Zeek was sitting outside of his house in Brooklyn, sitting on his porch outside of his old run down house, he noticed you running by, he thought of mugging you but brushed it off…he looked at you, he knew you were gonna get killed out here some how, either mugged or killed by a glamour junky with a knife, especially looking like that “Hey, what the hell you doing out here? Tryna’ get yourself killed?” He said with a thick Brooklyn accent