Meet The Founder of DLE

Tristan Marcus Drew Silva

My name is Tristan Marcus Drew Silva. I am a decade-long dream chaser and future architect. I don’t take no for an answer. I never have, never will. I break rules and light up every single room I go into. I encourage, invite, acknowledge, and inspire anyone and everyone that I can. It’s what wakes me up in the morning.

I was born and raised in Denver, Colorado by both my parents, and I have a sister just a little older than me. She is very smart, artistic, creative, and strong — just as hard-headed and firm as me, which is why she is my sister. I didn’t go to college; I didn’t want to. I made my own college.

I used to play Polly Pockets with my sister — that was just to spend time with her (and because I liked dressing and undressing them; I thought they were cute). But really, I’ve always loved cars with all my heart. I collected Hot Wheels, monster trucks, and NASCARs. I played racing games on my PlayStation and Xbox at every opportunity. I’d play late every single night in elementary and high school. I remember tucking a blanket under my door to hide the TV light, hooking up earphones to the TV, and making a fort with a blanket over the screen so my mom wouldn’t know I was up until 2 a.m. on school nights — running from the police in Need for Speed, building my dream cars, getting pre-exposure to my soon-to-be real reality.

As I got older, I went through some family things that caused confusion and hurt for everyone involved — but I didn’t let that stop me. I let it fuel me. I was determined to impress my family and myself as I continued to defy gravity, break rules, chase girls, and follow my dreams, letting nothing stand in my way.

My mom raised me from 8 to 18. Pops was around before then and helped instill strong values in me: be honest; the truth will set you free; never steal; trust in God. Those virtues were engraved — some would say beaten — into my head. It worked. Pops was as ambitious and passionate as me, but he was a real silverback gorilla. Biggest heart in the zoo, meanest temper in the jungle - that you could imagine. I looked up to him; I thought he was the coolest dad in the world — but the truth is I was scared of him.

I grew up with a really scary voice inside my head, and I never knew whose voice it was — but it was his voice, yelling. My mom yelled too. They argued and yelled at each other in my head and at me all growing up. My mom yelled at me more than my dad, but my dad’s voice was much scarier.

To silence those voices, I played outside. I rode bikes, skateboards, scooters, rollerblades — anything with wheels where I could catch speed, scars, and air. I used to fly like an eagle, jumping over recycle bins and trash cans. Sometimes I stuck the landing; other times the landing stuck me. I liked catching snakes, making friends, causing trouble, and taking what I felt I deserved.

I grew up an attention seeker and class clown. I was always trying to impress someone because I never truly felt fully acknowledged — something was missing. I got suspended more times than I can count. I slept in class, drew on my classwork, did minimal homework, and built relationships with the smart kids so when homework was due and test day came, I could copy their work (with permission) because I convinced them it was okay and told them I appreciated them and didn’t know what I’d do without them. I was always late, never on time.

I got expelled from Cherry Creek School District for selling weed as one of my hustles in high school. I wasn’t smoking it; I was selling it. Before that, when the first e-cigs came out, I used to have older people buy them for me at the gas station and I would flip them at school. I did smoke those because I thought it was cool, but I didn’t like how nicotine made me feel. One time my friend Mikey and I smoked an entire pack of cigarettes in 10 minutes — I threw up blood and got so dizzy I was rolling on the ground. From that day forward, I never touched cigarettes, e-cigs, or nicotine again.

Once, hanging under a bridge with Mikey (the friend my mom really didn’t like because we caused trouble), we saw spray paint on the bridge. I saw a can. I had to write something. So proudly I wrote “Tristan Silva.” Not the smartest thing to write, but I was proud to have my name somewhere — felt like a billboard and a trophy. I broke the law there for one of the first times in elementary or middle school, and I did it proudly — my name right there — so it wasn’t hard to pay the consequences because I didn’t care about consequences.

My mom didn’t think I’d make it through high school. I barely did — but I did. I didn’t walk with my class, but I graduated a few weeks later, thanks to all the answers being on Google. Thank gosh for Google or I wouldn’t have a high school diploma.

I got into music heavy in high school. Thinking back, I was artistic with drawing and poetry when I was young. I remember throwing a rock through a school bus window — not thinking, probably trying to impress someone. Another time, at 14 (a freshman), I committed another crime. I orchestrated and managed to steal money from my female bus driver. She kept her purse behind her seat. One day I brought some friends together for the ultimate undercover job. I sat in the front, directly behind her, and as she drove, I reached around and grabbed her purse. It was my lucky day — or so I thought. It was payday. There was $500 in there.

First time I ever had $500 of my own money from my own means. I paid my friends off, kept the majority, and flashed it to everyone. Some seniors robbed me at gunpoint. I tried to negotiate. That day, when they were following me after the bus, I knew something bad was going to happen. I also wasn’t thinking about the camera at the front of the aisle. Last thing on my mind. They say criminals aren’t the smartest — facts.

I was good for a couple days until I got called down to the principal’s office and greeted by police. They asked about an incident on the bus and then showed me the film. Red-handed. I walked out of school at 14 in handcuffs in front of everybody. For the first time ever, I felt really cool and acknowledged. They put me in the back of the cop car, took me to a detention center — my first exposure.

Growing up, I became a thief. I didn’t steal from people again after that, but I stole from stores like Walmart — Beats headphones, shopping carts full of food, flowers for girls, anything I could get my hands on. Most of the time I had (or could figure out) a way to pay, but I figured: why buy it when I can still have it and save the money? I was just trying to be resourceful.

Before I got fully expelled, I built a name as the best rapper in school — a high-school celebrity. Everyone smiled to my face but talked mess the second I walked away. I was cool with everyone and everyone acted cool with me — truly a one-sided street. I had all the girls I wanted in high school except maybe one — and I believe she’ll be the one I end up with.

I knew I wasn’t going to college — I already hated school. I’d make something work for myself. I was convinced I’d be a famous hip-hop artist and rapper. I built rap groups and managed ciphers during lunch and off hours.

Outside of school I worked early. I had jobs during high school — first at 14–15 at a smoothie shop. I got fired for sexual harassment because one time a girl came in with really big boobs and I couldn’t keep my eyes off them (smh lol).

I worked a lot of jobs from 14 to 18. I was determined to find a better way than college. I was either going into the Navy with my best friend Anthony Pollard, becoming a famous rapper, or becoming a firefighter. I was in a firefighter/EMT program from 14 to 16 — hands-on EMT, triage, fire truck ride-alongs, intense physical training, live burn days on the drill ground. We’d go into a building we lit on fire, with real gear, and put out real fires in a two-story burn building. We went through a 3’ x 3’ maze blindfolded with ropes and obstacles, limited oxygen in the SCBA (that beeps and gets louder unless you move, so others know if you go down). Eventually I moved on.

After high school I pursued music fully. I worked other jobs to remain independent. I left my mom’s house around 17 before I graduated because she didn’t believe I’d finish. She proved she didn’t believe in me, so I went into the big world alone to believe in myself.

I worked jobs from Wells Fargo to P.F. Chang’s, Chick-fil-A, Jamba Juice, The Cookie Company, Westerra Credit Union, Red Lobster, Old Chicago — a couple others — only to make money to support my music. I started hanging with older people who smoked and drank, going to parties, getting drunk, smoking weed, having sex, making music. Lost my virginity at 17.

I quit Wells Fargo on June 3, 2016 so I could leave the workforce once and for all to follow my music 100%. This was after years of building a name, a reputation in my city, playing sold-out shows across my hometown — Gothic Theatre, Summit Music Hall, Ogden Theatre, and more. Very few venues I didn’t perform at. I ran into music mentors who helped cultivate my career, and I became known as the number-one hustler and young artist in Denver among the old heads and OGs of the scene. I sold hundreds of tickets, managed teams, helped handcraft early frameworks for the Denver hip-hop scene. I learned marketing, branding, and business through music.

Eventually, I got sick of being used by people for my accomplishments. I shared the stage and every opportunity with everyone — they were just using me. So I said, “F*** this.” I had no one else to turn to. I turned to God. I was truly alone. I didn’t really know who I was talking to, but it felt right and was my last resort. I spoke into the air: “GOD, please show me a better way with this music and with life and finances, and I promise I’ll pull up and away from the people drinking, smoking weed, using me, and being a bad influence.” Shortly after, my prayers were answered. I pulled away and was introduced to a mentor.

I used some of the last money I had from one of my last jobs to buy my first flip car. I took $1,300 to my name and sold the car for $1,800–$1,900 in a couple days. That moment became a pinnacle: it was possible to make $500–$600 with minimal work, investing and buying cars. I told myself I’d do that for the rest of my life alongside music and my desire to be a boss.

This mentor, Noel Alba, was in my life about six months and showed me everything I needed — what a real man of God looks like and what a true, successful traditional business looks like. His company was Greenwood Building Maintenance. I substituted there as one of his main employees when Alfredo went back to Mexico during winter 2016. I was exposed to internal and external operations, a CEO’s finances, and the truth behind American business and ownership.

Growing up, I was approached by multiple multi-level marketing companies and pyramid schemes. They saw I was misguided and misinformed — easy prey — to sell products based on hopes and dreams and minimal compensation. Luckily, I never fell in. But I recognized something special about those classrooms. Why was everyone there? Why so much energy? Why were some claiming success? Why were all these people convinced they could become millionaires selling stupid products — coffee, skincare — with predatory comp plans?

I’ll never forget sitting in that classroom and promising myself I would never be part of one — instead I would create my own. I’d own a multi-level strategy not to sell stupid coffee or knives or travel time — but to change the world, helping people create real financial independence. Early on I forgot that promise, but later I opened my first company shortly after Noel taught me business taxes, loopholes, write-offs, expenses, entities, and advanced financial literacy — how the world works and is manipulated for business owners.

I started doing work under my freshly opened business, Diamond Limited Enterprises, registered the night of October 2 at 9:10 p.m. at the kitchen table with Noel. I didn’t know exactly what type of business it would be, but I knew I’d own that company and others — my main company to endorse my music and manage everything I’d do in business for the rest of my life.

I did side work — any work I could — to take paychecks to my own company. I wanted to sign my artist signature on the back of paychecks to my company — and it wasn’t long before I was doing exactly that.

One hot summer day I messaged a couple people: did they want a nice hand wax on their car? By this time I’d flipped and sold a number of cars and made tens of thousands on my own. The idea seemed hot, so I kept reinvesting — flyers, banners, business cards, a website. I grew this company out of a JanSport backpack: some Meguiar’s hand wax, tire shine, glass cleaner, a couple microfiber towels, scrub brushes, and a mini shop-vac.

Between flipping cars and this first company I generated my first six figures independently. I was blown away that I could create money through business and get paid five times more than anyone my age. Meanwhile, everyone I went to high school with was in college — in debt — still with no idea what to do, still letting others make decisions, still abiding by rules, still being fake to everyone and themselves.

I got to know myself, my abilities, and my skill set — and leaned in 1,000,000%. I became a master at sales, marketing, branding, business development — anything to make more money and live a better life. I dated the first love of my life for a couple years while I grew that company massively — the number-one most affordable, convenient, and efficient mobile auto, boat, and aircraft detailing company in the Denver Metro area, by the youngest CEO.

I did business under Diamond Limited Enterprises as In The Details — my first official company — giving me experience with real adults, customers, money, paychecks, banks, and business accounts. I became obsessed with business, hard work, and research. I built my own studio with that money. I was signing my music autograph on business checks every day, cashing them, reinvesting into my business, myself, my studio, and my music career.

I leaned in hard on that company and my music, traveling to and from Los Angeles by myself, driving cars I was buying and selling with nearly 200,000+ miles — riding on faith and a dream. I built accolades and became the star I wanted to be. I opened for tens of thousands, built relationships with industry leaders in Denver’s hip-hop scene, and opened for top Billboard artists like Tory Lanez, A$AP Ferg, Kirko Bangz, Lil Durk, and more. I headlined my own shows. My photographer also shot for Post Malone, 50 Cent, Justin Bieber, and more. I built a full digital EPK with music, photos, coverage.

But eventually, it wasn’t enough. I needed to lean even harder into business if I wanted something massive with my music globally. I moved music to the back burner and doubled down on buying and selling cars, producing business in person and online — digital marketing, design and development, advertising, e-commerce, dropshipping — studying the world’s most advanced business models. I implemented those into my detailing company until I hit a wall. I wanted bigger and better than detailing.

I had the top 1%–5% of income earners in the wealthiest neighborhoods on lock with detailing — but it wasn’t enough. I wanted more. I wanted to share my story, inspire others, create a book and playbook to teach people from my high school how to do what I did — how to follow your dreams and not take no for an answer.

On December 31, 2018, after two very successful years of running In The Details — with experience in hiring, compensation, being a CEO, mastering sales and customer service — I decided to do something big. I weighed options for 6–12 months: sell it, franchise it, discontinue it, destroy it, or pause it and return later. I told myself that starting January 1, 2019 I would start consulting and sharing my story — and I would not accept one more dollar detailing. Even if I had the opportunity to do my first aircraft or make $20,000 in a day — I wouldn’t accept it. I’d build a new business sharing my story and changing lives in the same time it would take to find a buyer or prep the company for sale. I did exactly that.

Instantly, I started promoting — posting on Instagram, telling people: if you want to learn how to make money, start a business, escape the 9-to-5, follow your dreams, and be successful — follow me and reach out; I’ll share my story with you.

I didn’t just break up with In The Details — I also left the love of my life because I knew I couldn’t give her what she wanted. I couldn’t progress the relationship anymore. I was so invested in my businesses and cars that she could only view me as broke and cheap, when I was the opposite — flat broke, invested, and 100% independent. While building In The Details, I helped her build a personal-training company so she could turn her passion into a business and not work for someone else at 24 Hour Fitness. I told her, “No — you’re not going to work for $20/hr when you can work for yourself and make $100/hr.” I named her company, coached her to her first clients, and helped her become financially independent. But her parents (who claimed to be super Christian) always pointed fingers and said terrible things about me — and did worse things I won’t mention. I’m not perfect either, but the values and principles instilled in me kept me aligned with who I really was, what I wanted, and who I’d become at all costs.

Shortly after, business picked up. I was consulting while still pursuing music — but no longer on stage. I took the following I’d built on social since 2014, deleted all my music and photos, and turned my Instagram into the Diamond Limited Enterprises Instagram — to keep inspiring the people who’d been watching and keep the foundation I’d built. I deleted everything associated with In The Details — the Facebook page, hundreds of posts, ledgers, and more.

Diamond Limited Enterprises finally became the company it was destined to be — and I finally had the product that would change millions of lives. I wrote a book about my experience, but after thousands of words I decided it wasn’t good enough — a waste of time — and I’d have to create something shorter, faster, more actionable, and more powerful. I was writing a book called The Answer. By this time it was about COVID. I turned the book into a playbook with zero fluff — 100% actionable, step-by-step on how to start, build, and grow any company based on passion with no money, no friends, no education, no financial or family support — less than a dollar and a dream.

Shortly after I finished, having worked on it ~6 months while consulting and selling, I taught the roadmap based on my experience as I documented, created the curriculum, and illustrated the path people would follow to replicate my results. I coached lots of people I went to school with — anyone who wanted to make money doing what they love.

After leaning in on digital marketing and business development, I started developing packages to sell to people making way more money than me with bigger companies — to integrate the same digital and growth frameworks into their businesses. Anything I did, I saw success — slowly, with hard work. I reinvested every dollar. I slept in cars. I was homeless. I traveled. I did everything I could to eat when I could, sleep when I could, and make money how I could — only in business development/coaching and investing in cars. I sold hundreds of cars and eventually got into motorcycles.

On May 20, 2020 — on my seventh motorcycle after jumping into bikes (after countless cars) — I had a motorcycle crash that almost took my life. I woke up in the hospital with a broken neck, fractured pelvis, dislocated hip, punctured lungs, a hematoma. My brain was bleeding and damaged. I couldn’t remember the accident. The bike was obliterated into a thousand pieces. I was lucky to survive. God spared my life — and rearranged my brain cells — and ever since that day I turned into a business-development genius and autistic artist for making money, inspiring people, and living every day like it’s my last.

I healed my body with my mind and soon I was back on my feet, riding motorcycles again before I could fully walk. I’d stash my crutches in a bush, jump on the bike, and go ride — making sure every stop I put all my weight on my good leg so I wouldn’t fall and crush the other. I stayed with my mom a bit before, during, and after the crash — but again, I had to get out on my own.

I tripled down on motorcycles because they were way faster, and I could make three times as much as flipping cars. I was now making money riding wheelies and driving 150 mph everywhere, riding 10 hours a day, building relationships and finding riders who wanted to follow my leadership around the city. That was the birth of Team Backpack Denver — the most mobile lifestyle and an extreme street team for sport bikes: community, leadership, pure speed and adrenaline.

I dominated another industry and took over the entire Denver Bike Life!! scene — which needed leadership more than anything I’d been part of. I brought leadership, encouragement, acknowledgment, faith, teamwork. Before long, Team Backpack was the most infamous underground motorcycle street team and secret society in Denver, with the highest levels of teamwork, leadership, and safety. I partnered with Douglas County Firearms and Fay Myers Motorcycle Dealership — the number-one dealership in Colorado. I led rides with hundreds of bikes around the city and threw big ride-outs and takeovers monthly/quarterly. I did rides for Motorcycle Awareness Day, Christmas, Halloween, 9/11, and my birthday.

I caught a lot of hate from people who wanted to see me fail — like everybody else in my life — but I had something to prove. I changed a lot of lives, sold a lot of motorcycles, made a lot of money. After a couple years, I got sick of the people, the ceiling, and the lack of impact. After crashing a lot of bikes, injuries, surgeries, a broken collarbone — I’d had enough impact in the motorcycle scene.

During this time I met a girl and let her be by my side a couple years while I ran the bike scene. I spent money and time on her, made her part of everything. When we met, I told her we could team up and try to knock things out together. Life is hard; together we could see where it goes — but I told her I was focused on my businesses and didn’t want a relationship. She nodded yes and told me everything I wanted to hear. She said she was into business — lies to get my attention. She gave me the attention I needed but secretly was mad I wouldn’t fully commit to her over my dreams and other women. She smiled to my face but bashed my name, told lies, and tore my reputation apart to sabotage me.

I’d seen this before. I stuck around for a while because something was attached and it was nearly impossible to get away. It got bad — she began abusing me. She manipulated me, spread lies, yelled, threw things, hit me, threw rocks, showed up at my house banging on the door, threatened me. I was stuck. I was scared. This forced me to lean on God again — even more. After fighting those demons and dying for an escape, I finally ripped myself away after some of the scariest nights of my life. I never hit her or pushed her — nothing to physically hurt her — because I’d seen my dad act out a few times and promised I’d never be like that.

I decided to stop flipping motorcycles and cars and start another organization, brand, and legitimate business managed by Diamond Limited Enterprises. Through this girl I met someone significant — now my business partner — Braxton Byrd. He was a mutual friend — Molly’s best friend’s boyfriend. He saw me around with this girl and didn’t know what to think. He definitely didn’t like me — but he raised an eyebrow, curious how I was showing up on so many new motorcycles, always happy, positive, encouraging. I sold him a motorcycle.

This was when I was running Denver Bike Life!! I invited him to tag along, represent me, pull up with me. He trusted me and wanted to know more. He didn’t know if I was stealing motorcycles, stealing credit cards, robbing people — or what — but he wanted to know how I had a storage unit full of 10 motorcycles and a sock with $5,000–$20,000 cash at all times.

Since that first flip car, I’d sold hundreds of vehicles and managed hundreds of thousands of dollars independently. Built relationships, networks, connections. Perfected my skill sets. Became a mathematician with time, money, business, and relationships. My life had been leading to this.

I asked Braxton if he wanted to road-trip to Arizona with me to sell a conversion van I’d built for $12,500 — to follow me in it while I drove my BMW — from Colorado to Arizona on only a $500 deposit and a verbal commitment. He thought I was crazy. I knew it would sell — a referral from another client I’d sold a motorcycle to. I wasn’t taking the crazy girl, and I almost took my dad, but something told me to ask Braxton, my new riding buddy. He was transitioning jobs (had worked at multiple repair shops, specialized in Subarus, flipped some vehicles). He’d recently hit his own pinnacle — anything was better than a 9-to-5. He was done being a slave. He joined me.

We sold the van to Kristin within an hour of arriving. I had nearly $20,000 cash in a BMW worth $10–$15k, plus a storage unit full of motorcycles back home — a vehicle portfolio built from $1,350, surviving nearly 10 years, still with ~$50,000 in vehicles after everything I’d spent to live. I told him we’d find another BMW or car and drive it back — not going home empty-handed. We went to eat, and the bartender — Carlee from ASU — had a cute little BMW with no bumper parked outside for sale. We looked at it, checked the damage, and I bought it for $1,400 after negotiating.

That same day my other BMW started running really bad. I knew we weren’t making it back. Braxton didn’t know BMWs, neither did I — I only knew motorcycles, and this wasn’t a Fireblade. We were desperate to find a shop. Braxton was keen to drive it a thousand miles home, but I knew we’d damage the car and the investment. I kept calm not to panic him — he’d trusted me with his life, traveling with someone he barely knew. I slowly broke the news: “Bro, we can’t drive it back like this. We’ve got one option — find a shop.”

We researched and concluded it was a fuel injector. We called shops and found TRG — Turning Ratchets Garage — owned by a younger dude, ~35, named Nick. We limped the car to his shop. He promised it would be ready the same day or the next. When we pulled in, we realized this was no regular shop. Utopia. A Need for Speed / Fast & Furious battleground — warehouse, big lot, acres of cars, sports cars from BMW to Infiniti, junk boxes to fully built. A true performance and repair shop.

We got an inside look at the operation and both got invigorated. We initiated a relationship. He tossed us keys to an old black Honda Accord with no A/C in 100° Arizona heat. Day by day we waited — but there were excuses and variables. We stayed 3–5 days longer than planned and spent more money. In the meantime we did work on the other BMW — bought a new bumper and hood and rebuilt the whole front suspension. Finally, after about a week and a good amount spent — eating good, enjoying Arizona — both BMWs were done.

A few days before that, we’d been upgraded from the Accord to a black Nissan Armada. One day, driving the Honda, we looked at each other: “We’re really out here doing this — making it work — just like Two Goats.” Before that, we’d been talking about how inspired we were by the shop and how we had to have something like that of our own. That’s when the idea — and the birth — of TGG: Two Goats Garage — was born.

We came back to Denver, made it safe, and instantly began building the brand. I was determined to build a legitimate business — no more under-the-table cars — another entity managed by Diamond Limited Enterprises. Braxton was the perfect partner with mechanical experience I didn’t have. I knew motorcycles more, but he knew shop mechanics and industry ops better than me. I had private business, marketing, and development experience; he had mechanic and shop experience — how shops run, how they take care of their guys (and how they don’t).

We sat down and formulated the business: I’ll teach you business if you teach me mechanics. We leaned on each other and built the company from zero to nearly half a million in under the first two years.

We found common values. As we clarified roles, responsibilities, ownerships, and royalties, there was a void — something missing and unspoken. One night we were cruising together in our matching BMWs (I’d convinced Braxton to sell the Subaru he loved to buy a BMW like mine — I’d built mine from 300 hp to ~450 hp in months; he drove it and fell in love with the ultimate driving experience — this was only my third BMW). We felt a strong calling to drive up to Lookout Mountain in Golden, Colorado to look over the city and discuss how we could do anything we wanted — make as much money as we wanted — have all the power in the world. That very night we found our similar belief in Jesus Christ and prayed over our partnership. From that night on, we were a unity — and Two Goats Garage coincided to become Denver, Colorado’s number-one auto repair, roadside assistance, and performance upgrade/modification company for BMWs and other vehicles — including motorcycles.

I developed the business frameworks — digital marketing and branding — implementing everything I knew to help it grow fast, and Braxton led jobs and repairs to get us paid. I told myself I wanted to build an entire business around my BMW and keep it as one of the only vehicles I ever kept — to build it and work on as much as possible to learn the entire inside/out of that car as a BMW robot/prototype — to learn the mechanic skill set. I became more skilled in mechanics as Braxton became more experienced in business and BMWs. Together we built from the ground up with less than a dollar and a dream — no outside forces or influences.

We went through the 8-Phase Business Development Course & Playbook and followed it step-by-step to architect and design the company. Within our first month of going legitimate with the state — after a few months of proofing the concept, testing, marketing, and advertising — we generated $15–$20k in the first month we opened our card processor and filed paperwork with the State of Colorado. We checked regulations to make sure we could operate 100% legally within Denver auto-repair guidelines — when confirmed, we went all-in.

We became close business partners and friends, working on hundreds of vehicles together, sharpening each other’s minds and blades — iron sharpening iron. We had so much in common — faith, values, love for speed, cars, motorcycles. More importantly, I found out Braxton was also an amazing music artist and producer — and the only thing that goes better than ham & cheese or PB&J is a rapper and a producer. Perfect. Time for Braxton to experience building a business to fund and endorse his music career through other passions like cars and speed.

We formed a diamond code of ethics never to be broken about money generated under our automotive umbrella. I promised I’d never accept a dollar without him knowing and it going back into our automotive business — and that I’d put everything I had into the company: time, resources, energy, effort, knowledge, experience. He promised the same.

We developed documents, created the infamous 100-Point Ultimate GOAT Inspection & Diagnostic service, and hit the streets the same way I promoted music — flyers, walking up to people, telling them about our idea. Next thing you know, we began booking jobs and making $20–$30k/month. We implemented powerful marketing and advertising and began building a powerhouse with only our four hands and two BMWs. (Actually three — we transported the other one back from Arizona — but one snowy night drifting, I crashed it into a highway barrier. I didn’t hit other cars or damage property besides the barrier scuff, but it totaled the car. Beyond repair — I sold it for $700 to a local BMW specialist named Bes.)

To this day we still own and operate Two Goats Garage — Denver — inspired and code-developed by Diamond Limited Enterprises and organized under another parent company we created to manage that brand and others we’d build together — like Diamond — named TGP International Resource and Asset Management LTD. TGP stands for Two Goats Prodigies — a company and brands for the prodigies and youth of the world, including (but not limited to) our future kids.

To this day, Two Goats Garage is dominating auto repair, roadside assistance, and performance mods with over 200 reviews, a 4.9-star rating, and almost half a million dollars in auto repairs and community impact completed.

Another organization built in the midst of Two Goats Garage was Mission OSN — Operation Silent Night. On Christmas Eve 2023, I wanted to spend Christmas differently. I’d been through so much and had a heavy heart, so I wanted to spend Christmas Eve with the homeless out there who had nothing. I went to the grocery store and bought ~$200 in groceries with my last money — to feed as many people as possible — and spent the cold night with them till midnight into Christmas Day, serving sandwiches on the back of my BMW trunk. I bought all the good food and snacks — Pop-Tarts, fruit snacks, Capri Suns, and more. We ate like champions. I feasted with and fed the homeless, read scripture, prayed, and hung out. I parked my BMW right on the sidewalk. I was protected. No one bothered me. Police never came. It was powerful.

I recruited a couple people and did it again Christmas night, then for nine consecutive Sundays at 7 p.m., feeding different homeless camps around Denver. This was the birth of the first nonprofit — soon to come back — born in Denver, sponsored by Diamond Limited Enterprises, TGP International, and Two Goats Garage. We proved the idea and tested it. Braxton became a part of it. After deciding it was legitimate and massive, we put it on the back burner to continue building Diamond and Two Goats — but starting December 23, 2025, Mission Operation Silent Night — the number-one nonprofit to feed the homeless and actually connect with them (not cook for them, but prepare meals with them; not feed them, but eat with them; not serve them, but hang out with them; not teach them, but learn with them; not help them be warm, but go out and freeze with them) — will return.

Two Goats Garage was legitimately started and registered with the State of Colorado on January 10, 2024. We have nearly 10 company cars (seven BMWs), about 10 other vehicles already cooperatively sold together, and a growing fleet — with the intention of making Two Goats Garage the number-one, most advanced, technology-based automotive repair shop, roadside assistance, and performance upgrade/mod company in the world — not the biggest, but the best. Two Goats Garage is what you get when you mix Need for Speed with Fast & Furious and combine that with a dealership and two young gearheads who love speed more than anything in the world.

Both my music career and Braxton’s music-production career will be debuting very soon as two unreleased artists with a massive story and a huge mission to change the world in every way and industry we can — cars, music, motorcycles, business, finance, education, wheelies, drifting, racing, crashing, praying, serving the homeless — anything that gets the BPM of our blood pumping just a little faster.

Welcome to my life

Sponsored by DiamondDenverCo and Diamond Limited Enterprises. Proud partners and innovators of In The Details, Team Backpack Denver, Denver Best Bikes and Cars, Two Goats Garage Denver, MANA and TGP International Resource and Asset Management LTD.