Born 2 Da Street 394b3

Born 2 Da Street

Jacob Nteh

Copyright © 2011 by Jacob Nteh.

Library of Congress Control Number: 2011911083 ISBN: Hardcover 978-1-4628-9924-1 ISBN: Softcover 978-1-4628-9923-4 ISBN: Ebook 978-1-4628-9925-8

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

This book was printed in the United States of America.

To order additional copies of this book, : Xlibris Corporation 1-888-795-4274 www.Xlibris.com [email protected]

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CONTENTS

Prologue

The Start of the End—Atlanta Freaknik 1996

Chapters

1 Nine Years Later

2 The Move to Atlanta

3 The Jack Move

4 Fresh on the Block

5 Murda the Snitch

6 Good Friday

7 One Shot, One kill

8 Up in da Club

9 Pain is Love

10 Back 2 Da Game

11 Backseat of My Jeep

12 The Shoot-out

13 Up in 2 Da t

14 The Beatdown

15 Down with Knowledge

16 Roll with Me

17 The Gwap Move

18 Balling Outta Control

19 The Roll 2 Da Bank

20 Price to Pay

21 Hit ’Em Up

22 Things Fall Apart

Dedication

This book is dedicated to the woman that I love. The woman that gave birth to me. Words would never express the love that I have for you. RIP Philomena Nteh. First and foremost, I would love to give thanks and praises to the Most High God, who has truly blessed me through this life journey. Life is hard, but I am harder than life. Therese Nteh, thank you for being the best woman in my life. Theodora, Edith, Ejike, Buchi, and Cynthia, I love y’all. Emmanul Nteh, Ebube, Uche, Isioma, and Nkem. Thank y’all for being my cousins. Faj, Dozie, DJ Magesty, Femi, Auntie Victoria, Nkechi, Mouss Ciss, Richard, Benjamin Dixie, Joey, Augustine Nteh, Ryan Bontia, James Calonia, Monique Gomez, carlou lso and the whole staff of Xlibris publishing company. Bruce, Sunny, Uyi, Shako, Hope and Anna, Kunle, Malik, Liz-da-queen, and Uchi, I love y’all. Once again, thank you, guys, for ing me mentally to finish up my book. Blessing and Henry, thank you. Thank you, Emeka, Ugochi, Francis, Junior Nteh, Cyril Nwamjoko, Anizor, and Frazier Boy. Keep your head, bruh, and fight your case, Dwayne Wood, time to serve, nigga. Come home, homey. RIP Mama Comfort, I love you. To those I didn’t , I got y’all next time.

PROLOGUE

The Start of the End—Atlanta Freaknik 1996

As the sun set high, intersecting with the cool breeze, the streets in Atlanta was occupied with fancy cars and people that came out for the 1996 Freaknik. Majority of the people that came out for the Freaknik brought their own swagger —black African American culture was the name the white folks would name it. As hip-hop music blared from every corners of the street, beautiful ladies of different shapes were showing off their different sizes of titties, pussies, and asses to the guys, especially those with camcorders and cameras At 9:45 p.m., when the Freaknik had slowly began to die, Blaze, Murda and Blaze’s cousin, Yayo, were still up in the Buckhead area, strutting to get every glimpse of the dying Freaknik night. They wished the Freaknik had just started. Although in their mind, they knew that this is it—the fun had ended. “So, bruh, what the fuck that bitch talking ’bout?” Blaze asked Murda as they walked down the street. “What bitch are you talking ’bout?” Murda shot back with a raised brow as he popped his collar like a pimp “Yo Shawty with the banging miniskirt you chased your black ass after,” Blaze remarked. “Ooh shit, Shawty had slipped out of my mind. I know who you’re talking ’bout. Her name is Erica. Bruh, Shawty ain’t talking ’bout shit. Yo, she said she got four kids,” Murda said in a blunt manner. “Bruh, Shawty look aight. You know what I’m talking about,” Yayo commented. “Yeah, I dig that. But she got four kids. How a nigga like me gonna feed them if I’m the motherfucker that she would be fucking?” Murda said scornfully.

“Yo, you know Shawty got phat ass like Trina, and that pussy gotta be good and fresh as raw meat. Bruh, if Shawty is down to fuck a street pimp like you, you gotta make sure that her mouth job is good as the pussy. Man, that pussy gotta be hot and steamy. You know what I’m talking about,” Blaze said as they crossed the four-way intersection. “Yo fuck that bitch. Shawty probably ain’t got no job. Broke ass bitch looking for a man to tie down,” Yayo exclaimed with a vexation. “Bruh, you can never underestimate these bitches. If Shawty ain’t got no job, at least she got pussy and a mouth for a blow job. You feel me? Bruh, I’m going to school her if she’s down with me. Instead of her fucking demonstration niggas for free, she gonna start charging ’cuz pussy and dick ain’t nothing but a meat on the bone—fucking and sucking or leave it alone,” Murda said with a little pimpinology to Yayo. “Damn, bruh, you’ve been studying your lesson, huh. Where you get that phrase from—school of hard pimping?” Yayo said jokingly and then burst out laughing. “Fuck you, nigga,” Murda said with a tiny laugh. “Shiit, that bitch Erica might have some tight-ass pussy while you playing,” Blaze said with raised brows. “Yo, what ’bout if she ain’t got it like you said, Blaze?” Yayo voiced up. “Lemme tell y’all somethang. Shawty got four kids. So that means that her pussy gotta be steamy hot. You know what I’m talking about. Plus she might know how to use her pussy muscle to grip a nigga dick and make him cum and rise back like hot dough,” Murda regaled with an awful laugh as he pulled his fitted cap down to his brows. “Yo, you’re a funny-ass nigga,” Yayo said as he dug his hand into his jeans pocket to retrieve a pack of Newport. As soon as Yayo had lit up the cigarette he had placed in his mouth, the siren of the police cars blaring across the street interrupted what he was about to say. “Damn dawg, somebody probably got shot. You know how it goes. Black-on-black crime,” Yayo said in an angry voice, as the thought of being caught by the police made his heart beat heavily. “I hate these motherfuckers. It’s like a brother can’t have fun without the cops,” he added. Yayo knew that one more time of possession of a concealed weapon

would send him to prison. He was already a convicted felon with three years’ outstanding probation left on paper, so instead of holding on to the 9 mm Ruger, he ed it to Blaze with a terrified mind. “Damn, dawg, you’re acting like you’re scared. What it is, the police or the gun that got you paranoid?” Blaze questioned Yayo as he tucked the 9 mm Ruger in his waistline. “Yo, what the fuck you mean, dawg? I ain’t scared of nothing,” Yayo responded as he gazed at Blaze. “Yo, I was just checking ’cuz you kinda looked scared. You feel me, Blaze, shot back at Yayo?” “Naw, I don’t feel you. ’Cuz when I let that motherfucker pop out, I don’t show no mercy. It’s the motherfuckers that would get fry with it are the ones that would be scared. You smell me?” Yayo said with a brag. “Man, I don’t smell you. I smell only clean pussy when I’m eating dem thang. You know what I’m talking about,” Blaze responded at once. “Aight then, fuck you, nigga,” Yayo said with a smile as Murda and Blaze took off laughing. “Yo. Fuck y’all, niggas,” Yayo ed in and then started laughing. “Aight, motherfucker. It’s okay to say fuck me. But lemme tell you somethang, motherfucker, tomorrow is your birthday, and if you say fuck me again, I’m not be there to wish your ass happy birthday. So I’m do it right now,” Murda said smoothly like an edge of a sword and then began to sing. “Happy birthday to you. How scared are you now?” After Murda had sang in a ditty manner, immediately they started laughing. Meanwhile, in Yayo’s mind, he damn nearly cursed himself that he had almost forgotten that tomorrow was his twenty-second birthday. Man, I need to slow down smoking damn weed. That shit be making a motherfucker forgot shit, Yayo said in his mind as he pulled out the blunt of weed that he had rolled up. And then he sparked it up.

At 11:55 p.m., Blaze glanced at his watch as the blunt of weed started to mellow him down. While at the same time, his stomach was itching for some food. “Man, this shit is over,” Blaze said, referring to the Freaknik. “Bruh, shit ain’t over yet. This is Buckhead. Dem club’s got every one of these bitches that came out for the Freaknik wild right now,” Murda said. “Yo, I say we step to one of those club. What y’all say about that?” Murda added. “Yo, I’m down for whatever,” Yayo pushed as he glanced at his watch. “It’s 12:01. The night is still young,” Yayo added. At that moment Blaze looked straight forward ahead of him as soon as he noticed the Thai restaurant at the corner of the Buckhead train station. He knew what he wanted—food. As the manager of the Thai restaurant was about to shut the entrance door of the restaurant and flip the sign that says We’re Close, Blaze ran toward her and said, “Excuse me, ma’ . . . excuse me—” Before Blaze could speak further, she interrupted him and said, “I’m sorry, we’re closed.” At that moment, Blaze was standing in front of her. He knew he could convince her to let him and his homeboys into the restaurant. “Ma’, could you please listen to me. I’m sorry, I know you guys are closed,” Blaze said and then continued, “Me and my friends are from out of town. We came down here for the Freaknik, and we are hungry as hell that we could not wait to get to our hotel. So could you please attend to us to quench our bubbling stomach?” Blaze added in a good-boy manner. “Okay, y’all. I would be nice to y’all. I know how y’all feel,” the Thai restaurant manager said. Her name is Mrs. L. Greene. Blaze quickly glanced at her name tag and said, “Thank you, Mrs. Greene, this is really hot-lanta. The home of hospitality.” Mrs. Green smiled at Blaze’s comment as she let Blaze, Yayo, and Murda into the restaurant. The look on the white couples that were allowed to finish up their meals expressed that they were afraid as Blaze, Yayo, and Murda walked in into the

restaurant. Quickly the white lady said to her husband, “Honey, are you done eating?” Her husband played it along sensing that his wife was afraid as him. “Why, honey, I think we should get out of here.” Quickly they headed to the door. Knowing why the white couples had left the restaurant in a hurry, Blaze said in his mind, Scary-ass motherfucker betta leave before I rob the fuck outta y’all punk asses. Two minutes later, as Yayo and Murda sat down to look at the restaurant menu, Blaze walked to the restaurant restroom to refurbish himself. The highness of the blunt of weed they had just smoked was getting the best of him. Rushing into the restaurant restroom, Blaze stopped at once when he saw a female employee that works at the Thai restaurant butt naked in front of her fiveyear-old baby boy. Stacy Pilgrim has been working at the Thai restaurant for a year and a half. Being a partygirl, she was getting ready to hit one of the banging clubs in A-Town called “Club 112” after she had dropped off her five-year-old son to his nanny. For some reason, Stacy Pilgrim knows she wouldn’t want to miss the last day of Freaknik night without checking out Club 112. Standing in front of her was a tall light-skinned brother with a look that expressed he’s up to something no good. With a terrified mind, Stacy Pilgrim began to wonder how the hell he had managed to get in into the restaurant by this time of the night when the restaurant was supposed to be closed. Without wasting a second of her time, she began to dress up to cover her naked body as daze of confusion ran through her head. Meanwhile, Blaze was stunned at her flawless body. With a good eye rotation, Blaze glanced at her gorgeous breast down to her well-trimmed vagina area. Snapped out to reality, he motioned toward Stacy Pilgrim and said, “Yo, ma’, you look beautiful. What is your name?” Stumbling with words, Stacy Pilgrim replied, “I’m P., and how did you get in here?” Blaze smiled awful and then grabbed onto Stacy Pilgrim’s arm with a firm grip. He pushed her against the wall and said, “Bitch, you know what it is—give up the pussy.” Before Stacy Pilgrim knows what was happening to her, Blaze entered inside her like a man from West Coast Production porn flick star, Mr. Marcus.

As Yayo and Murda had begun to gorge their meal halfway, Blaze was nowhere to be found. That thought had Yayo feeling uncomfortable. So he decided to check on Blaze. “Bruh, I will be back. Gotta go check what the fuck is taking Blaze that long in the restroom,” Yayo said as he gazed at Murda. “Aight, bruh, do that,” Murda replied. The sensational pleasure Blaze was receiving as he stroked and stroked the entire vagina of Stacy Pilgrim’s pussy had him feeling a prowess as Stacy Pilgrim tried to retrieve herself from the intertwine. Dashing into the restaurant restroom, Yayo paused unexpectedly. He was stunned at his feet as he saw his cousin Blaze pounding the shit out of an unknown female while a five-year-old boy stared with tears. Immediately, Yayo lifted up his Camcorder and then started recording a hobby he found interesting —sex tape. As Blaze kept pounding Stacy Pilgrim, Yayo was jubilant as he kept his Concorder on the most interesting action. Even though he felt that something was wrong as Stacy Pilgrim cried for help, he turned on a deaf ear to her cry and said, “Good job, bruh! Get that pussy, Blaze.” When Blaze had finally bust a nod, he jerked backward in an attempt to pull his body away from Stacy Pilgrim. At that moment, Stacy Pilgrim pulled her body together and then picked up the 9 mm Ruger Blaze had tossed down to the floor. Without hesitation, she pulled the trigger, sending hot slugs into Blaze’s left upper arm. Blaze staggered twice and then struck a smashing blow at Stacy Pilgrim’s left eye. At the moment the 9 mm Ruger fell to the floor, Blaze charged with two steps forward after his gun. He picked it up and then sent four straight shots into Stacy Pilgrim’s chest.

* * *

Twenty-Four Hours Later

“Good evening. My name is Amanda Shaver port.” “And I’m Davis Coleman.” “Two employees of a Thai restaurant were found dead yesterday at the Thai restaurant located at Buckhead. Police believed that the victims were robbed and shot to death. No arrest had been made yet. The family of the victims and the employer had identified the victims as Stacy Pilgrim and Mrs. Love Greene. This is Fox 5 News headline at six.”

CHAPTER ONE

Nine Years Later

My name is Jacob Wright a.k.a. Sorrow. I was five years old when my mother was raped and shot to death during the Atlanta Freaknik ’96. After the death of my mother, I moved to Brooklyn, New York, with my auntie from my father’s side. Don’t ask me why I didn’t live with my father when my mother died ’cuz my father was killed before I was brought into life by birth, na’mean. Auntie Monique was her name. The person I was living with, the person that had taken me in as her son. She was a dedicated Christian, sincere and lovable. The only man in her life that she believed that desired her was her deceased husband. Since her husband died, Auntie Monique promised that she would never remarry because she has promised her husband that there’s no man that would take his place before he died, na’mean. As a little boy, I was growing up very fast, learning the things a fourteen-yearold boy such as myself shouldn’t have known. Everything around my way was a product of my environment—drugs, guns, anything you could think of, na’mean. At the age of ten years old, I was running the street with my partner G. Baby. We had all kinds of guns and the regular drug—weed. But the most hustle we did was stealing cars and then selling them to the chop shop around my way. We were getting around $200 to $300 for each car, depending on the model and the year. Na’mean? For a ten-year-old ma’fucker that was a nice piece of change, na’mean. When Auntie Monique began to notice I was running the street, influenced with a negative vibes, she would get down on her knees to pray for me. Sometimes I could hear her crying to God to change the ways I was living. But that shit couldn’t stop a young nigga I was, na’mean. One Friday evening, as I was in my little room, I was caught up in the mix of two minds. One side of my mind kept telling me to fuck the world and do whatever I like, and the other part kept repeating, “You don’t need the street life,” na’mean.

I was weak as I longed for which side to choose. Knowing that Auntie Monique was already getting tired of my nonchalant way, that alone even made it worst as hell. So I knew I got to choose sides immediately because one thing was for sure. If I keep running the street, that means I would be going to Atlanta to stay with my uncle. And that was the last place I want to be. That thought had my stomach bubbling as I heard the sound of Biggie Smalls blaring outside of my apartment, na’mean. I stood up at once and then peeped through the window to see who the ma’fucker blasting my nigga B song in his ride. As soon as I saw who he was, I yelled out “Brakk . . . brakk-tata-tata” to my partner, G. Baby. At once he recited back the phrase as my facial expression formed an upward curving of the mouth as I noticed G. Baby in a new Lexus Coupé. “Son, don’t move. I’m coming downstairs right now,” I said as I darted downstairs with my burner, na’mean. When I got downstairs, I gave G. Baby a brotherly hug and then hopped into his ride. The interior of the ride was mad crazy. Laced up with tan-colored seat, a navigation system, a Bose speaker, and automatic door buttons, na’mean. “Son, this ride is mad crazy,” I said as I dabbed G. Baby. “Son, this is a brand-new GS 300 Coupé,” G. Baby replied as he opened the glove compartment and then pulled out a blunt of weed he had rolled up. He lit it up and then said, “Son, what the word?” The smell of the weed quickly aroused my weed-smoking habit. “Son, I can’t calling. My aunt tripping, na’mean. She want me to fall back to Atlanta next week word up,” I said as I puffed the blunt of weed. “My uncle lives down there,” I added with a vexation. “Son, you pulling out your card on that?” G. Baby asked with raised brows. “Son, I’m thinking about that, na’mean.” “Son, you know how we do. Get rich, son, and bounce back to your partner, na’mean,” G. Baby said, meaning whoever made it to the top would look out for the other. “Son, I got that we family word up,” I shot back to G. Baby as I ed the blunt back to him. G. Baby took a long drag and then leaned back on the cozy tan seat.

At that moment, the inside of his ride was smoked out with smoke as the sound of Biggie Smalls’s “One More Chance” filled the airwaves from the Bose speakers. I was high as the kite. My eyes were low. Plus G. Baby’s ride had me feeling cozy. I swear that ride was jeweled up. As I leaned back on the cozy tan seat, I lit up the last cigarette in the box of Newport that I had and said, “Son, this ride is mad crazy. Yo, is this ride for flight at Fourteenth Street?” meaning if the ride is for chop shop. “Son, you’ve call it. I’m about to cake this shit up to the chop shop,” G. baby said with a smile. “Word,” I shot back. “To the motha’,” G. Baby shot back at me with the same phrase, na’mean.

CHAPTER TWO

The Move to Atlanta

I stared down from the Greyhound bus window toward the red Ford Escort vehicle with an Atlanta tag. At that moment, my mind was drained with different kinds of thoughts. The move to stay in Atlanta wasn’t the right move because I had mad love for New York, especially Brooklyn. I felt I shouldn’t have listened to Auntie Monique, even though my nonchalant behavior had forced her to make her decision. My love for the street holds no hands. I would never trade it for anything, na’mean. As I was going through my thought process, the old woman that sat close to me in the Greyhound bus distracted my thought process as she gestured her fingers to the window like she was about to say something to me. Instead she pulled down the coat she was wearing down to properly cover her body, na’mean. Within a second, she looked at me with a raised brow and said, “Ain’t you cold?” I shook my head and replied, “I’m from New York, and I’m used to this kind of weather.” At that moment, the cold wind of the day was blowing through the open window like a fan. “I’m getting old for this kind of cold. Do you mind if the window is closed down a little bit?” the old woman said. Without hesitation, I turned the window knob and then pulled it down to a half crack. “Thank you, young man,” she added with a smile and then turned her face toward the book that she was reading. An hour and a half later, as I was listening to Wu-Tang Clan’s “36 Chamber,” I began to wonder in my mind, thinking, If my pop and mom were alive, would my life be like this? That thought left a deep hole in my heart as the duct tape I had used to wrap around the five ounces of mad purple haze (weed) on my body began to make me itch. Within a blink of an eye, my mind drifted back to Atlanta. With one snap of the finger, I began to wonder how I would jump-start to get rid of the weed in some neighborhood I don’t even know about in Atlanta. I’ve learned it is never good to sell drugs in someone else’s hood without knowing your way out of that hood.

Born 2 Da Street Poem

I’m like the sun that shines by your side at daytimes, The moon and the stars that give you light and night. Without me, you’re nothing Take away everything and all you have is me—the street Nothing should catch you by surprise if you walk with me Through the shadow of death. Fear no evil ’cuz you breathe in evil. You’re many and when you die, Another soul is born 2 da street.

At 3:45 p.m., the Greyhound bus pulled in to the rest-area station. The cool breeze of the day felt like a Bahamas breeze as I stepped out from the bus. I checked around the rest-area station to make sure there was no undercover cop. After that, I began to motion toward the building where the restroom was. When I got there, I walked in into the male restroom and then locked the door behind me. Inside the restroom, I laid my four-five on the floor and then began to adjust the duct tape I had used to wrap up the five ounces of purple haze around my body to stop the itching. After I was done adjusting the duct tape, I tucked my fourfive back on my waistline. Finally, after I had walked out from the building where the restroom was, I sat down on the wooden bench outside the rest-area station and then lit up the blunt

of weed I had rolled up for the trip. As I inhaled and exhaled, my body began to mellow down into a comfortable zone, na’mean. Suddenly as I was getting high on the wooden bench, blazing the phat-ass blunt of purple haze, two mad chicks approached me. I have seen them early when they entered into the bus at the Greyhound terminal in New York. At that time, I was not in the mood to holla at them because my mind was stuck up on something else, na’mean. “Hey, that’s how you do it. Why you ain’t holla at sisitas?” one of the chicks said and then introduced herself as Esha. “This my best friend, Tiffany.” Esha was mad pretty. Her skin was flawless, and her hairstyle was banging. “Yo, my bad. I’m used to bein’ around pretty women that don’t smoke,” I lied. “By the way, my name is Sorrow,” I added as I ed the blunt of weed to Esha. Esha puffed the blunt of weed about three times. And then blew a ring of smoke in the air before she ed the blunt of weed to Tiffany. On the other side, Tiffany was a mad pretty chick. She reminds me of Eve, the female rapper from Ruff Ryders. She stood about six foot one tall with a mocha skin, nice hair, fine hips, and a D-cup set of titties, na’mean. After the three of us had finished smoking the blunt of weed, we were high like the kite. Esha was giving me a mad eye at that time. Her body language was all over me like a cloud. But being the nigga that I am, I overlooked it and then began to roll up another blunt of weed. By the time I had finished rolling the blunt of weed as fast as I could, Esha said, “Hey, Sorrow, you know we don’t have no time to blaze that shit up. Our rest time is over. The bus driver should be waiting for us now.” “Yo, ma’, I think you’re right. I was just rolling this shit up for later,” I lied. “Okay, Sorrow, we’ll see you later in the bus. Thank you for the blunt,” Tiffany said with a pretty smile. “Fo’ sure. I’ll see y’all later in the bus,” I said as Esha and Tiffany began to motion toward the bus. By the time I walked into the bus, everyone that rode in the bus was seated. At six foot one tall, all eyes were on me as I walked back to my seat. I kept my head up and kept walking. I was high like a ma’fucker, so that shit was nothing to me.

When I got to my seat, Tiffany had taken my seat. Before I could say anything to her, she pointed toward Esha and then said, “Hey, make sure you’re nice to her.” In my mind, I knew what they were up to, na’mean. When I got to where Esha was sitting at, Esha was pretending like she was reading a book when I walked up to her. She was sitting at the last seat at the back. With her head down toward the book she was holding, her full lips were glossing for a kiss as I stared at it for a second and then said, “Yo, excuse me. Do you know if this seat is reserved?” Playing the crack-a-wise game, Esha looked up at once and then replied, “Lemme think. It is reserved for this guy named Sorrow. Oh yeah, I think it is you. Ain’t you the one?” I smiled at once and then said, “Yeah, it is me, the gentleman named Sorrow.” At the end of the crack-a-wise game, I finally sat down beside Esha. Once we had begun to know each other, Esha began to get loose like a freak. She stroked me repeatedly with her erect nipples. At that moment, I kept it cool, pretending like I was not interested with her seductive game. Meanwhile, my dick was hard as a rock to the extent that a ma’fucker could see my dick print. When Esha noticed I was hard, she placed her left hand on my dick and began to massage it. At that time, I felt like I was daydreaming. Slowly and steadily, Esha began to unbuckle my belt. Once she had finally succeeded, she began to suck my dick in an upward and downward motion. She was good at it, plain and simple, na’mean. About two hours later, we were in Atlanta. I had never thought that Atlanta was prettier than my imagination of what it would look like. As the Greyhound bus pulled up at the Atlanta terminal station. My old-head Uncle Mike was at the terminal to pick me up. As he approached me, I was wondering what was in his mind, as he kept smiling. At that moment, Esha and Tiffany were still with me like a glue, na’mean. The look on Tiffany’s face flagged that she was feeling Uncle Mike as I glanced at her staring at Uncle Mike. Dressed in all-white Adidas sneakers, a crispy white button-ups, and crispy black jeans, Uncle Mike’s appearance was madlooking. He looked more like a player than a lame-ass ma’fucker that I had thought he might be. Na’mean.

I introduced Esha and Tiffany to Uncle Mike after we had hugged each other like a father-and-son type of shit. Right then, Uncle Mike offered to give Esha and Tiffany a ride to their crib. Being the nigga that I am, I sat at the backseat with Esha so that my uncle could have the space to kick it with Tiffany while Esha and I chop things up in the backseat. As we headed to Esha and Tiffany’s crib on Northside Drive, Tiffany began to flirt in an uncontrollable manner at Uncle Mike. She kissed Uncle Mike several times on the neck like she was sucking on a candy bar. On the other side, Esha tried the best she could to impress me. She was feeling my style or, should I say, my nameable New York accent. Although I liked Esha, she got a little bit of class in her, plus she was studying to be a physical therapist at Spellman College. When we got to Esha and Tiffany’s apartment, Esha wrote down her phone number on a piece of paper and then handed it to me. She kissed me on the cheek and then said, “Sorrow, I really want to kick it with you. I need a chance to get to know you, but this school stuff is sometimes conflicted. So maybe we could—” I interrupted Esha and then said, “Mummy, I got your number. Do what you do ’cuz your education comes first, na’mean.” I lied just to know where her head is at mentally. “Ooh . . . you such a good guy,” Esha said and then kissed me on the cheek. Meanwhile, Uncle Mike and Tiffany got into a kissing action in the front seat like they were attached like a magnet and zinc, na’mean.

CHAPTER THREE

The Jack Move

When it rains, something special happens in the dark. The magnificent splendor of those that gratify the supernatural power of the darkness believed that the darkness would grant them with a godsend of the dark to do evil. Dressed in all black with Timberland boots, Dino and Kurrency sat quietly inside a black Mustang as the rain dropped heavily. They stared at the windshield wiper as it swung left to right, enabling them to see the front view of the car while they await their prey—a notorious drug dealer named Dro. As the rain kept pouring, Kurrency adjusted his seat headrest into a comfortable zone. He loved it when it rains heavily, especially on a time like this when he and his dawg, Dino, are on a jack move. That love helps him to dictate that when it rains, it’s good luck for him and Dino. Then on the other side, it is a bad luck for the cops because the raindrops would make it hard to obtain sufficient evidence on a wet ground. “Bruh, where dis motherfucker at?” Kurrency said with an angry voice. With so much respect, Dino quietly glanced at Kurrency. He knew Kurrency was overready to get the jack move over with, seeing the expression on his face. “What time is it?” Kurrency added. “Yo, Dino, I think you should holla at your connect, Moon, to find out where dis nigga at,” Kurrency voiced up. “Naw, if Moon ain’t call me yet, forget him. Maybe shit ain’t go the way he had planned it,” Dino said. As a young motherfucker, Dino had mastered the rules of jack move. His sixth rule was to stay alert at all cost. He never let anything catch him by surprise. “Bruh, I still think you should let you man, Moon, knows if dis nigga doesn’t shows up. He still got to pay us for this shit. Our time is strictly money,” Kurrency commented as he tucked his gun on his waistline. Dino thought about what his dawg, Kurrency, had just said. Although as a young G., he knows how the game of jack moves goes. He understood that sometimes, things don’t necessary go the way it is planned. But above that, he always holds on to his composure, and that was the main reason why he and Moon had come a long way hustling together. As far as Moon is concerned, he respected him to the

fullness because his reputation on the street is solid to death, and that is why he had chosen to deal with Moon. Lots of times, Dino would always recall how Moon would set a lickup with his grimy-ass bitch, Gina, and then put him down on the jack move to get money. As Dino began to put his thoughts on check, his cell phone vibrated. He grabbed it at once and then checked the number on the screen. The number on the screen of his cell phone was a regular number that he knew by heart. He pressed the talk button and then said, “Talk to me.” It was Moon on the other end of the phone. “Yo, listen carefully to me. Everything is coming at you. That motherfucker is on the roof on 745 BMW. So be patient. Gina had just hit me up with everything. She’s with him. So stay posted, aight?” Moon said and then hung up at once. The smile on Dino’s face was bright as the early morning sunlight. He knew Moon would come through like he had said. To him that means another day, another dollar. Quickly Dino began to think about copping a fresh new ride after the lick, when he had received his share of the lick. Twenty minutes later, Dro pulled into his apartment condo in a white 745 BMW. On the enger side was the gorgeous Gina. The grimmy-ass Lady Moon had use for the jack move. As Dro and Gina both stepped out of the car, Dino and Kurrency watched them quietly from the corner of the rectangular apartment condo where they had parked. “Yo, the move has been approved,” Kurrency said. “It is on fo’sho, bruh,” Dino chimed in as he kept his sight at Dro as Dro began to walk into his apartment condo with a briefcase. At that time, Gina lit up a cigarette, smoked it halfway, and tossed the other half on the ground as a sign to Dino and Kurrency that Dro is strapped. Once Gina had finally walked inside of Dro’s condo, Dino and Kurrency quickly put their mask on and then darted toward Dro’s apartment front door. Busting in into the apartment, Dino and Kurrency yelled in one unison form, “Lay down . . . lay your motherfuck ass down now.” Dino and Kurrency continued to yell as they burst into Dro’s apartment. Everthing was planned accurately. Gina had left the door unlock. Quickly Dro was caught off guard. Dino and Kurrency took him by surprise “Aight . . . y’all got me,” Dro said as he lay flat on the floor. At that moment, Gina was nowhere to be found. She had walked out of the apartment. As Dino approached Dro, he pointed his 9 mm at the back of Dro’s head. “Yo know what it is. Play stupid, nigga, and I will bust your cap up,” Dino said as

Kurrency walked into Dro’s kitchen and then picked up a silver fork. Without hesitation, he lit up the stove and then began to heat the silver fork to the extreme point. As Dino continued to pistol-whip Dro on the back of his head after he had asked Dro to give up the dope when Dro kept insisting he had no dope, Kurrency was still in the kitchen. Five minutes later, Kurrency walked out of the kitchen with the heated fork. At that time, Dino had Dro stripped off his pants to his kneecaps. As Dro looked up and saw what was coming at him, he gnashed his teeth. In his mind, he knew he couldn’t give up the two keys and the fifty thousand dollars that belonged to his cousin, Knowledge. “Yo, man, I’m not lying. All I got is on the drawer. It is five thousand dollars. Yo, I’m not—” Before Dro could finish with his sentence, Kurrency placed the hot heated fork on his nut sack. Immediately Dro screamed out loud as the sensational burn hit him like he was hit with a sledgehammer. At once he pointed to the plush couch and said, “Man . . . shit—” He paused for a second to swallow the hard pill as he fought for his breath. “Yo, that shit is in the couch, under the couch,” Dro’s voice cracked up. Without hesitation, Dino began to search all over the plush couch. He flipped the plush couch upside down and then finally retrieved the two keys of dope sealed with a red and a black nylon-phane wrap. The two keys of dope were hidden inside a secret cache built under the plush couch. After Dino had snatched up the keys, he tossed the plush couch to a corner and then motioned toward Dro. Dino knew that Dro had something beside the two keys. He knew that drug dealers always keep a nice cash within themselves. As this thought went through Dino’s mind, he pointed his 9 mm burner at Dro and said, “Yo, where the briefcase at? Where is the money? Don’t make it hard on yourself. I ain’t playing.” Even though Dino knew he couldn’t blow Dro’s head off because Moon had warned him not to kill Dro, he felt the urges that he was going toward the extreme limit. As his mind began to cultivate this thought, Dro said, “Man, the briefcase is in the bedroom, under the bed.” The sensational burns of the heated fork had him squeaking like a peacock that he didn’t want the hot heated fork to burn his nut sack again.

CHAPTER FOUR

Fresh on the Block

The rainfall dropped down on the fertile soil and watered the palm kernel seeds that sprung out with a pointed projunction to the earth’s surface. Among its peers, the race was to become the tallest and prominent of it all. One week later, son, I was posting on the block to get rid of the five ounces of the purple haze I had brought from New York. At Uncle Mike’s neighborhood called the Cross Town. The liquor store there was where the ma’fuckers at Cross Town sold their drugs. As I was posting on the block doing what I do, some guy approached me. His name was Black Boy. He told me that he had sensed that I wasn’t from around the block when he heard my New York accent. At that moment, I had expected a ma’fucker at Cross Town to try me about selling drugs at their hood. And then try to tell me to leave the block. But at the same time, I was ready to smoke anyone that tried to, but when Black Boy had approached me, he was cool. He told me about the block and how the trap star niggas run shit at the block. Na’mean. As I was on the block, doing what I do, my bread was stacking up as I was getting rid of the purple haze in sacks. From nowhere, two guys pulled in to the block in a white Mazda and then approached me. One of the guys was darkskinned and about five foot nine tall. He was the one that had approached me first before the short cocky guy walked up on me with a mean mug that expressed he was mad at me. “Yo, we know you ain’t from down here. This is our block and no bird feed on it. You know what I’m talking about,” the tall guy said as he flashed his burner. He had tucked in his Gucci belt. “Yeah, motherfucker, take your shit outta here before our hammer starts cocking on—” Before the short cocky guy could finished his sentence, I interrupted him and said, “Son, the bird feed on where he wanted. Son, we can talk hammer to hammer word up.” I flashed my four-five at him.

“Motherfucker, what are you saying?” The tall guy said as he gazed at me from head down. “Son, I’m saying whatever y’all wanna do, I’m with it. So speak about it word up,” I said with a fierce look. “Aight, you got it. Come on, Crazy-E, let bounced outta here. The hood don’t take a nigga out the hood. Niggas take nigga out of the hood,” the tall guy said as they began to motion away toward the white Mazda. “Son, I’ve seen a ma’fucker died in his hood. Shot in the eyes and nose by outsider like me, na’mean,” I yelled as they hopped into the white Mazda and then zoomed off. That night, I stayed at the block until 12:45 p.m., getting rid of my purple haze I had bagged in sacks. When I had decided to head to the crib, the rain began to drizzle. On my way to the crib, I noticed the two ma’fuckers that had approached me in a white Mazda parked on the corner of a building. They were smoking a blunt inside the white Mazda. As soon as I walked ed them, one of them said, “Ayo, New York, I got something for you. Yo, come here and take a look.” At that moment, I kept walking. Suddenly, as I looked back, they were slowly pulling up on me. Without hesitation, I pulled out my burner and started busting. Keeping my legs at edge, I darted toward a tree for a shield as slugs began to fly toward me. They were busting at me outrageously at the same time that I was busting at them. But being the ma’fucker that I am, I knew that if I stopped busting, it would send a message to them that I was hit or ran out of bullets. Slowly as the white Mazda began to pull toward me, I dashed out of the tree and started blasting a mad shot at the white Mazda. Swerving side to side, the driver of the white Mazda quickly made a U-turn and then dashed out onto the street opposite them.

* * *

Dino and Kurrency walked around a black Cadillac SUV that had a For Sale sign. iring it, Dino checked the interior and then handle back the keys to the

sales man. “Yo, I’ll be back to cop this motherfucker. Give me about an hour,” Dino said to the salesman. “I’ll take your word for that young blood. You come back with $22,000. It is all yours,” the salesman pushed as he walked away, leaving Dino with his thought about the SUV Cadillac Escalade. “Damn this motherfucker is tight. You know what I’m talking about,” Dino said to Kurrency. “Yeah, this motherfucker is really on point. Niggas on the block would hate while the bitches loves it,” Kurrency said as he dabbed Dino with a smile. “Yeah, I can’t wait to get this Gwap from the two keys and then come back and cop this motherfucker,” Dino said with a burning desire as he stare at the SUV. At that moment, what they were waiting on approached them. It was Ms. Gloria. One of the bottom, hardcore female that Knowledge had used to set up the purchase of the two keys from Dino and Kurrency through Dino’s father’s exprostitute sexy diamond. Dressed in a pant suit and a top-notch blouse, Gloria’s looks was mesmerizing. Her thick curly hair was pulled elegantly up on her head. Nobody would ever guess that she is involved in a gang of notorious drug dealers that Knowledge had bred up in Atlanta, but that is just a guess. Gloria is as smart as Bill Gates. She owns a beauty parlor, a travel agency, and a luxurious car dealership. As Gloria approached Dino and Kurrency, she introduced herself with a handshake. She knew that Dino was talking about purchasing one of her expensive SUV Cadillac Escalade at the lot. But that wasn’t why she had approached them. “Okay, guys, y’all follow me. I got a call from Knowledge, and he’s waiting for y’all,” Gloria said as she motioned to her brand-new CL 500 Mercedes-Benz at the lot. The quiet drive kept Dino and Kurrency very watchful to their surrounding as they pulled into Clairmont Lodge, behind Gloria. At the age of seventeen years, Dino had mastered the rules of street games, especially when dealing with unknown individual. In his mind, he knew Knowledge was not an average type

of guy, and that means he would be the one that will do the talking while Kurrency watches his back. Finally, Dino and Kurrency made it upstairs to room 112, with Gloria. As soon as Dino and Kurrency walked in behind Gloria, they were stopped immediately by Knowledge’s bodyguard, Tony a.k.a. Hammer Skin. Tony stood at six foot nine tall, with a heavy weight of 250 pounds strong. Tony got his nickname (Hammer Skin) after he ate up twelve bullets by gunshots that were meant for his boss, Knowledge. As Tony patted Dino and Kurrency down, he turned to Knowledge and said, “No wires. They’re clean but strapped boss.” At that time Knowledge was starring at Dino and Kurrency with an awful look. For some reason, he knew Dino and Kurrency were younger than he had thought. He knew they were young with the heart of a lion. Nothing could impress him than that. Dino and Kurrency reminded Knowledge of when he was young and at their age. Immediately Knowledge began to recall when his father and mother died when he was at the age of sixteen years. He was left behind to feed himself, and that was when he turned to the street. “So what y’all got for me,” Knowledge said as he gestured at Tony. “Yeah, I got two of dem thang for forty thousand dollar a stack. You know what I’m talking about,” Dino said as Tony began to retrieve a black briefcase and then positioned it in front of Knowledge. “Show me the money and I’ll show you dem thang,” Dino added. Without hesitation, Knowledge began to reveal the crispy hundred-dollar bills in the briefcase and then said, “I got thirty thousand dollars right now for the two chickens. Take it or leave it.” Immediately Dino began to reveal the two keys. He was satisfied with the amount Knowledge had proposed. To him that was free cash. With two steps forward, he walked closer to Knowledge with the two keys of dope. But when Knowledge noticed the red and black nylon-phane that was used to seal the keys of dope, he felt goose bumps rush all over his skin as he stared at the dope. He knew the two keys of dope were the two keys that his cousin Dro said he was robbed for few weeks ago by two youngsters. As Knowledge thought about the incident that happened to his cousin Dro, instantly he knew without a guess that

Dino and Kurrency were the ones that had robbed his cousin for the dope that belonged to him. For a moment, he felt his anger arouse the mind of a cold killer, but being the man that he is, he began to overlook what Dino and Kurrency had done to his cousin. But first, he would’ve to let Dino and Kurrency know that the dope was his dope. “So, young brothas, I know y’all don’t know who I’m. Every drug in Atlanta that comes with a red and black seal comes from me. I am Knowledge a.k.a. “The Dream,” Knowledge said and then cleared his throat. “Young brothas, y’all stole my dope and then try to sell it to me,” he added with a tiny smile but still impressed at Dino’s and Kurrency’s braveness. As Knowledge’s words sounded like an atomic bomb to Dino, Dino quickly pulled out his burner and then pointed it at Knowledge. At that moment, Dino began to feel that Knowledge knew how they had gotten the two keys. Just as the feeling of uneasiness began to run through Dino’s mind, Gina pulled out her burner and said, “Put your gun down or I’ll blow your brains out, motherfucker.” She pointed her gun at Dino’s head with a mean look. “Yo, fuck you, bitch. You betta hope you got me first while you blow his brains out ’cuz if you don’t, your brains is mine,” Kurrency said as he pointed his burner at Gina’s head. “Now what’s happening, bitch?” Kurrency added as he cocked the trigger of his burner. At that time, Knowledge quickly sensed the rage of bloodbath in the room. He knew Dino and Kurrency weren’t playing. They had impressed him enough, but that was not why he had come here to see. So he gestured at Gina to put her gun down. As Gina began to put her burner down, Knowledge said, “Now, brothas, y’all put your gun down and let’s do business.” Taking Knowledge’s word, Dino and Kurrency slowly began to put their guns down as demanded. Seeing that Dino and Kurrency were obeying his command, Knowledge walked closer to Gloria. He knew Gloria was boiled. “Relax, sister. Nothing good come easily,” Knowledge said politely to Gloria. In Knowledge’s mind, he knew Dino and Kurrency had worked hard to come this far. As a matter of fact, he liked their street mentality and he wanted to recruit them to work for him. “Okay, brothas, let’s do business,” Knowledge said as he motioned to swap out the briefcase of his money for the keys of dope. “Yo, buddy, today is your lucky day,” Gloria said with a vex and then ed a tiny smile to Knowledge as she

turned toward him. After Knowledge had successfully swapped out his cash for the dopes, he pierced one of the wrapped up dope with a sharp-edged knife and then sample the dope. “Ha . . . this is my baby,” Knowledge exclaimed, meaning that no dope in Atlanta is as good as his dope. In his mind, he knew that the dope was his. He knew Dino and Kurrency had jack moved his cousin for the dopes. “Aight, brothas. This is how we do business,” Knowledge said as he motioned toward Dino. “This is my business card. Y’all ma’fuckers holla at me if y’all want a job,” Knowledge added as he handed to Dino his business card. “Aight, fam. We will get at you when we need one,” Dino said quickly as they headed to the door.

* * *

Still Hugging Da Block

At 10:00 p.m. on a Friday night, as I headed to the Liquor Store, some guys in a banging Escalade stopped me. One of the guys inside the Escalade stepped out to chop things up with me. The jewelries he was wearing were blinging the fuck out of my eyes as we shook hands. “Uh, what’s happening?” he said. “Son, ain’t nothing happening. I’m just trying to get some cash, na’mean,” I replied. “Bruh, my name is Dino. You might have heard about me, but if you don’t, me and my partner, Kurrency, started this trap star shit on the block. You know what I’m talking about,” Dino said. “But anyway, I know who you are. Your uncle, Uncle Mike, and my pop were tight buddies before my pop died,” he added.

“Word,” I said with a raised brow. “Yeah, they were really the legend here in Cross Town. Yo, that shit that happened with you and my cousin Crazy-E is cool now. I had talked to my cousin to let that shit go. Niggas in this motherfucker gonna start to get money. So shit fixing go as usual now. I had talk to Crazy-E to chill out once I had found who you are,” Dino remarked. “Son, it’s all good. But what’s the deal?” I asked as I gazed at Dino. “Bruh, ain’t nothing really. Me and my partner Kurrency was about to check out some broad at the motel when we saw you. My nigga Kurrency wanna know if you wanna ride with us,” Dino said as he dug his hand into his jeans pocket. As I was thinking of what Dino had just said, Dino pulled out his cell phone and then dialed some numbers. With my hand glued to my burner, I kept my eyes at Dino. Once the other person at the end of the phone picked up, Dino said, “Hello, Uncle Mike. This is Dino.” Dino kept quiet for a minute and then said, “Yeah. I’m okay, Uncle. I’m staying out of trouble.” Dino smiled and then continued, “Me and your nephew Sorrow had just met. He’s here with me, and I wanted to know if he could hang out tonight with me and Kurrency.” As I listened attentively to Dino, I almost laughed that the dude was tripping, na’mean. After Dino had finished speaking to Uncle Mike, he ed me the phone to speak to Uncle Mike. “Yeah, what’s good, Unc?” I said. “Jacob, it’s okay to hang out with Dino. His father was like a brother to me. Dino is a good kid. So go ahead and have fun. Y’all make sure y’all stay out of trouble,” Uncle Mike said sharply and then hang up at once. As I hopped into Dino’s Escalade, Dino introduced me to Kurrency as we shook hands. Immediately Kurrency began to tell me that he heard about the shoot-out between me and Crazy-E. He explained what the deal was on the block when a new face that the trap star niggas don’t know trap drugs on their block. As Kurrency spoke about the circumstance that is behind trapping on the block at Cross Town when a ma’fucker ain’t from there, I used that time to check on the interior of Dino’s SUV Escalade. Na’mean. Son, the interior of Dino’s Escalade was mad crazy. That shit was laced up with a navigator monitor system, custom-made tan leather seat with Dino’s name on it, and four Panasonic DVD players with a portable play station were all laced up

in that ma’fucker. The Panasonic speakers were mad crazy as the sound of the TI blared on that ma’fucker, na’mean. When we got to the motel, we walked upstairs and then headed to room 106. Dino knocked on the door, and a female voice said, “Who is it?” Dino replied, “Bitch, this is Dino. Open the damn door.” At that moment, I said to myself, Damn, Dino got this chick on some check mood shit. Na’mean. Son, when she had finally opened the door, my eyes blinked the fuck out when I saw how pretty this chick was. Her skin was mad flawless, her boy curve was crazy, and her eyes were sexy like a ma’fucker. “Hey, baby,” she said to Dino as she hugged him like glue. “Yo, this is my partner, Kurrency and Sorrow,” Dino said. “Hey, I’m Samantha.” The smile on Samantha’s face brightened up as she saw the platinum chains on Kurrency’s neck as they swung from left to right. “I’m Kurrency, the best you could ever get,” Kurrency said with a joke that exposed the gap in Samantha teeth. Samantha rolled her eyes and said to me, “Hey, I’m Samantha. Nice to meet you.” I shook hands with Samantha and said, “Just call me Sorrow.” As we stepped into the room, Samantha quickly introduced her friend, Brittany, to us. Brittany was the opposite of Samantha. She was bad-looking on the face, but she has a mad set of titties on her. Plus her ass is phat like a ma’fucker. Na’mean. “So what the fuck y’all been doing? I know y’all wanna be bad bitches,” Dino asked Samantha as he sat close to her. Samantha smiled and said, “Baby, we had been waiting on you. You know I’m ready to do whatever you want.” “Yeah, she has been talking about your bad ass all day long,” Brittany chimed in.

“Ooh, now I’m bad. Do you know what bad is?” Dino shot at Brittany. At that time, Kurrency was rolling up a blunt. By the time he had finished, I had sparked up the blunt of weed I had rolled up on the block. “Yeah, I know what bad is,” Brittany replied as she walked up on me and then began to unzip my jeans. When she had finished, she took my dick down her mouth completely and then said, “This what bad stand for—I’m a bad bitch,” she bragged. I was completely blown at Brittany’s sexual escapade. My dick was hard as a ma’fucker, and when she had eased up on me, I completely went limp. “Yo, Brittany, why you teased a nigga like that?” I said as Kurrency ed me the blunt of weed. “Can’t you handle that?” she replied at once. “Yo, you’re crazy like a ma’fucker. I would have you crawl with your stomach,” I shot back at Brittany. “Ooh, girl, you’re in trouble,” Samantha said with a smile as Dino and Kurrency burst out laughing. “Ayo, Sorrow, tell Samantha what you would do to her if she crossed the line,” Dino chimed in as he grabbed Samantha’s ass cheek with his both hands. “Son, I’ll let you handle her, na’mean. It ain’t fun if my partners don’t have none,” I said. Dino smiled and then said, “Bruh, I dig that. I ain’t fun for real if my hommies don’t get—” Before Dino could finished up with his sentence, Kurrency interrupted and said, “Fuck that I’ll have Samantha walk on her back after I had fucked the shit outta of her pussy.” “Ooh, girl, did he just try you like that?” Brittany said with a laugh as she was about to puffy the blunt of weed. “Girl talk is cheap,” Samantha said as she stood up and then walked toward

Kurrency. She lifted her miniskirt up and then exposed her pussy. “This pussy is deep, and you gotta have twelve inches dick to accomplish your mission.” As soon as Samantha remarked, she gave Brittany a high five. In my mind, I was hoping that Kurrency wouldn’t let her slide like that ’cuz that was a slap on the face. “Bitch, if your pussy is deeper than a peacock’s throat, I don’t wanna fuck you. You know what I’m talking about,” Kurrency said as we all burst out laughing, na’mean. Twenty minutes later, after we had smoked about four blunts of weed, everybody was high as the kite. At that moment, Brittany was all over me like a magnet. She kissed me on the cheek several times and then proceeded to cut the light in the room off. After she had done turning the light off, she walked up to me and then sat on my lap. Slowly she began to kiss me on my neck like a runaway slut. “Yo, Brittany, why did you tease me like that when I walked into the room?” I said as I whispered into Brittany’s ear. Brittany chuckled and then said, “Didn’t you like it?” “Naw, that was some crazy shit word up,” I replied as Brittany began to undo her dress. When she had finished, she began to suck my dick with a candy in her mouth. “Yo, Brittany, make sure you get my nigga right how he want it,” Dino exclaimed as he scooped Samantha on top of the bed. Son, after Brittany had finished sucking the shit outta my dick, she placed the condom I had given her on my dick and then used her mouth to stretch the condom all the way to the base of my dick. Without hesitation, Brittany positioned herself for doggy-style action. She clapped her phat ass as I moved up closer to penetrate her wet pussy. Son, I smacked Brittany’s phat ass and then slowly slid my hard dick into her wet pussy. “Uh hmm . . . it feels good,” Brittany said as she grabbed onto the couch. With a steady manner, I began to pound Brittany’s wet pussy. I spread her phatass cheeks as I began to take her to a place the UPS or the FedEx couldn’t reach —climax. As I continued to fuck Brittany doggy style, her moaning escalated me to the highest point. Her sweet, sexy honey voice got me overpowering my sex

drive. Each pound sounded like an atomic bomb. “Ooh . . . my god, uh hmm . . . you got it going on,” Brittany said. Meanwhile on the other side, Dino got Samantha yelling like a ma’fucker. She was moaning at the same time Brittany was moaning, na’mean. Finally, about twenty minutes, I switched Brittany to missionary style. Her both legs were positioned facing the roof as I hit her in every position or, should I say, every corner of her vagina. “Damn, it feels so good,” Brittany said as she squeezed her double-set titties. She caressed them and then began to suck her hard nipples ionately. While I was still boning Brittany, Kurrency had begun to get a blow job from Samantha. By the time I had finished boning Brittany, she was exhausted after she had cummed several times, na’mean.

CHAPTER FIVE

Murda the Snitch

Detective Richardson was sitting in his office at the C-8 unit, sifting a dozen caseloads when a call came in from the DEA office in Washington, DC. “This is detective Richardson,” he said as he sifted through some files. “Detective Richardson, this is detective Bernard Coleman from Washington, DC, DEA Office Division.” “Hey, buddy, how is it going at there?” Detective Richardson said with a sincere concern. He ed Detective Bernard Coleman very well when they had met during a t task force in Washington, DC, two years ago. “Man! It is hell around here, Detective Richardson,” Detective Bernard Coleman replied and then began to inform Detective Richardson that Bryant Smith a.k.a. Murda, a notorious drug dealer from Atlanta is in custody for the killing of a fellow drug rival and three DEA agents in Washington last week. “This is sad news, Detective Bernard,” Detective Richardson said. “Yes, it is. It’s been a while since we lost officers in the line of duty,” Detective Bernard Coleman remarked. “So, Detective, what can I do for you?” Detective Richardson asked. “I need a trace of track and justice, Detective Richardson. Murda had agreed to testify at Knowledge, who is a notorious drug leader of a gang named The Dream in Atlanta,” Detective Bernard Coleman said. “I’ve never heard of that gang, Detective Bernard Coleman,” Detective Richardson shot back. “I’m very much aware that you haven’t, Detective. Last week, Murda has agreed to testify as part of a plea bargain. He said that Tyrone Randell a.k.a. Knowledge was involved in the killing of two of your agents, Kelvin McClair and Timothy Anderson, four weeks ago during a drug raid in Atlanta,” Detective Bernard said

and then continued, “Detective Richardson, a trial would be held to bring Murda to justice next month. And as far as the plea bargain, we need Knowledge for that, Detective Richardson,” Detective Bernard Coleman said. “This is serious, Detective Bernard. I’ll have my men track Knowledge as soon as possible,” Detective Richardson said as the phone dial tone confirmed that both parties had ended the call with an agreement.

Born 2 Da Street Poem

When Indictment Comes

To the faithful soldiers around the world, around the street. North, South, West, and East, you stayed true to da game— Loyalty, respect, and honesty you had promised me when I found you I’m the street, you dwell in me, and I had promised you That I’ll close every wound you opened up with your burner Because you had promised never to reveal my sons To the law when indictment comes.

To the unfaithful soldiers, you had turned your backs on me. You had broken your promise and revealed my sons to the law. You used my name and disobeyed the code of the faithful soldiers When the indictment came, you snitch me out.

* * *

CHAPTER SIX

Good Friday

Son, one Friday evening, Uncle Mike and I were just chilling in the living room, watching the news on TV after we had returned from copping some shit from downtown of Atlanta. I don’t usually watch TV so I let Uncle Mike to do the channel flipping. I knew he was trying to catch the headline news so I didn’t bother him because at that moment, the only thing that was on my mind was the trip to South Carolina with Black Boy to cop the three pounds of weed from his connection on a low price, na’mean. As the thought of the trip ran through my mind, Uncle Mike interrupted my thought process and asked me if I think I was man enough to hold myself down in the street. I glanced at him at once and said, “Yeah, I’m a man before anything, and I could definitely hold myself down.” At that moment, the look on my face flagged that I was curious to know what Uncle Mike meant. When Uncle Mike noticed the look on my face, he stood up and cut the TV off and then motioned toward me with a steady gaze. He kept quiet for a few minutes as he began to stare at my eyes without a blink of an eye. Not knowing what Uncle Mike’s intentions were, I kept my poker face and then began to stare back at him with the same look, na’mean. Finally, when Uncle Mike realized that I wasn’t the average kid he thought that I was, as I kept staring at him, he pulled out a phat-ass blunt of weed he had rolled up and then began to light it up. Once the blunt of weed had lit up all the way around, Uncle Mike puffed it for about three times before he ed it to me. As I inhaled and exhaled the blunt of weed like a pro, Uncle Mike nodded his head and said, “Listen to me carefully ’cuz I’m about to give you the rules of the street game. Some of them you probably had known on your own. But first things first. I want you to know that the street don’t know nobody and what counts is not when you fall. It is whether you could get up that counts.” By the time Uncle Mike had finished giving me the rules of the street game, we had smoked about three blunts of weeds, back-to-back na’mean. We were high as the kite, but at the same time, we were definitely aware of what we were doing and got everything in control, na’mean. I knew Uncle Mike was a weed head just like me, so I was not worried about anything going out wrong.

As Uncle Mike and I kept chilling in the living room, enjoying the highness of the three blunts of weed we had smoked, my cell phone began to ring. It was Dino on the other end of the line. As I was about to stand up and walk into my room, Uncle Mike called my name and said, “One last thing. that carelessness is a cardinal sin in the game of the street. Too much mistakes are not tolerated in the game. So always prepare yourself for the worst because anything that could go wrong, would go wrong.” After Uncle Mike had finished what he wanted me to know, I walked into my room and then sat down on my bed to speak to Dino. “Son, what’s good?” I said. “Bruh, it is the money on the roof. Where you at?” Dino said with great enthusiasm. “Yo, I’m in the crib. You know how the kid do,” I replied at once. “Bruh, check this out. My man, Moon, got this jack move that he want me to take care off tonight. When we get the loot, we split it fifty-fifty with him. You know what I’m talking about,” Dino said and then continued, “So I wanna know if you’re in,” he added. Without hesitation, I said, “Son, count me up on it.” “Aight, bruh. Me and Kurrency will be at your spot around 11:00 p.m. so be ready, aight?” “Aight, son, get at me. Peace,” I said. “Peace, bruh,” Dino replied and then hung up. At exactly 11:00 p.m., Dino and Kurrency pulled up at my crib in a black Mustang. I gave them a dab and a brotherly hug before I hopped into the backseat. At that moment, Kurrency had ed me the blunt of weed that he was smoking. “Bruh, are you ready to get this cash?” Kurrency asked as I exhaled the blunt of weed smoke through my nose.

“Son, I’m ready like a ma’fucker,” I replied. At the sound of the quick response, Dino glanced at me and said, “Bruh, this move is a major move to hit some Italian guy.” Dino nodded his head and then continued, “Bruh, I fixing put you up on game real quick. Check this out. My connect, Moon, had been infiltrating some rich Italian guy named Tony through his grimmy-ass bitch Gina. Bruh, Gina and Tony had been fucking around for a minutes now. You know what I’m talking about.” “So where is this ma’fucker at?” I asked Dino as I slowly lit up a cigarette “Yo! That ma’fucker owns some fancy restaurant at Buckhead, and he would be at the t by the time we get there. You feel me?” Dino remarked with a smile. “Word,” I exclaimed. “Bruh, Moon got the shit set up with Gina, so everything is gravy,” Dino commented as he zoom ed the Lenox Mall at Buckhead, Atlanta.

* * *

As Tony Mullunni walked into his rectangular Italian restaurant building he had bought three years ago, his cell phone began to ring with a special tone. He knew he had to answer the call or hell will break loose at home. Flipping the top flap of his cell phone, he said, “Hey, baby, how are you doing?” Tony and his wife, Lisa, had been going through a marriage problem. Several times Lisa had caught Tony cheating on her. As Tony continued to cheat on Lisa, Lisa had threatened for a divorce several times, but Tony has his way to her heart. “You know, you make me sick, Tony,” Lisa said in an angry voice. “Honey, I’m sorry. I’m caught up with a lot of mess,” Tony lied. “One of my managers at the restaurant had an accident and—” Before Tony could finished up his sentence, Lisa interrupted and said, “And what? That you will not be home tonight, huh? You know what, Tony, I’m proud of you. You’re a good husband,” Lisa said and then hung up. At that moment, Gina had just walked into the restaurant, and when Tony Mullunni saw her, he motioned toward her with a bright smile and embraced her.

* * *

Son, five minutes after, we had pulled into the parking lot of the Buckhead Bread Company that Tony owns. Dino’s connection, Moon, pulled into the parking lot close to where we were. A bad ass bitch stepped out from Moon’s convertible Nissan 350Z. As Moon was about to pull off, from the parking lot, Dino blinked the headlights at him, and he blinked back and then zoomed off. “Yo! Bruh, that was the bitch Gina that had just stepped out from Moon’s ride,” Dino said as he reversed to the corner of the parking lot. I glanced at my watch at that moment. It was 12:00 p.m. Even though it was late, the whole Buckhead area was live as a ma’fucker. The clubs there stayed banging all night, and the fancy, elegant restaurant stayed open to quench the desire for food of the partygoers, na’mean. At 12:05 a.m., Gina and Tony walked out from the restaurant, holding hands like couples. At that time, we watched them carefully as they hopped into a black Yukon Denali. Gina’s appearance could entice any ma’fucker standing in front of her. Her body curves were banging, plus she wore tight-skin clothes that barely expose her double D set of titties and her phat ass, na’mean. As soon as Tony pulled out from the parking lot of his restaurant, slowly we began to tail him as he headed toward downtown of Atlanta. Dino knew where he was going; he knew everything about the lick and the kind of ma’fucker Tony was. Na’mean. Finally, as Tony Mullunni pulled up into the parking lot deck of Marriott Marquise, we were right behind him. At that moment, we began to put our ski masks on after Tony had parked beside a white 745 BMW at the far right end of the deck. In one unison, we jumped down and darted toward him. Without hesitation, Kurrency’s pistol-whipped him in his right eye while Dino and I grabbed onto his arms and then forced him back into the backseat of his Yukon Denali. At that moment, Gina had darted out of the parking lot deck with our ride as planned, na’mean.

After we had finished blindfolding Tony’s eyes, we began to duct-tape his arms and legs. At that moment, some white guy from the valet parking crew approached us from nowhere and said, “I’m calling the police. Do you guys know what you are doing? This is kidnapping, and it is a serious charge that could get each of you ten years in prison.” Son, without hesitation I rushed toward him and popped two straight shots into his head. In a hurry, we pushed out of the parking deck in Tony’s Yukon Denali, na’mean. About thirty minutes later, we pulled up into Tony’s mansion, near a cul-de-sac. A black tinted Rolls-Royce and a white 325 BMW were parked at the facade of Tony’s mansion. Yo, this ma’fucker is rich as fuck, I said in my mind as I stared at Tony’s fleet. Finally, after Dino had removed the blindfold off from Tony’s face, the look on his face flagged he was dazed with fear and confusion when he saw me pointing my 9 mm chrome to his face. “Looka here, dumb ass, we want one thing, one thing only from you or we’ll kill you,” Dino said as he unclipped Tony’s cell phone off from the belt clip that held his cell phone. “Please don’t kill me. I’ve two daughters. Just tell me what you want and it is a done deal,” Tony said calmly with a smart choice to save his life. He knew it was hit, and he couldn’t afford to play around with these thugs. In his mind, he knew Gina would have to pay with her life in due time. “That’s what I’m talking about because I was about to mock your daughters to show you we’re not playing but—” Before Dino could finish his sentence, Tony interrupted him and said, “What do you guys want?” Dino replied at once and said, “Your money. I want all the money you got in your secret cache. Don’t play with us. Now this your phone in my hand. Listen to me carefully. You’re going to tell me what is your house number and I’ll dial it,” Dino said and then continued, “Once your wife pick up the phone, get her to unlock the door to your house.” Dino knew Tony’s mansion was installed with alarms. He knew one mistake could fuck up the lick, na’mean. After Dino had instructed Tony to call his wife, I stepped out of the Yukon

Denali and walked toward the entrance door of Tony’s mansion. When I got there, I heard a female voice speaking with angry tones as she started to the door and then began to open the door. I counted two seconds and then yanked the door backward to its full opening. “Awe . . . awe . . . !” some white bitch screamed in pain as blood gushed out from her nose. I quickly stepped toward her and smashed her fiercely on the face. She collapsed instantly to the floor. Once Dino and Kurrency noticed that I had stepped into Tony’s crib. They walked in with Tony and shut the door behind them. When Tony saw his wife lying helplessly on the floor, he said, “Please don’t hurt my family. I’ve about fourteen million dollars at the basement downstairs.” When I heard the amount of loot Tony said he had in his basement, I felt like I got shot in the heart. Na’mean. As we began lead Tony to his basement, Kurrency grabbed the duffel bags and headed toward us. When we got to the basement, Tony didn’t waste no time. He walked straight to his storage room and then opened up his secret cache that was built into a wall in his storage room. Son, what I saw was mad crazy. Tony got stash of money stacked up in his secret cache. In unison form, Kurrency and I began to fill the duffy bags up in haste. We filled the duffy bags up till there was no money left in the cache. Son, I couldn’t believe my eyesight. Jack move was easy as I had thought. Before we left Tony’s mansion, we tied his ass up and then dashed out with the duffy bags.

CHAPTER SEVEN

One Shot, One kill

From all of the five women he’d pimped, Dino’s father, Bernard King, didn’t have any favorites, but he ired his bottom bitch, Ms. Tisha Wright a.k.a. Sexy Diamond. She was the oldest and smartest among the other women Dino’s father pimped. Her body features and her tight pussy held more tricks out for their paycheck. Every week, Sexy Diamond brought in about twenty-five hundred to the table. She also made sure that she deposited twenty dollars into her savings from the money that Dino’s father gave her to fix herself up for her tricks. When Dino’s father died, Sexy Diamond felt like her heart was gone to the grave with Dino’s father. The bond that both of them had, from the ups and downs, wasn’t him being her pimp. She loved that black-ass nigga till death. One thing that Sexy Diamond wouldn’t forget was how Dino’s father would school her about tricking. And how she had gotten her ass beaten up several times whenever she messed up with his money and whenever she had charged her tricks for less money than her usual fees. But above that, Sexy Diamond ed how Dino’s father would treat her and the other women he had pimped like icey on a cake. He made sure that they were well fed and wore designer clothes and accessories. Like corn chips in a bag, Dino’s father always wanted his ladies to outshine the rest of the women his friends were pimping. As these memories ran through Sexy Diamond’s mind, she smiled and said, “This is for you, Bernard.” She blew a kiss in the air before she finally set her mind back to reality. Four years later, after Dino’s father had died, Sexy Diamond managed to open a beauty salon with the money that she had saved up. As time went on, Sexy Diamond stopped hoeing to focus on her business. The only woman that Dino trusted was Sexy Diamond. After the death of his father, Sexy Diamond and Dino’s relationship became tighter. She was like a mother to him. Dino would kill and die for her. She’s the only person that Dino had after his father had died. His biological mother had died when he was three years old, and the only person in his life is Sexy Diamond.

One Friday night, after Sexy Diamond had returned from attending to one of her rich clients, she dozed off on the couch. She was exhausted and dormanted. When her phone rang, she was startled and then ignored the caller. Five minutes later, the frightening bang on her door woke her up. Terrified with fear, she crossed her arms across her chest as she walked toward the door. “Who is it?” she asked politely. It was Dino on the other side of the door. “Open up, Mom. It’s me, Dino,” Dino said. “Dino,” Sexy Diamond shot back as she began to open the door, afraid that something might have happened to Dino. “Son, are you okay?” she asked as Dino walked in with two duffy bags filled with money. “I’m okay, Mom,” Dino said. “I’m sorry to wake you up,” Dino added as he sat down on the couch. “It’s okay, baby, do you want me to get you something to drink?” Sexy diamond asked as she took a seat beside Dino. “I’m okay, Mom. I just want you to hold this down for me,” Dino said as he began to open the duffy bags filled with stacks of money. “Ooh my god, son, where . . . ooh my god,” Sexy Diamond exclaimed as she closed her mouth with her hands. “Son, where did you get all this money from?” Sexy Diamond added. She felt she was dreaming, but in the actual sense, she knew she was not. “Mom, could you please get me something to drink,” Dino said just to ignore her question. The money inside the duffy bags was Dino’s split from the money they had gotten from Tony Mullunni. Regaining her seat, Sexy Diamond handled a glass of fresh orange juice to Dino and said, “How much money do you have in those bags?” Dino glanced at her and replied, “Three point five million.” “Three point five what?” Sexy Diamond said as her eyes widened. At that moment, Dino’s cell phone began to ring. He knew who the caller was. It

was Moon on the other end of the phone. Flipping the top of his cell phone, he said, “Talk to me, boss.” “Yeah, nigga, where is my money at?” Moon said with a hostile voice. “Yo chill out, bruh, I got you. Where do you want me to meet you at?” Dino replied with a gush feeling that Moon thought he was playing games with his split of the money they had gotten from Tony Mullunni. “Meet me at the Lenox Mall in thirty minutes. Don’t be late,” Moon said and then hung up on Dino. When Sexy Diamond noticed the look on Dino’s face, she knew that something was wrong. The sudden change of reaction that flagged Dino’s attitude at that moment made her heart beat heavily. Without hesitation, Dino grabbed his car keys and then stood up. Sexy Diamond knew Dino possessed the same character that his father had when something had gone wrong. She could dictate that personality at Dino. At once, she stood and said, “Son, is there any problem?” she asked smoothly with a calm voice. “Naw, I just need to drop off something real quick as fast as I can,” Dino replied as he began to motion toward the door. “Son, I’m coming with you,” Sexy Diamond said as she began to motion toward Dino. She felt the need to know what had gone wrong, even though Dino wouldn’t tell her. “I’m coming with you,” she shot back at Dino with the same attitude she always put on whenever she wanted to put her life in danger for Dino’s father. “Naw, Mom. I’ll be okay. Just keep the money safe until I return,” Dino said as he walked out the door.

* * *

Son, about an hour and a half, after Dino and Kurrency had dropped me off at the crib, Uncle Mike and I sat down in the living room and started kicking it like a ma’fucker. The 3.5 million I had gotten from the jack move was on the living room table as Uncle Mike and I began to smoke some phat-ass blunt of weed. While we drank a bottle of Hennessy, I’ve never seen Uncle Mike amped up and happy like the way he was acting. He made several jokes, and we both laughed

at it. On some real shit, I was loving the vibe as we kick it. Uncle Mike was really funny. The atmosphere was tranquil the whole time we were chilling and smoking the phat-ass blunt of weed. Na’mean. By the time we had finished blazing the phat-ass blunt of weed, I had told Uncle Mike about the jack move. He respected our moves and then told me two things: never let your right hand know what your left hand does, and always make sure that you wear gloves when you commit a crime. About forty-five minutes later, Uncle Mike and I started to put the loot back into the duffy bags. At that moment, Uncle told me he would find a way to clean the money up through a realtor. When we had finished putting the money back into the duffy bags, we took the loot downstairs to where Uncle Mike’s secret cache was located at the basement. When we got there, Uncle Mike began to unscrew a silver sink in the basement restroom. “This is what I call the hole in the elephant’s ass,” Uncle Mike joked, and we both laughed. At that moment, we were still high like how Bob Marley would get high before he stepped onto the stage and deliver his Jamaican-rhythm songs. Na’mean. After Uncle Mike had finished unscrewing the silver sink, he removed it off from the wall. The silver sink was just hiding a broad hole on the wall. A broad hole fit enough to hide the loot. It took us about twenty minutes to stack up the loot in Uncle Mike’s secret cache. After we had finished, we took out thirty thousand dollars a piece before Uncle Mike screwed back the silver sink to conceal the loot. In my mind, I knew the loot was properly safe in there until Uncle Mike decided to clean it up like he had said, na’mean. Finally, as we began to walk back upstairs, my cell phone began to ring. It was Dino on the other side of the phone. Once I had flipped the flap of my cell phone, I hit the talk button and said, “Son, hold on for a minute.” “Aight, bruh,” Dino replied. At that moment, Uncle Mike had walked ed me in a hurry to step into his room. I knew that once he had stepped in his room, he wouldn’t come back out to the living room for the rest of the night. “Yo, Unc—” I paused as I waved a blunt of optimum in the air. “uncle I’m about to roll the last blunt. dont quit on me.” I added. Uncle Mike is a god in his own ways, and I like to smoke and just kick it with him because he always got something knowledgeable to say to me. “Naw, it’s past my bedtime. See you when I wake up tomorrow morning,” Uncle Mike replied as he stepped into his room.

When I came back to the phone, I asked Dino what the move was. He replied, “Bruh, ain’t nothing. I’m cooling. Meet me at Justin’s Restaurant at Buckhead.” “Aight, son. I’ll be there. Give me about twenty minutes,” I said as I glanced at my watch. It was 1:45 a.m. at the dot. “Aight, bruh, peace,” Dino said. “One,” I said and then hung up. Ten minutes later, I was on my way to Justin’s with Uncle Mike’s ride. I knew I had to come back to the crib on time before he wakes up. That shit reminds me I had to cop myself a nice ride because I don’t want to be riding around the hood with Uncle Mike’s car. I’m a rich ma’fucker bitch. Y’all gonna feel me soon, I said in my mind as I dialed my partner G. Baby’s phone. His phone rang four times and then went straight to voice message. I hung up and redialed his number. “Hello,” a female voice said. “Yeah, can I speak to G. Baby?” I said as I lit up a cigarette. “Yo, who is this calling?” she said briskly. “Yo, this is the boss,” I said as I let out smoke through my nostril. “The boss?” she shot back at me. “Yeah, the boss. His partner, Sorrow,” I responded. “Hold on,” she said with a little hiss. When G. Baby came to the phone, he was excited like a ma’fucker. We had not talked to each other since I had left New York. “Son, what’s the move. Yo! I’ve been trying to call you word up,” G. Baby said. “Son, I told you the next time you’ll hear from me, I would be caked up with mad loot,” I said with a remark. G. Baby and I had promised one other that whoever made it first would look out for the other.

“Son, niggas around here ain’t eating word up. I’m down like a ma’fucker, na’mean. Shit be going sideways since you had left word to the motha,” G. Baby said. “Word,” I shot back. “Son, niggas down here running around broke, na’mean,” G. Baby remarked. “Son, I got you. Son, you won’t believe what I’m about to tell you,” I said as I began to load G. Baby up about the jack move. When I had finished, G. Baby was amped up like a ma’fucker. “Yo! That shit is air-conditioned word up,” G. Baby said, meaning that the jack move was sweet like honey. “Son, that shit was sweeter than a Lac Truck,” I said with a smile. “Word to the motha for 3.5 million. Son, I would been rolling like bitch. Get the fuck away from me. I’m rich to the ceiling, na’mean,” G. Baby said. “Son, who was that chick that answered your phone?” I asked. At that moment, my mind drifted back to when G. Baby and I used to chase some chick around our way in Brooklyn (New York) and when they had started to act like we were some junk kid. We stole their car and then sold it to the chop shop. “Son, I just met that bitch at Jay-Z concert. Son, that bitch is a relative to some Columbia drug lord. Son, she’s about to link me with that ma’fucker word to the motha,” G. Baby said incredibly. “Son, get that cake up word up,” I said with a push. “Son, you know how the kid do, na’mean. Son, I’m about to link up with that ma’fucker ASAP. Word to the motha,” G. Baby said. “Son, hit me up when shit is all good. I got about fifteen stacks coming at you tomorrow. Just maintain with it. I know shit is about to be mad crazy for you once the jump on start with the Columbia drug lord,” I said. “Son, I’m good with what you would send to me. Appreciate you, na’mean,” G. Baby said. “Son, I will hit you up when I’m up on it, na’mean,” G. Baby added. “Son, that shit ain’t nothing. We partners, na’mean,” I said.

“Yo’ appreciate it, na’mean. One love.” “Peace G.” “Peace god,” G. Baby said as I hung up the phone. Outside the parking lot of Justin’s Restaurant owned by the Mogul (P. Diddy) Dino’s Cadillac SUV outshines the rest of the luxurious cars parked at the lot of Justin’s. Dino’s SUV Escalade definitely set the whip game on top of the Benz, Jaguars, BMWs, and Range Rovers that were parked at the lot, na’mean. I circled the parking lot twice before I finally got a space to park. Man, this spot is parked like a ma’fucker, I said in my mind as I stepped out of my ride. The cozy wind that was blowing made the atmosphere suitable. Plus the rap song by UGK, “Big Pimpin’,” blaring from Justin’s blended in properly with the cozy atmosphere. Nameable. As I stepped into Justin’s, I quickly began to set my eyes at the ladies. I stared at the attractive ones that were well dressed to impress, na’mean. Once I had started to look up ahead of the crowd, I located Dino sitting at the corner beside the door that led to the patio. He was by himself at that moment. As I walked closer to Dino, some pretty chick with pretty eyes and a flawless skin was giving me a mad eye . The guy that was sitting close to her was on the phone, talking at that moment. When I walked ed her, she smiled at me. She has a perfect smile that exposed her pretty teeth. I couldn’t resist the free beautiful smile so I smiled back at her and then nodded my head at the same time, na’mean. When I got to where Dino was, he was smiling at me when he saw me. At that moment, he had just gotten off the phone. The smile on Dino’s face pretty much gave me a clue that there was no emergency problem we got to handle right away, na’mean. As I sat down, I glanced at the table. Dino had one bottle of Moët, which he had already drunk halfway. On the table was a plate of chicken breast with salad. “Yo! Son, where Kurrency at?” I asked as Dino and I dabbed each other. “Bruh, that nigga is in love with some Caucasian broad—” Dino paused. “Caucasian pussy. You know what I’m talking about,” he added as he poured me

a glass of Moët. “Word,” I exclaim. “Yeah, some Caucasian bitch he met at the club,” Dino remarked. “So what the move is?” I asked Dino just to make sure my instinct was right when I had thought there was some emergency problem we got to handle right away. “Bruh, I had just dropped that nigga Moon with his split of the cash we got from that jack move. Bruh, that nigga acted like I was playing around with his money,” Dino said angrily. “Word,” I exclaimed. “Yeah, nigga fuck him. I gave him his money without saying a word to him.” As I listened to Dino I couldn’t keep my eyes away from the pretty chick that had given me a mad eye . “Yo, son, business is based on trust, you feel me?” I said with little understanding. “Bruh, that nigga is on some bullshit. He knows that I ain’t the type of a ma’fucker that bite the hand that feed me. You understand what I’m saying?” Dino said with a vex. As we sat in Justin’s, politicking, I let Dino do much of the talking as he talked about the R&B female bitches he would like to fuck. As Dino began to mention Janet Jackson, Brandy, Monica, and Faith Evans, in my mind, at that moment, the only thing I was thinking about was how I would fuck the pretty chick that had gave me a mad eye , na’mean. Once the guy that was sitting close to the chick that had given me a mad eye began to walk toward the bar, I kept my eyes on him when I realized he was heading to the men’s restroom. The minute he was finally out of my sight, I said to Dino, “Son, I’m about to get that chick’s number.” I pointed the beautiful lady to Dino.

“Bruh, I had noticed her checking you out,” Dino said. “Go get that number, bruh. We’re 2 Raw–2 Die Clique,” Dino added. As I stood up, I gulped my glass of Moët and then walked straight to her. I felt like I was caught up in the mix of lust at that time. “Please go away. You’re about to get me in trouble with my boyfriend,” The pretty mad chick said before I could say anything to her. “I like you but—” I interrupted her before she could finish her midsentence. “Yo, I’m not here to get you in trouble. Besides, I just wanted to let you know you need someone that would give you full divine attention. Someone that would value your beauty and take care of you,” I said smoothly. She smiled and gave me the girlish look that expressed, “Ooh, please, I’ve heard that line a million times.” “So how do you know that my boyfriend ain’t taking care of me?” she said, very irrational. “Yo, I didn’t say your boyfriend doesn’t take care of you. All I said is that you need someone that would value how beautiful you are and then take care of you. Na’mean? My name is Curtis, and you?” I lied immediately and then changed the topic. She smirked at me and said, “I’m Shawna.” “Yo, that is a beautiful name—” Before I could finish my sentence, Shawna’s boyfriend walked up to me with a mean mug. The look on Shawna’s boyfriend flagged that he was mad at me. “Huh, baby, this is my cousin, Curtis,” Shawna lied. “Bitch, why you lie? How many times have I told you to stop lying to me?” Shawna’s boyfriend snapped. At that moment I had started to laugh at Shawna’s boyfriend’s remark. At once he turned toward me and said, “Is this the piece of shit you’ve been cheating on me for?” I kept my composure ’cuz I’ve never been the ma’fucker that allows words of mouth to move me out of my square, but at the same time, I’m the ma’fucker that would peel a ma’fucker scorn off when he really gets out of line on some serious shit. “Yo, Shawna, your boyfriend is really tripping right now. I think I

need to take your ass home to make sure you be okay,” I said calmly with an attempt that Shawna’s boyfriend would give up. Instead he said, “You need to get your mind right, dude, and get the fuck outta my sight playa.” “Yo, I think you need to chill out, ma’fucker, or you’ll get your brains smashed the fuck out word up,” Dino chimed in from nowhere. “Fuck y’all. Who the fuck y’all think I am?” Shawna’s friend said. “Ooh yeah, I get it. You’re Robert De Niro, and you’re Al Pacino,” he spat as he threw up a gang sign in the air. “Yo, son, this nigga is really tripping. Son, let’s get the fuck outta here. Fall back, na’mean,” I said to Dino. I knew this was not the right place to drop Shawna’s boyfriend dead as I thought about it in my mind. I knew there were too many eyewitnesses. “Bruh, you’re right. This Motherfucker is really tripping,” Dino said as he sensed what was in my mind. As we headed to the door, Shawna and her boyfriend were behind us. When we got outside the parking lot, Shawna’s boyfriend was still yelling at Shawna. When they made it outside the lot, at that time, Dino and I walked back to where Shawna and her boyfriend were standing. In a unison form, we began mad shots at Shawna’s boyfriend. “Awe . . . awe . . . awee . . .” Shawna screamed as her boyfriend hit the ground. Without hesitation, I walked straight to Shawna and then send one shot into her head.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Up in da Club

A week and a half later, after we had smoked Shawna and her boyfriend, Dino, Kurrency, and I decided to hit the club one Saturday night. We were dressed to the fullness. Kurrency’s outfit was slamming all the way, na’mean. On his neck, he had two gold chains with 2 Raw–2 Die gold-laced medals hanging low. He was looking as fly as a ma’fucker. Speaking of Dino, he was wearing a creamtan Avirex jacket on top of a white crispy T-shirt to match with the new Air Force Two. On top of his neck was a gold chain with 2 Raw–2 Die gold-laced medals. My outfit was plain simple. I had on a black T-shirt and black jeans by Sean John. On top of my neck was a platinum chain with 2 Raw–2 Die platinumlaced medal that Kurrency and Dino had given me. On my feet, I was wearing black Timberland boots, na’mean. On our way, as we headed to Club 112 in Kurrency’s brand-new Range Rover, Dino and Kurrency began to tell me that I was like a brother to them when they had handled me the platinum chains. “Bruh, me and Kurrency had been holding it down for each other. Everything that we do, we do it like a family. We got love for each other. You know what I’m talking about. We got that love for you, Sorrow,” Dino said and then continued, “If Kurrency got beef, bruh, that beef is mine too. So whatever beef you got, Sorrow, that beef is our beef.” “Bruh, that’s what 2 Raw–2 Die means,” Kurrency chimed in as he lit up a blunt of weed. He puffed it twice and said, “This is the blunt of initiation for our official brother—Sorrow. No one comes in between us, and no one comes in between what we stand for—2R-2D.” “Fo’sho,” Dino exclaimed with a nod. After Kurrency had finished with his speech, he ed the blunt to me. “2 Raw– 2 Die, I’m on it for life,” I said as I inhaled the blunt of weed. Na’mean. Ten minutes later, we pulled into the parking lot of Club 112. The number of people outside the lot of 112 were crazy. There were a bunch of stunning females

and guys at the parking lot. Before we knew it, we began to circle around the parking lot. We were stunning harder with Kurrency’s brand-new Range Rover. As we were circling around the parking lot, we began to holla at some madlooking chicks. Every chick we talked to was digging our style while some ma’fuckers we don’t know were hating on us. But that shit didn’t fade us because we were strapped and, if a hater gets out of line, he would get laced up with slugs, na’mean. As we stepped into the club, one of the bouncers kept looking at me like he knew me. That shit got me paranoid for a minutes. At that time, I was thinking I probably look like somebody that had crossed him, na’mean. The atmosphere inside the club was cozy and lively. Everyone was enjoying themselves as the DJ blared “I’m in Love with a Stripper” by T. Pain. As we strolled to the bar, I noticed the rapper Young Jezzy and his partners at the VIP. They were surrounded by pretty-looking chicks. That shit was ill, na’mean. I’m not a hater ’cos I love to see ma’fuckers. When we got to the bar, some sexy dime piece chick was scooping me out. She was wearing an outfit that exposed her titties on top and a tight-skin skirt that exposed her phat-ass cheek. Above that, she was light in complexion and then fine as Halle Berry. I watched her slowly as she approached me with a cute smile. The way she walked was mad crazy. She had on stiletto high heel shoes that matched her outfit. “Hi. I’m Michelle. You look fabulous in that outfit,” Michelle said with a smile. “Thank you. I wore it just for you,” I joked and then continued, “I’m Curtis but my friends call me C,” I lied. “Ooh, really? My son’s name is Curtis. He’s five years old,” Michelle remarked. “Word,” I exclaimed with a raised brow. “So do you wanna dance?” Michelle asked as I grabbed my drink. I nodded my head and then grabbed her hand smoothly as we headed to the dance floor. As the DJ played “More Money, More Problem” by Biggie Smalls, Michelle was whining slowly as her phat ass clued to the private area of my hard dick. At that moment, Dino and Kurrency were beside me, doing their thing with two fine-ass chicks on the dance floor.

“So, Curtis, what do you do?” Michelle asked as she rotated her sexy hips. I hesitated for a minute because she was asking me something I felt uncomfortable with. Plus I had just met her not more than five minutes, na’mean. “I’m a street nigga,” I finally replied. “Uhmm . . . that’s sexy. You mean a street pharmacy?” Michelle pushed. “Yeah, you could say that,” I shot back. “I like your chain. It’s beautiful,” Michelle said as she turned to face me. “Thanks. I like it too,” I responded with a brag. At that moment, the bouncer that was looking at me when we first stepped into the club approached me and said, “Yo, take your hat off. Fitted hats are not allowed in the club.” I ignored him and then wrapped my arms across Michelle. That shit had him mad as hell. “Yo, dude, I said take your hat off or—” Before he could finish his sentence, I interrupted him and said, “Son, you ain’t gonna do a damn thang word to the motha.” When Michelle sensed the rage between me and the bouncer, she asked, “What’s going on, baby?” Without hesitation, I replied, “Yo, ain’t nothing going on. Just keep doing your thang, mummy.” At that time, I felt like the bouncer was pushing my button. I felt my demeanor escalating out of its shell. I felt the feel that money brings—more money, more problems, na’mean. As I kept ignoring the bouncer each time he said something to me, for some reason, I got tired of him stroking me on my back. So I turned around and punched him hard in his eye. He grunted and then rushed me down to the floor. Soon as I hit the floor, I kicked him in his right knee with my right leg. He fell right toward me. Before I knew it, Dino and Kurrency jumped right in and then started punching the bouncer viciously in his face. At that moment, the DJ had stopped the music and the club lights were on. “This is crazy right now. This is how it goes down every Saturday night at Club 112,” the DJ said and then continued, “Bouncers, where y’all at? Y’all break this ma’fucker up, and let’s start this ma’fucker crank Club 112. Y’all motherfuckers know how it goes down.” At that time, five built, muscular bouncers were struggling with us as they tried to throw us out of the club. They kept struggling for about five minutes. When they got tired, we walked out of the club like a

champ. As we were heading to the car, Michelle and the two chicks that were dancing with Dino and Kurrency were behind us. One of the chicks that Kurrency was dancing with said, “Why are y’all leaving without us?” I laughed at her remarked and then brushed Kurrency on his shoulder. “Yo, were y’all wanna go?” Kurrency asked. “We wanna go where y’all going,” Michelle said as she walked closer to me and crossed her arms around my waist. After we had decided on what to do at the parking lot, we pulled out, out of Club 112, and then headed toward Sandy Springs, Southwest of Atlanta. Michelle was riding in her Honda Accord, and the two chicks Dino and Kurrency were dancing with at the club were in a black Chevy Blazer as we headed to Motel Six on Sandy Springs. On our way, we pulled at the QuikTrip to get some condoms and a pack of optimum blunt. As soon as we were about to step into QuikTrip, Dino flinched lightly like he had forgotten something. “Yo. Sorrow, my bad. Bruh, this is Kelly and Keris,” Dino said as he introduced the two chicks that were dancing with him and Kurrency. “Bruh, Dino had forgotten something. Kelly and Keris are twins,” Kurrency chimed in with a joke. Kelly and Keri laughed mildly, exposing a perfect set of teeth. Kelly and Keri looked like gospel singers (Mary Mary). In my mind, I cursed myself for not letting Dino and Kurrency know that I had told Michelle that my name was Curtis. I overlooked it immediately when I had noticed that Michelle was not paying attention, na’mean. After I had finished introducing myself to Kelly and Keri, Michelle and I walked toward the drink section. She was all over me like glue. When we got to the drink section, I grabbed me two energy Red Bulls, while Michelle grabbed a bottle of Sunny Delight orange juice and a pack of Jolly Rancher Candy. By the time we made it to the cashier, Dino and Kurrency had bought the pack of optimum blunt and condoms. Na’mean. As soon as we walked outside, I bumped unto Esha and Tiffany. They had just gotten off from a car with two guys. I hadn’t talk to Esha since the last time we met. I knew she had a boyfriend, and I didn’t want her to start having emotional feelings for me ’cos I wasn’t ready for that shit, na’mean. I wanted to get my priority straight first. When I had first moved to Atlanta.

“Hey, Sorrow,” Esha said with a sultry voice as the guy that was with her kept walking. At that moment, Tiffany waved her hand at me and kept walking with the other guy. “Yo, Michelle, go in the car. I need a minute by myself, aight?” I said. “Aight, baby. Don’t stay too long,” Michelle replied and kissed me on the cheek. “So what’s all that baby all about?” Esha said with an emotional feeling. “Yo, Esha, don’t even go over there,” I spat. “So why haven’t you called me?” Esha said as she stared at my eyes. “Yo, you got school before me and you know how the kid do. I don’t want to bother you ’cuz I want the best for you, na’mean,” I lied. “You’re not doing me a favor for not calling me,” Esha shot back at me with a smirk. “Yo, I’ll get at you tomorrow night,” I said. “Aight. Don’t lie to me ’cuz I will be expecting your phone call. So how is your uncle doing?” Esha said. “Yo, he’s fine. Look, Esha, I gotta keep pushing. I’ll hit you up tomorrow night,” I said as I hugged Esha. “Aight, take care of yourself, and tell that bitch to stop that name-calling,” Esha said. I laughed and then said, “Yo, I got you.” I knew Esha was catching an emotional feeling, but one thing she didn’t know was that the street is my girlfriend, na’mean. About ten minutes later, after we had left the QuikTrip gas station, we pulled into Motel Six on Sandy Spring. It took us about three minutes to get the rooms we wanted. On the way to our room, Dino and Kurrency gave me the look that expressed the swap and slide move, meaning that three of us would fuck all three of the chicks by taking turns, na’mean.

I stepped into my room with Michelle and then sat on the cozy bed. Michelle sat close to me and began to undo her clothes. At that moment, I had set my mind up that I would smoke a phat-ass blunt of weed and then fuck the shit out of Michelle. As that thought ran through my mind, I picked the blunt of optimum and then burst it wide open to get rid of the tobacco inside. Once I had finished, getting rid of the tobacco, I began to break the weed down. “Yo, Michelle, do you blaze?” I asked Michelle as she stood in front of the mirror, iring her body curves. “Yep,” Michelle replied. “I don’t smoke cigarette. I’m a weedhead,” Michelle added as she caressed her titties. After I had finished rolling the blunt of weed, I lit it up and then took about three hits to the head before I ed it to Michelle. Michelle took a nice drag and then blew the weed smokes in the air, and it formed a circle of rings. As Michelle and I kept rotating the blunt of weed, I had taken off my pants and then started to drink the two cans of Red Bull. By the time we had finished smoking the blunt of weed, I was high as a ma’fucker. Michelle’s titties were enticing to my eyes. Just as I was about to say something to Michelle, Michelle looked straight to my eyes and said, “Do you like what you see?” I nodded my head and said, “Yo, your titties looks good, na’mean.” Michelle smiled and said, “They’re real. One hundred percent real, baby.” She pushed her breast in an upward motion and then began to lick her hard nipples. “Uhum . . . uhum,” Michelle added seductively as she stepped toward me and knelt down slowly. She pulled my boxers down to my knee and then began to massage my hard dick with a gushed ion. “Baby, I forget my Jolly Rancher in the car. I want to suck your dick with my favorite colors,” Michelle said as she stood up at once and then threw my T-shirt on top of her to cover her gorgeous body. Without hesitation, she headed to her car. I couldn’t wait to fuck the shit out of Michelle as she walked outside. As soon as I began to think what I would do to Michelle’s phat and soft ass, Michelle walked in with the pack of Jolly Rancher she had left in the car. “I’m sorry, baby. Come here, let me suck that big ol’ dick,” Michelle said as she knelt down and began to suck my dick with two Jolly Ranchers in her mouth. Michelle’s blow job was on top of the roof. That shit is awesome, na’mean. The feeling I was

receiving as Michelle sucked my dick sent my brains straight to heaven. Slowly and steadily, I began to place my both hands on top of Michelle’s head as her soft tender lips got me flinching. At that moment, my eyes were closed. I was close to cum into her mouth when I heard, “Bitch ass nigga,” some guy say in a deep voice. I opened my eyes quickly. “Bitch nigga, you know what it is,” one of the guys said as he pointed his burner at me. His partner grabbed my pants and retrieved the three thousand stack in my pocket. At that moment, Michelle had left the room. “Yo, son, y’all got me, na’mean?” I said as I glanced at my burner on the corner of the floor. “Shut the fuck up, and don’t even think about it nigga,” the guy pointing his burner at me said as he read my mind. “Yo, son, ooh, I get it, you from New York and you love big chains. I tell you what, that chain on your neck is my now,” he added as the first slug from his burner hit me in the stomach. Bang, bang . . . bang. Immediately I was blacked out as he began to send slugs that ripped through my body drastically. Right at that moment, I heard two voices speaking directing to each other while I was blacked out physically. One of the voices spoke from a clear cloud and said, “I’ve the final saying for his life. The body you could obstruct but the soul you cannot. Today I would let him live and you would see to yourself,” the second voice replied from a dark cloud. “If you let him live, I would make him more ruthless to do my will—evil.”

CHAPTER NINE

Pain is Love

I was in the intensive care unit (ICU) for about a week and a half. After the doctor had removed the six bullets that had ripped through my flesh, my whole body was sedated as I lay on the bed with tubes encircling my arms, hooking me to an IV bag and to various monitors, as a clear oxygen tube threaded under my nose. As I slowly began to open my eyes, I glanced at the flowers, the “get well” cards, and the teddy bears that Esha, Tiffany, Kelly, and Keri brought for me. The words on one of the massive bear toy caught my full attention. It says, “Get well, baby. You’re truly loved. I missed you. From your girl, Esha.” After I had read those words, I was caught up in a mix of deep thought. During that moment, I asked myself several questions concerning Esha and then said to myself that I’m sticking with Esha. I knew I hadn’t fucked her yet and that shit felt like this is going to be the best time to get closer to her. The words that Esha wrote on the teddy bear made me realize that pain is love. As I continued to think about Esha, a black female nurse interrupted my thought process and said, “Hey, Jacob, how are you doing today? My name is Mrs. Wood. I would be the one taking over Nurse Philips’s duty. She had gone to vacation.” Mrs. Wood’s voice was pleasant and sweet like the early morning birds’ sound. “I’m doing just fine,” I replied. “Dr. Wesley said that you would be ready to go by next week. I thank God for your health,” Mrs. Wood said as she patted me lightly on my shoulder. Mrs. Wood’s conversation was short before she departed. One week and a half later, I was discharged from the hospital. Uncle Mike, Dino, and Kurrency drove down to pick me up in Kurrency’s Range Rover. When we got to the crib, I kicked it with Dino and Kurrency before they bounced out. They didn’t stay too long because they were about to take care of business with Moon before they came to pick me up at the hospital, na’mean

At 3:05 p.m., after I had waken up from sleep, I was surprised to see Esha and Tiffany at the crib, chilling with Uncle Mike in the living room. “Hey, baby,” Esha said with a sultry voice as she motioned toward me and gave me a hug. “What’s up, Sorrow?” Tiffany said as she stood up and then sat close to Uncle Mike. “What’s up, Tiffany?” I replied. “What time y’all got here,” I added. “Huh, around three,” Tiffany said. In my mind I was wondering what type of game Tiffany and Esha were playing as they popped up to the crib from nowhere. Na’mean. I knew Uncle Mike was trying to get at Tiffany, but for some reason, I was hoping that Uncle Mike don’t get tied up with Tiffany’s games. I knew she was seeing some guy, and that shit is foul if I don’t let Uncle Mike know about it, na’mean. About thirty minutes later, Uncle Mike and Tiffany grew tired of kicking it in the living room with me and Esha, so they stepped into the room. “So what do you want to do?” Esha asked as she gulped the last drink in her glass. She was a little bit tipsy. “Yo, I’m about to smoke me a nice blunt of weed and then fuck the shit outta you,” I replied with a smile. “You’re so silly. That shit turns me on,” Esha said as she bit her bottom lips with a gush ion. “Yo, do you still blaze?” I asked as I began to roll a blunt of weed. “Naw, baby. I quit it couple of months ago,” Esha responded as she headed to my bedroom. “Aight, that’s cool with me because I was about to tell you you gotta pay to smoke with me,” I said with a joke. Esha laughed out loud and then threw a kiss in the air as she motioned to step into my bedroom, na’mean.

The minutes that Esha stepped into my bedroom, she inserted my favorite reggae artist, Sean Paul, and then skipped to my favorite track (“Give Me Light”). At that moment, I walked into my room with the blunt of weed in my mouth. When I got to my room, I sat on my bed close to Esha. “This weed is loud, na’mean,” I said as I positioned myself to give Esha a shotgun through her nose. “Yeah, that’s how you get it straight to your head,” I said crisply as Esha inhaled the blunt smoke straight into her head and then blow it out through her mouth like a pro, na’mean. “That was a nice hit,” Esha said as her eyes widened. “Yo, I thought you said you had quit?” I remarked. “Yeah, you made me relapse,” Esha shot back with a smile and then whispered into my ears, “I want you to fuck me when you’re high.” Slowly she began to caress my hard dick with a gush ion. “Damn, you’re huge,” she exclaimed with a raised brow. I smiled at Esha’s comment and said, “Yo, don’t you think it has been a while since you had seen it?” “Yeah, you’re right. It has been a while, and the good thing is that I’m back again. So why don’t you give it to me this time? I want it in my pussy,” Esha said with a sultry voice as she began to pull my pants down my knees. Once she had finally gotten my pants down my knees, she began to suck my dick in a rhythmic manner and then started throbbing it with the tip of her tongue while she licked it. At that moment, she used her other hand to massage my nut sack, na’mean. After Esha had finished giving me a mean blow job, she began to undress herself in haste. As I watched her undo herself, I slowly began to take my shirt off. After Esha had finished undressing herself, she positioned her legs in a doggy style and said, “I want it from the back first.” She bounced her phat ass at me, indulging me to come after it. As soon as I began to penetrate into Esha’s pussy from the back, I grabbed her phat ass and spread her left ass cheek in an upward positioned. I concentrated in one position as my dick searched for her G-spot. “Damn, baby, you got it going on,” Esha said and then slowly began to moan. I stroked her heavily until she started to beg me to stop. At that moment, the intertwined feeling began to make Esha scream my name. “Uhum . . . yes, yes,

I’m cumming,” Esha moaned as her cum began to drip down her thighs. Without hesitation, I flipped Esha to a scissor position and then began to stroke her vigorously until she began to cry. During that moment, Esha’s phat ass was bouncing up and down. “Yo, who owns this pussy, huh?” I said as I squeezed Esha’s ass cheek in a rough manner. “It is you, baby. I swear, it is you. Nobody else,” Esha said with a sadistic pain. Finally, when I had started to bone Esha in a missionary position, I felt like my sex drive had escalated to the top of the roof. I was going hard and harder, hitting every spot of Esha’s wet pussy. “Yes . . . awe . . .” I groaned when I felt like I was cumming. “Yes, baby, I want you to cum inside me,” Esha said as she wrapped her legs across my midsection. She scratched my back as I stroke her fiercely.

CHAPTER TEN

Back 2 Da Game

Ten months later, my body was recuperating from the bullet wounds. I was beginning to gain a lot of weight. I drank a lot of water and then do a lot of pushups and squads in the mornings, na’mean. One Monday evening, as I was sitting in the living room, watching 106 & Park on BET, Dino called me and told me that his man, Moon, and his grimmy-ass bitch, Gina, were found dead. Their arms and legs were missing when the police found their bodies in a body bag. I had to convince Dino that the Italian guy we jack moved had to be the one that order some killers to smoke Moon and Gina. When Dino began to doubt me, I told him to go watch the mob (mafia) movies and see for himself that the mafias are the ones that cut the arms and the legs of a ma’fucker to send a message to their rivals, na’mean. Before me and Dino decided on what to do, we called Kurrency on two ways and told him what we thought about Moon’s and Gina’s murders. As we spoke on the phone with Kurrency, I told Dino and Kurrency that we needed to smoke the Italian guys we jack moved before he sent his goons at us. But Dino suggested that since we were on top of the game, getting major money, we are too hot to be doing anything that would get us fucked up. So he suggested he would use some guy named Jamaica Major to kill the Italian guy. At that moment, I respected what Dino said getting major money, but I wasn’t feeling his decision to use Jamaica Major to handle our business because if he fails, during the process and the cops get on his ass, that could bring us down, na’mean. After Kurrency had hung up, Dino and I continued to talked on the phone. At that moment, Dino had switched up our conversation to some guy named Knowledge. He told me that he and Kurrency met Knowledge at the time they were about to sell the two keys of dope they had gotten from a jack move. And it turns out that the dopes belonged to Knowledge, who was buying the dope from them, na’mean.

When Dino had finished telling me about Knowledge and some chick name Gloria. I asked him how Knowledge knew that the dopes were his dope. Dino’s reply was that Knowledge is a big time drug dealer in Atlanta. He owns a drug empire, and majority of his dopes are all wrapped up in red and black colors, which means that nobody in Atlanta has that colors but him, na’mean. As Dino began to explain everything that went down at the motel when they were about to sell the dope to Knowledge, he mentioned that the dope that they had was wrapped up in red and black colors. And that was the reason knowledge knew about it. Plus the ma’fucker that they had jacked for the two keys of dope ought to be working for Knowledge, na’mean. Finally, after Dino and I had hung up the phone. I started to think about the things that Dino had told me. Right at that moment, I knew I had to be more careful and dangerous because I do not know who Dino and Kurrency had crossed out there on the street, na’mean. On Tuesday morning, the following day, Uncle Mike and I went and copped a 1996 Jeep Cherokee. I was glad that I had finally got a whip. Uncle Mike suggested that I should stay on the low key, even though I could afford to pay a top-notch ride like Dino and Kurrency, na’mean. As I drove my ride out of the dealership, I was following Uncle Mike as he headed to the realtor’s company that Tiffany was working for. Before we left the crib, Uncle Mike had told me that Tiffany got a little pull with the realtor’ company that will be helping us to clean my money by buying houses. Son, that shit was crazy because I do not want Tiffany to know our business, na’mean. As I was enjoying my ride, my cell phone began to ring. It was my partner, G. Baby, on the other side of the phone. “What’s up, son?” I said with a smile. “Yo, what’s up, son?” G. Baby shot back at me and then continued, “Son, I’m telling you, that nigga is dead. Son I smoked his ass up word to the motha.” I could tell when G. Baby is happy than a ma’fucker, na’mean. “Son, who the fuck are you talking about?” I asked. “Son, that goat-eating ass ma’fucker on Fourteenth Street,” G. Baby said. “Son, you the Dominican kid named Lansky?” G. Baby added.

“Son, I that ma’fucker. You mean that slamming ass nigga that always post up on Fourteenth Street?” I said. “Yeah, son, I put six in his chest the other day, na’mean,” G. Baby remarked. “Son, the Columbian drug lord found out that I know the kid. So he asked me to smoke his ass for owning him, na’mean. Son, for half a brick, you know how I get down, na’mean. I smoked his ass ASAP. Fuck that nigga. You feel me?” G. Baby added. “Son, I feel you, na’mean,” I said. “Son, you got to do what you got to do, na’mean,” I added. “Son, I got that bread you had sent to me. I appreciate that, partner,” G. Baby said. “Son, you know how we do. It is nothing you feel me,” I said. “Son, I would get at you later. I’m about to handle some business na’mean,” I added. “Aight, son. Peace,” G. Baby said. “Peace,” I said and then hung up the phone. Two minutes later, Uncle Mike pulled into the realtor’s company parking lot. I pulled in beside him and then stepped out of the car while he was still in his ride, na’mean. When Uncle Mike finally stepped out of the car, we walked straight into the building through the glass-door entrance. A phat chubby white lady greeted us as we made it inside the service area. Her name was Mrs. Porter. “Please have a seat,” Mrs. Porter said after we had told her who we were there to see, na’mean. I watched Mrs. Porter picked up the phone handset and then speed dialed some numbers. By the time she had sat the phone hand set down, Tiffany walked out from her office. She was looking sexy and beautiful. She wore a black pant suit and a blouse. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail style and her lips were gleaming for a kiss, na’mean. “Hey, baby . . .” Tiffany said with a smile as she motioned to embrace Uncle Mike. She hugged Uncle Mike firmly and then kissed him. At that moment, Mrs. Porter cleared her throat and said, “Okay, y’all.” “Ooh, my bad, Mrs. Porter. This

is my—” Before Tiffany could finish her midsentence, Mrs. Porter interrupted her and said, “Baby girl, you don’t have to be sorry. I want you to be happy. Now go into your office before Mrs. Tony walks in and see y’all like that. You know how she is, girl.” “Yeah, I know how she is, Mrs. Porter, and I can’t wait for her to kiss my black ass when I move to the new office,” Tiffany spat defensively as she led us into her office, na’mean. For some reason, I noticed that Tiffany didn’t acknowledge my presence. I just felt that she had let her pregnancy get into her head. Even though Uncle Mike didn’t tell me That Tiffany was pregnant by him, that shit was fucked ’cos I could see it through a mile, na’mean. After I had finished g the documents that said I was co-g for the houses Uncle Mike was about to buy, I stood up and told Uncle Mike that I would catch up with him at the crib. “Bye, bye, Sorrow,” Tiffany said as I headed toward the door of her office. On my way out of the realtor building, my cell phone began to ring. It was Dino on the other end of the phone. “What’s up, son? Where y’all nigga at?” I said as I walked close to my ride. “Yo, we are—” Dino paused and then started to laugh. “Yo, son, what’s so funny?” I asked. “Son, why are you laughing like you got something on your chin?” I added with a joke. “Naw, bruh, I’m aight. I’m just laughing at Kurrency when he was cursing some guy who had made his double cheese without the cheese,” Dino remarked. “Word, where y’all niggas at?” I asked again as I hopped into my ride. “Shit, where we at, Kurrency?” Dino said with a joke as he kept laughing. I knew he was playing with my head mentally. “Fuck you, son,” I spat. “Bruh, we are chilling at the Wendy’s on Bankhead,” Dino finally answered my question. “Bruh, you need to catch up with us around 6:00 p.m. At the QuikTrip on Pleasant Hill,” Dino added.

“Son, what’s the move?” I asked as I checked for the time. It was about 4:35 p.m. “Yo, do you that nigga Knowledge I told you about?” Dino said and then paused. “Yo, what about him?” I asked in an elated mood. “We fixing to check on him to see what he talking about,” Dino said. At that moment, I could sense it must be something good. “Aight, son. I’ll there at 6:00 p.m.” About one hour and a half after I had copped some brand-new fitted hats and CDs at Lenox Mall, I headed straight to the QuikTrip to link up with my partners as Nas’s “One Mic” blared out of my ride, na’mean. At exactly 6:00 p.m., I was at QuikTrip. Dino and Kurrency were in a red Lincoln Navigator waiting on me as I pulled into QuikTrip. “What’s up, son?” I said to Dino as we dabbed each other. “Yo, what’s good?” Dino shot at me. “Son, ain’t nothing,” I replied as I dabbed Kurrency. “Bruh, you when I had told you that Knowledge tried to offer me and Kurrency a job after we had sold the two keys to him?” Dino remarked. “Bruh, shit fixing to pop up good,” Kurrency chimed in as Dino began to explained the whole link up. He told me that since Moon is dead, he doesn’t have any serious connection to keep our meals coming. So he wanted us to check on Knowledge to keep our meals coming na’mean. On our way to meet Knowledge, I pulled out a nice blunt of weed and then sparked it up. Since I was riding in my ride, I had the time by myself to recollect my thought process about working for Knowledge, na’mean. At 6:30 p.m., we were at Knowledge’s massive gate, waiting for the security to let us in. We were not the only ones waiting to get in into Knowledge’s massive

mansion. There were about fifteen cars on the line as we waited. My whip was the only ride at the line that was less expensive. Everyone else’s on the line, including Dino and Kurrency, was riding a top-notch ride. As I thought about that, right away I knew Knowledge was larger than life. The number of cars on the line and the number of cars inside of Knowledge’s massive mansion flagged that he’s a man that enjoyed the finest things of life, na’mean. At last, we finally walked in into Knowledge’s massive mansion. The whole place was shining like gold and diamond. The bar at the basement was not just a bar. It looks like a liquor store. The chandelier lights that hung on the custom ceiling shone very brightly with beautiful colors. Na’mean. “Bruh, this mother-fucker is parked,” Dino said as we walked toward the bar. “Yeah, man. This mother-fucker is off the chain,” Kurrency spat. “Son, look at this shit here. I can’t believe we are in this ma’fucker with expresident Jimmy Carter.” I pointed at Jimmy Carter. “Bruh, Knowledge got nothing but rich white folks in here. You know what I’m talking about,” Kurrency said. As we sat at the bar, at that time, I could not wait to see knowledge. I’ve never met him, and he was nowhere to be found at his party. “Son, fuck that nigga Knowledge,” I said with a vex, as I grew tired of waiting for knowledge. “Bruh, you know how it goes. Ma’fucker with money got a lot of egos, and they want you to chase them around. You know what I’m talking about,” Dino said. “It’s all good. We just gotta chase him until he can’t run no more,” Dino added with a joke. As we continued to chill at the bar, gulping our drinks down like there’s no tomorrow, some sexy female approached us. She introduced herself as Ms. Gloria. “How y’all doing?” she said with a smile as she shook my hand. “Nice to meet you, Ms. Gloria. I’m Sorrow,” I said crisply. At that moment, Dino and Kurrency were looking at Gloria like they were about to beat the shit out of her. “Okay, Dino and Kurrency, y’all need to get that evil look out y’all minds. What happened within us is over,” Ms. Gloria said. “Anyway, I’m here to let you guys

know that Knowledge is aware that you guys are here. He’s very busy with a client, but he would love to meet you guys at this address,” Ms. Gloria added as she retrieved a business card and then handed it to Dino. “Aight, Ms. Gloria, we ’preciate your effort to stop by. There’s no love lost,” Dino said and then continued, “We understand that Knowledge is very busy with a client. Could you let him know that we will be at the address as requested?” “Ooh yes, I would be glad to do that. By the way, are you guys enjoying yourselves?” Ms. Gloria said. “Ooh yeah. It is an honor to be here. We are definitely enjoying ourselves,” Dino replied. “Okay, guys, I will be seeing y’all sometime,” Ms. Gloria said as she walked off. “So what y’all niggas fixing to do?” Dino asked as he gulped his glass of champagne.” “Shiit, get down with this white rich folks in here,” Kurrency said at once. “Son, was that the bitch—Gloria you told me about?” I asked Dino. “Yeah, that was her. She’s grimmy as hell. Don’t let her appearance fool you, bruh,” Dino said. “Yo, son, I see why she was looking at Kurrency like ‘Nigga, yeah, this is me.’ You understand what I’m saying?” I said. “Bruh, that bitch pulled out her 9 mm burner at me like Keisha of New Jack City,” Dino remarked. “Rock a bye, baby,” Kurrency chimed in, and then we started laughing. “Yo, on some real shit, that bitch is deep in the game with Knowledge,” Kurrency added. As we decided to kick it a while at Knowledge’s cocktail party, the only thing that I couldn’t get rid off in my mind was Knowledge’s sumptuous and extravagant ways of living life to the fullness, na’mean. By the time we had started to kick it with Knowledge’s official guests, I noticed a beautiful white lady standing with two of her associates at the far end of the bar. She was staring

at me with a smile. Her beautiful hazel eyes were so attractive that I felt like I was losing my swagger. In a blink of an eye, I began to move toward her. By the time I got closer to her, the two white women that were with her had left. “Excuse me, I’m—” Before I could finish my sentence, two muscular white guys interrupted me and said, “Hey, hey, you,” they said in one unison form as one of them blocked me from getting closer to the white lady. “It is okay, Bryant. I want to speak to him,” the white lady said. “Thank you for rescuing me from the wolves,” I said with a joke. The white lady smiled and said, “I’m sorry. They’re my bodyguards. It is their job.” “I know . . . It is a sin if a beautiful woman like you is not protected. I’m Sorrow, and you’re?” I said crisply. “I’m Stacy McNeil,” Stacy McNeil said as we shook hands. Damn, this bitch’s hand is soft like a ma’fucker, I said in my mind after we had shaken hands, na’mean. As Stacy McNeil and I began to know each other, the diamond earrings on her ears were enticing to my eyes. The expensive diamond bracelet and watch she wore got my eyes widened. About twenty minutes later, Stacy McNeil had spilled almost everything about herself to me. She was a rich, loud, and talkative, na’mean. As I listened to Stacy McNeil attentively, she told me about her deceased rich black husband, who had died in a plane crash. “Before his tragic death, my husband owned a cable network and a commercial bank,” Stacy McNeil said as she sipped her glass of Rémy Martin. “He would make love to me all night till we’re exhausted . . . So, Sorrow, what do you do?” Stacy McNeil added. “I’m employed by the street,” I replied as I stared at Stacy McNeil’s hazel eyes. “That’s very interesting. I know what you mean, Mr. Sorrow,” Stacy McNeil said as she rolled her eyes at me. Her double D set of titties were so enticing that I couldn’t take my eyes off them. “So how old are you, Sorrow?” Stacy McNeil asked in a respectful manner and then continued, “Let me guess. You are . . . twenty-one.” I shook my head and then said, “Does age matter?” “Ooh, no, Mr. Sorrow. You’re a young-looking man. I’m forty-five years old. You know what I mean,” Stacy McNeil said with a smirk. In my mind, I knew she was flattering me, na’mean. Deep down my heart, I knew she likes to fuck young black guys. Her deceased husband was a black man, and that says a lot

about her, na’mean. As I continued to listen to Stacy McNeil’s love scandal, I couldn’t say nothing but to respect her. She was just another white pussy that loves black dick. That shit is like the saying, “When a white woman goes black, she’s never going black.” Na’mean? As Stacy McNeil and I continued to kick it, I noticed that Dino and Kurrency were nowhere to be found as I glanced around the crowd. Quickly I began to wrap up the conversation that Stacy McNeil and I were having. Before I walked out from her, she gave me her number. “Hey, you next time be little nice to a player,” I said to Stacy McNeil’s bodyguard, Bryant, because he kept looking at me the whole time I was chatting with Stacy McNeil, na’mean. When I got to the double door of Knowledge’s massive mansion, my cell phone began to ring. It was Kurrency on the end of the phone. “Son, where y’all niggas at?” I said. “Yo, Dino is fucked up,” Kurrency spat. “Fucked up?” I exclaimed with raised brows. “Yeah, that nigga had been drinking heavily. You know what I’m talking about,” Kurrency said. “Bruh, Dino had been throwing up on himself,” Kurrency added. “Word!” I exclaimed with a chuckle. “Son, you mean to tell me that Dino had been throwing up the liquor he had drunk?” I added. Finally, when I got to where Kurrency and Dino were at, Dino was in the enger seat, breathing heavily as the residue of what he had eaten sprawled on his shirt. After he had finished throwing up, “Son, you aight?” I asked as I stroke Dino lightly on the shoulder. He shook his head and then mumbled lightly. “Yo, Kurrency, we need to take Dino to the crib,” I said. “Bruh, Dino had been drinking crazy all night. I had told his ass to slow the fuck down with the damn Henny,” Kurrency remarked. “Son, he will be aight. Let’s get the fuck outta here.”

“Bruh, I had rolled a phat-ass blunt of weed. Shit, let blaze the blunt since you’re driving home by yourself,” Kurrency pushed. “Son, you know me very well that I don’t run from weed, na’mean. Word to the muther, we can blaze that shit in the car before we head back to the crip,” I said as he lit up a nice blunt of weed. “Son, you know I’m with that,” I added as I hopped into the backseat of the red Lincoln Navigator. As Kurrency and I began to blaze the blunt of weed, we talked about Knowledge’s cocktail party. Kurrency told me that the nigga that he and Dino had jack moved for the two keys was at Knowaround the ledge’s cocktail party, but he didn’t recognize them because they had a ski mask on when they jack moves him. “Son, that ma’fucker you and Dino had jack moved got to be working for Knowledge,” I said as I blew the blunt of weed smoke out through my nostril. “Bruh, that shit had finally come to the light. I believe that’s how Knowledge knew the two keys was his. Dude got to be working for Knowledge,” Kurrency said. “Yo, bruh, as long he doesn’t us, shit is gravy then. You know what I’m talking about,” Kurrency added. “Son, he doesn’t know who y’all—” Before I could finish my sentence, a white crispy GT Bentley that pulled beside us distracted my attention. “Son, that nigga Knowledge is connected worldwide, na’mean,” I said as I stared at the GT Bentley. “Yeah, man. That nigga is doing it bit big—Willie style,” Kurrency said as he ed the blunt of weed to me. “Bruh, I see you got yourself a clean ass Jeep Cherokee,” Kurrency added. In my mind, I knew Kurrency didn’t mean what he had said. My ride wasn’t that clean. “Son, I’m just taking it slow, na’mean,” I said as I hit the blunt of weed. “Y’all me the blunt of weed to me,” Dino muttered. as the white couples that drove the white bentley beside us approached us and said in one unison form

“are you guys o.k?” Dressed to the hilt, they were looking money na’mean “yes we are doing just fine” kurrency replied with a smile. “come on guys I smell the green. do you guys have any for sell” “what . . . ?” I said in an unexpected manner. “guys i’m not a cop . . . this is my lovely wife jessica. by the I’m Doctor ken” ken said politely “wow . . . ken. you’re ’bout to fuck the shit outta your wife. you know what? I got some gangsta shit for you” kurrency said briskly “ooh yeah . . . I want da gangsta shit. my wife loves to make love to me when I’m high” ken remarked “yes . . . baby. You’re superb on the be, When you’re high” jessica commented on her husband. “damn ken y’all it going on” kurrency said with a chuckle “guys I’ve been for married for 25years. do you know who was my bestfriend at my wedding?” ken said. At that moment I could pretty much tell that he was drunk. “who was your bestfriend ken?” I said to ken. “man . . . my bestfriend was weed. I love to smoke weed. you-know-what-Imean” ken joke. “Aight, Ken. This is the da gangsta shit right here. you own me $50 buck.” kurrency said as he handled a dime sack of weed to ken. “thank you buddy. I tell you what? I going to give you a $100buck. just keep the change” ken spat as he pulled out a fresh hundred bill from his wallet and then handled it to kurrency “I appreciate that ken. take it easy on your wife.” Kurrency said with a joke. As the white couple began to motion towards their ride “yo that ma’fucker ken is cool white dude na’mean” I said as I glance at my watch “cool, white rich folks. they look like they ain’t got no problem I bet you, that BENTLEY ain’t shit to them. You-know-what-I’m-about. Rich white folks with good credit” kurrency said and then continued “bruh, I see you had cop that, brand new jeep cherokee” “son, that shit ain’t nothing na’mean. Just wanted something to keep me off the radar you feel me?” I said comfortably “bruh, that whip aint bad. Atleast that motherfucker looks clean.” kurrency commented. “son, it’s aight na’mean.” I said “no, it ain’t. Bruh, that car is old. you-knowwhat-I’m-saying.2raw-2die we stay clean. take that shit back and get yourself something . . .” before Dino could finished up with his sentence, I interrupted him and said “son, shut your drunk ass up” At once me and kurrency burst out laughing. Dino mumble for a minute and said “fuck y’all niggas. 2Raw-2Die for life” “2Raw-2Die for life hommy” kurrency recited and then rubbed Dino head with brotherly love

On our way to the crib, I had to drive behind Kurrency just to make sure he wasn’t going over the speed limit. We were intoxicated, but I was under control and aware of the things I was doing, na’mean. As I followed Kurrency down to

1-285 West, I zoomed past him at once because I was pretty sure he would make it to the crib without the cop pulling him over, na’mean. I made it my business to smoke the Tony ass up because I didn’t like Dino’s idea when he had said that he would use his connection—Jamaica Major—to smoke Tony’s ass up, na’mean. I felt like Dino would be exposing our business ’cos anything could happen if Tony slipped on Jamaica Major. One thing was for sure, I know I wouldn’t tell on myself and then I couldn’t speak for the next man, na’mean. As I was heading closer to Tony’s crib, something made me look at my rearview mirror when I had noticed a black Cadillac SUV tailgating me. At that moment, the only thing in my mind was my burner. I began to stroke around the head of my burner just to make sure I have it by my side, na’mean. As the black SUV Cadillac kept approaching toward me, I began to slow down while I let my thought process to direct my crucial moves. Before I know it, the driver of the black SUV Cadillac switched lanes and then zoomed past me. At that time, when I had noticed who he was, I stepped on the accelerator and then darted after him, na’mean. Pulling into the curve after the black Cadillac SUV, right at Tony’s mansion, my eyes got heavy when I noticed Tony, the Italian guy we had jacked for his loot a few months ago, stepping out of the black Cadillac SUV. Without hesitation, I rushed after him and then let out my first shot into his head. Bang . . . bang . . . bang . . . Before I had begun to blast Tony in his stomach, the first shot took him down completely to the ground. After sending seven shots into Tony’s body, I grabbed onto the two suitcases that were inside Tony’s ride and then quickly hopped into my ride, na’mean. On my way to the crib, I began to feel delirious. My heart was beating heavily. My legs and arms were shaking constantly. I felt like I was having a nervous breakdown. But being the ma’fucker that I am, I managed to pull up at the waffle house around my way and then call Kurrency to pick me up. In my mind, I was hoping that Kurrency would make it on time to pick me up. It was just an hour and a half since I had left him and Dino on the highway. That means he might still be intoxicated, na’mean. As I was waiting for Kurrrency, I managed to open one of the suitcases. What a fuck, I said in my mind as I stroke the edges of the crispy hundred-dollar bills that were neatly stacked up in the

suitcase. “Ooh shit, one hundred thousand dollars.” This time I said it out loud as I read the money paper clip that says $100,000. In haste, I redialed Kurrency’s phone number. As soon as Kurrency came to the phone, I told him to fall back to his crib because I was able to make it to the crib from the waffle house, na’mean.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Backseat of My Jeep

The next day, Uncle Mike and I stacked up the Gwap I had gotten from Tony the previous night with the rest of my Gwap, na’mean. Later that afternoon, as I watching the news, Dino called me and told me that he was watching the news this morning and the photo of the Italian guy popped on the headline news. He said he was found dead at the front of his crib. In my mind, I didn’t want to tell Dino that I was the one who killed the Italian guy, but since Dino was my dwag, I decided to tell him before we hung up the phone. I told him how I had shot him. But for some reason, Dino was mad at me for taking the risk. He wanted to use Jamaica Major to do the killing like he had said, na’mean. Anyway, I didn’t tell him about the money in the suitcases because I was entitled to it since I did the killing by myself, na’mean. At 3:25 p.m., after I had talked to Dino, I took a nice shower before I headed to Dino’s crib. When I got there, Kurrency was at Dino’s crib, chilling with Dino, na’mean. They were playing PS2 when I walked in. “What’s up, Bruh,” Kurrency said as we gave each other a dab. “Son, what’s good?” I said to Dino. “Yo, ain’t nothing you feel me. Just whopping the shit outta Kurrency on the new madden,” Dino said as he ed the blunt of weed they were smoking before I walked in. “Yo, I’m about check out some shit at the mall, na’mean,” I said as I sat the duffy bag that was in my hand on the table. “Bruh, what do you have in that bag?” Dino asked as he pointed to the duffy bag. “Son, it is a gift,” I replied. “A gift from who?” Dino asked.

“Son, it is a gift from that Italian guy I had smoked last night,” I replied. “Son, you know how the kid do. I got two hundred G from that ma’fucker after I had smoked his ass, na’mean,” I added as I ed the blunt of weed to Kurrency. “Yo, Sorrow, you’re my nigga. That’s what I’m talking about,” Kurrency said as he snatched the duffy bag and then opened it at once. “Yo, is this for me?” Kurrency added with a joke. “Naw, nigga, it is for you and Dino fifty G a piece, na’mean. 2 Raw–2 Die, we are brothers. Y’all feel me?” I said as I stood up. “Yo, bruh, good-looking,” Kurrency said. “Bruh, are you straight?” Dino asked. “Son, what do you mean?” I shot back at Dino. “Yo, I’m just saying. I didn’t mean to check you when you had told me you was the one that smoked the Italian guy. I know how you feel about that dude. But believe me, I was at him too. I had spoken to Jamaica Major about him. You feel me, bruh?” Dino remarked. “Son, it is all good, na’mean. We’re one family,” I said as Dino and I dabbed each other. “Yo, bruh, I know you ain’t gonna believe this,” Dino said and then continued, “Yo, me and Kurrency was at the gas station this morning at Bankhead court after I had called you. Bruh, this shit I’m about to tell is crazy. Kurrency spotted your platinum chain on some guy’s neck. Yo, dude was flossing your chain to his hommy at the gas station when Kurrency spotted him.” Before Dino could finish explaining what had happened at the gas station when they saw the guy with my chain, Kurrency interrupted him and said, “Yo, the dude was driving a Crown Vic. You know what I’m talking about. We followed him to some apartment.” “Yeah, bruh, that shit was crazy,” Dino interrupted Kurrency. “Yo, that bitch that had set you up. What’s her name again, huh?” Dino paused for a second.

“Son, her name is Michelle,” I said. “Yeah, that’s her. She was standing by the door of her apartment, waiting for the guy with your chain when the guy pulled up to her apartment. Bruh, at that moment, I didn’t need to be convinced that she had something to do with the motherfuckers that had shot you at the motel,” Dino added. “Bruh, right at that moment, we knew what the deal was so we open fired as soon as Michelle was about to hug him. Yo, that shit was crazy,” Kurrency said. “Bruh, motherfuckers that were around the premises were screaming as we were busting at Michelle and the guy with your chain. It so all good, bruh. At least we got your chain back.” “Yeah, man, that bitch got shot the fuck out to death. You know what I’m talking about,” Dino said with excitement. “Word,” I exclaimed as Dino gave me back my platinum chain, na’mean. At 5:00 p.m. on the dot, I bounced out of Dino’s crib after I had kicked it with Dino and Kurrency. I was on my way to Greebrian Mall, looking fly from head to toe. My platinum chain was on top of my fresh, crispy white T-shirt. I was so excited that I had gotten my piece back. Na’mean. When I got to the Greenbrian Mall, located southwest of Atlanta, I walked straight to Macy’s store and then copped a nice piece of diamond necklace and a watch for Aunty Monique. After that, I copped some nice outfit for myself— some fresh Air Force Twos and fitted hats, na’mean. On my way out of Macy’s store, my stomach began to bubble, so I headed to the food court. When I got there, I ordered a plate of hot chicken wings and a Minute Made orange juice. By the time I had begun to gorge my meal, suddenly the thought of how my life had changed so fast hit me. I couldn’t believe how rich I was. As this thought ran through my mind, I felt the slight touch of someone standing beside me. “What’s up, boo?” some pregnant chick said with a smile. She looked familiar. “Why are you looking at me like that, like you don’t me no more,” she added with a frown.

“Yo, who the fuck is you talking to like that? If you don’t know where the fuck you’re going, the door is right there,” I said as I pointed to the exit door inside the food court. “Why are you trying to push me away when you fucked me? You was fucking the shit outta me like it’s the best and last pussy you have had,” she spat with a girlish look as she sat down beside me. That shit was so funny that I had to burst out a laugh, na’mean. In my mind, I knew who she was once I had finally looked at her face very well. “Yo, I you. Ain’t your name Brittany,” I said as I gulped down my orange juice. “You damn right. I’m the bitch you fucked in that Motel Six. C’mon, Sorrow, I still your name, and I know your brain works faster than your watch,” Brittany said as she stared at my Jacob & Co iced-out watch. “Yo, why are you sounding like that? Like a nigga owns you something,” I said, hoping that Brittany would get into her that I don’t give a fuck about what she’s talking about, na’mean. “Yeah, I know how I’m sounding. A bad bitch would sound like me, especially when she knows that you pack a nice heat with your dick,” Brittany said vividly. Her words sounded like a blow to the face. Right at that moment, I decided to kick it with Brittany. She was really a hood bitch. “Yo, why do you like to tease a brotha like that?” I said as I stared at Brittany’s pregnant stomach. “Why do you say that all the time? Anyway, what are you doing in the mall by yourself? Where is your bitch at?” Brittany said and then continued, “I know how y’all men do.” “Yo, I can’t do nothing with a bitch that ain’t nothing,” I spat in a calm manner. “Yo. You still haven’t answered my question,” Brittany said with a smile. “Yo, I’m chilling. Can’t a brotha come to the mall by himself?” I said. “So what a you doing at the mall since you want to bring that shit up?” I added.

Brittany looked at me and then smiled. “Actually I’m here to pick my boyfriend up. He works at the Foot Locker,” Brittany said with a nonchalant attitude, like she doesn’t give a fuck about her boyfriend, na’mean. “What time does he get off from work?” I asked as Brittany kept trying to seduce me with her eyes. “At 6:45 p.m. I still got about forty-five minutes left to pick his ass up,” Brittany replied. At that moment, it was 6:00 p.m. on the dot. “Yo, it is 6:00 p.m. and I’m about to hit the crib,” I said as I stood up. “Where did you park at?” Brittany asked as she stood up right after me. “Yo, I parked at the corner of the Wachovia Bank,” I replied, even though I knew Brittany was trying to get at me to fuck her. I tried to play it off, but she locked her eyes at me. “Yo, why do you want to know where I parked at?” I shot at Brittany with a raised brow. “Because I want to give you some head real quick,” Brittany said without hesitation, na’mean. Ten minutes later, Brittany and I hopped into my ride with a gush ion. Ready for some action, without hesitation, Brittany quickly dug her hand inside my pants and then pulled out my dick. She throbbed at it with the tip of her tongue to prime it up. Once my dick began to get hard like a rock, Brittany slipped her mouth on top of it and then began to suck it with no hands. “Yo, suck my balls,” I said in a low voice as I slowly began to place my hand on top of Brittany’s head. Licking it down to the base of my dick, Brittany completely shoved my balls into her mouth. Finally, about twenty seconds, she returned back to the sucking mood and then began to suck and suck. When I felt like I was about to cum, I said, “Yo, I’m about to nut. I want you to swallow my cum.” “Hun . . . hun,” Brittany mumble and then nodded her head, meaning that she accepted to do so. “Ooh shit, fuck, I’m cumming,” I said with a groan. “Humm . . . humm, baby, I swallowed it all,” Brittany said as she licked her lips. “Do you have some condoms?” she added. “Yeah I got some. They’re in the glove compartment,” I replied as I began to slowly pull my pants down to my kneecap. As Brittany reached out for the condom in my glove compartment, she quickly tore the wrap up and then began to suck my dick in order to get it to its

full size instantly, na’mean. Once my dick began to get hard again, Brittany slowly began to slide the condom into my dick. When she had finally finished, she left up her miniskirt and then hopped on top of my dick. Slowly she used her hand and then grabbed onto my dick. As good as it can get, she slid it properly into her wet pussy and then began to ride it like a train, na’mean. She made sure every inch of my dick went into her pussy. “Damn, it feels so warm inside. Uhmm . . . I missed this big ol’ dick,” Brittany said with a sultry voice. “I want you to cum inside. I need it,” she added as she began to slowly moan. At that time, I was sucking the shit out of Brittany’s fine titties. Her hard nipples were bristled as a ma’fucker, na’mean. “Yo, I’m cumming. Ooh shit, ooh shit . . . ,” I said as Brittany locked her pussy lip on my dick. “I’m cumming too,” Brittany chimed in as she exhaled a long breath. “Damn, I like this dick,” she added and then quickly got off me. Damn, that pregnant pussy is good as hell, I said in my mind as I turned on the ignition of my ride. “Hey, boo, can I use your tank top to wipe my pussy up? I don’t want to smell like pussy ’cuz my boyfriend is very insecure. That nigga love to smell my pussy to make sure I was not fucking nobody,” Brittany remarked with a smile. “Yo, that’s gonna be your problem. You got to deal with him yourself. I got one tank top, and that’s what I’m wearing, na’mean,” I replied. “You make me sick, boo. Don’t worry about it. I got something else I could use,” Brittany replied as she retrived a bottle of a Dolce & Gabbana women’s perfume from her bag. She sprayed it lightly around her vagina area and then sprayed it on her clothes.

CHAPTER TWELVE

The Shoot-out

I was glad after Uncle Mike had closed up the deal for the three houses that we were about to buy. That shit had me feeling good as we walked out from the realtor building. In my mind, at that moment, I wanted to surprise Uncle Mike. I wanted to give him something nice for his birthday, na’mean. So I told him that I wanted to cop a new ride. The only words that came out from Uncle Mike’s mouth was if I wanted it right now. I nodded my head and said yep. Since I have been living with Uncle Mike, we pretty much get along like a father and a son. Our understanding was totally mutual and respectable, na’mean. Twenty minutes later, we pulled into the CarMax dealership at Gwinett County, northeast of Atlanta. As soon as we entered into the lot to check out the cars in CarMax, one of the salesmen approached us and said, “How are y’all doing this beautiful day? My name is Thomas,” Thomas said as he stepped closer to shake my hand, na’mean. After we had shaken hands, he turned toward Uncle Mike and then shook his hand. “Yo, how much is that car right there?” I pointed to the GS 300 Lexus. “You mean the Lexus?” Thomas replied with a little smile. “Yeah, I want that shit right there. How much is it?” I asked as we stepped closer to the GS 300 Lexus. “It is open. Go ahead and check it out. It is ’05 model—very nice—and it is in a good condition. It got leather peanut-butter seats, automatic sunroof, radar detector, and it got only ninety-six miles on it. Almost brand-new,” Thomas said like a perfect salesman. “So how much is it?” I asked Thomas the second time. “Ooh, I’m sorry. It is twenty thousand dollars,” he replied. As I hopped into the GS 300, at the same time, Uncle Mike hopped in—na’mean—right into the enger seat. After I had checked the interior of the GS 300, we stepped into Thomas’s office and paid for the GS 300 with a platinum credit card, na’mean.

After that, we signed the paperwork and then bounced out, out of Thomas’s office with the keys to the GS 300, na’mean. On our way out the door, I gave Uncle Mike the keys to the Lexus and then told him that the Lexus was a gift from me. At that moment, Uncle Mike couldn’t believe it. His mouth was wide open. “Son, you know you don’t have to do that,” Uncle Mike said. “Unc, tomorrow is your birthday, and I couldn’t do it better than this, na’mean,” I said as Uncle and I hugged each other with love. Fifteen minutes later, as we were heading to the crib, I was listening to V103 radio station as I chased Uncle Mike in his Lex, na’mean. At that moment, I had begun to think of going to Club Jaguars. As I listened to the live broadcast on V103 radio station, son, as that thought ran through my mind, Uncle Mike was accelerating so fast and it was hard for me to catch up with him in my jeep, na’mean. By the time, I got to the crib, Uncle Mike pulled in in less than a minute as I was beginning to step out of my ride. He parked right beside me and then stepped out of the Lex with bundles of flowers. “Yo! Unc, I know you didn’t let Tiffany’s sex life get into your head,” I said with a joke. “She’s a diamond in the dirt that had been found,” Uncle Mike said with a smile. “You know what, I’m still the ladies’ man that I was twenty years ago, when I was in the game. One thing you should know is that love doesn’t last. So you gotta play with it until it fades out,” Uncle Mike added. “Word! That is some old-school player shit you said right there, Unc,” I commented as we stepped into the crib. “See, babies crawled before they walk, don’t they?” Uncle Mike asked without a doubt. “Yes, they do, Unc,” I replied. “Here we go. You see why love doesn’t age but fades away. Look here, Jacob. When two people are in a relationship, they are in love. But when that love started to fade away, their relationship slowly begins to die.” Uncle Mike looked at me with a quizzical look. “Yo! Unc, I’m feeling you on that, but I don’t believe in love, na’mean. I’m a thugged-out ma’fucker, and I can’t see myself with one female,” I remarked crisply. “Son, you’re like my child, and I want you to know that love is one of

the best things in life that is free, at no cost. You must believe in love but don’t trust it,” Uncle Mike remarked as we burst out laughing. At 11:45 p.m., as I was getting ready to hit Club Jaguars, I picked up the phone and dialed Auntie Monique’s number, na’mean. After about four rings, her voice messages came on. “You’ve reached the resident of Monique Wright. I’m not here to answer the phone right now. So please leave your name and a message and I would return your call as soon as possible. Have a blessed day.” As I waited for the phone to beep so I could leave Auntie Monique a message, I thought about Auntie Monique’s sweet voice and the way that shit goes into my right ear and then comes out through my left ear whenever she would beg me to stay away from the street, na’mean. After the beep had finally beeped, I began to leave my message. “This is Jacob, Auntie Monique. I haven’t heard from you in a while. So how are you doing? As for me, I’m doing pretty good mentally and physically. I sent you a gift. You should be getting it soon on the mail. Well, I Can’t wait to hear from you. Take care of yourself. I love you. Bye.” After I had finished leaving Auntie Monique a message, I felt good about it because she was like a mother to me, na’mean. I was halfway dressed by the time I had finishing leaving Auntie Monique a message. Dressed in a preferable outfit. I was wearing a milky Avirex jacket on top of a crispy white T-shirt, a pair of black jeans by Rocawear, and tan crispy Timberland boots, na’mean. As I headed out of my room, I thought about smoking the blunt of weed I had rolled up with Uncle Mike. But he was in his room, chilling with Tiffany, na’mean. On my way to Club Jaguars, I smoked the blunt of weed and then drank a bottle of beer while I listened to the live broadcast from Club Jaguars. By the time I got to the parking lot of Club Jaguars, I was high like the kite. The cool wind that was blowing at that time in the parking lot was so refreshing. After I had finally parked my ride, I headed straight to the front entrance of Club Jaguars. The lines of people waiting to get into the club was about twenty to twenty-five people. I don’t like to do the line thing so I walked straight to the VIP section and then paid thirty bucks, na’mean. Clean as a ma’fucker, the ladies on the line were checking me out. Na’mean. I couldn’t help it but to appreciate how they were looking at me. I know some of the guys on the line were hating me, and what made it so cool was that I was the

only ma’fucker at the entrance that looked like somebody with money, na mean. As soon as I had stepped into the club, right from the entrance, I smelled my favorite drug—marijuana. The smell was so strong that you can tell that mad blazing was going on inside the club, na’mean. Right at that moment, I knew I was in the right club. I glanced around the club before heading to the bar. There were pretty-looking chicks everywhere. In my mind, I knew I got to take one of this pretty chicks to the crib. After I had paid for my drink, I walked straight upstairs while I kept bobbing my head to the song that was playing. Even though I could not understand what the reggae artist was saying, the beat to the song was pure blazing, and that is what got me bobbing my head, na’mean. Suddenly, as I was strutting around to find a nice Jamaican chick I would chill with, the DJ stopped the music and then started saying, “Everybody, put your lighter in the air.” The crowd went wild, and ma’fuckers had their lighters burning in the air while they recite the song that the DJ was playing before he stopped it, na’mean. At that moment, I decided to go downstairs to the dance floor. When I got to the dance floor, some rude boy was blazing some phat-ass blunt of weed at the corner of the dance floor. The smell of the burning weed glued instantly to my nose. I knew I couldn’t resist it. So I walked straight to where the rude boy was standing at and said, “Yo, son, what’s up with the ganja?” In a quick second, the rude boy looked at me with a quizzical look that expressed that he couldn’t hear me very well because the music was so loud. The DJ had the music vibrating so loud from the double speakers at that time, na’mean. “Mi can’t hear you, brethren,” the rude boy replied. As he blew out a smoke through his nose, I tiptoed and then whispered into his ears. I told him to sell me some of the weed he was smoking. “Okay, brethren, falla mi,” the rude boy responded as he walked off, heading to the male restroom. I followed him without missing a step. When we got to the male restroom, the rude boy dug his hand into his jeans pocket and then pulled out a Ziploc bag of weed. In my mind, I knew the weed in the Ziploc bag is the gangster weed, straight out of Jamaica. The weed buds were brownish in color and you could smell the weed from the Ziploc bag, na’mean. “How much ganja you need, brethren,” Rude asked as he opened the Ziploc bag.

“Yo, I need a buck fifty,” I replied. “Yo! Brethren, mi can’t give you di herbs for dollars. You check. Mi know you love to bum up dem herb. So take dis for free. This ganja is the real fire, brethren,” the rude boy remarked as he gave me a handful of weed for free. “Son, you’re my nigga word up,” I said as I pulled out a stack. “Son, you know real niggas do real things. Na’mean. Yo, Rasta, I know this is nothing to you. I know how y’all rastas do. Son, take this loot and get yourself maybe a drink,” I added as I handled the rude boy a crispy hundred-dollar bill. “Yo, brethren, mi give thanks to jah. Yo, brethren, keep your money. Everthing is all right, man,” the rude boy said as he gave me a dab. “Yo, my name is Curtis black,” I lied. “Yo, brethren, just call me the ganja baby,” the rude boy said and then began to walk out of the restroom. After the rude boy had left, I bought an optimum blunt wrap from the restroom sales guy and then began to roll a nice phat-ass blunt of weed like the one rude boy was blazing before I had approached him na’mean. After I had finished rolling the blunt up, I lit it up and then began to motion toward the dance floor. Four drags of the weed had my head spinning like the wheel of fortune. I was high as the kite. Never had I thought that rude-boy weed would get me high instantly after four drags, na’mean. When I got to the dance floor, I was ampedup as the DJ played one of my favorite reggae songs (“Give Me the Light”) by Sean Paul. At that moment, some chick gave me a mad eye . She was dancing by herself, and the ways she was whining her hip kept everybody that was around her in staring mood, na’mean. As I walked closer to her, she smiled and then turned her face toward the DJ. The first thing, I checked out as I stepped closer to her was her bootylicious ass. She wore tight-skin clothes that showed the print of her ass crack. “Why are you looking at my pum-pum like that loverboy?” From nowhere, some Rasta with a long dreadlock said as he motioned toward me. “What the fuck is your pum-pum?” I asked with a chuckle. Immediately the

Rasta began to frown his face. “My girl,”rasta replied. “If mi see you look at my pum-pum again. Mi fi buss your brain,” the Rasta added just like that and then blew a ring of weed smoke in my face. After he had spat a great deal of venom to attack me if he caught me again looking at his girlfriend. “Yo, son, fuck you and your ma’fucking bitch,” I said as I stepped closer toward Rasta. Before I knew it, he threw a weak punch that landed in my face. I retaliated with a strong punch that caught him in his temple. With one step forward, I moved quickly toward Rasta and then smashed the bottle of Heini I was drinking in his head. In a quick effect, a pond of blood started to gush out from his head. As soon as I had turned my back on Rasta, one of his partners punched me with a strong uppercut that sent me to the floor instantly, na’mean. Finally, after the bouncers had grabbed onto us, they kicked us out of the club. At that time, there were two cops standing beside the club. One of the cops told us to get away from the club or we would be going to jail, na’mean. In a blink of an eye, after the cop had mentioned about going to jail, Rasta and his partner took off running, na’mean. After I had finished dusting myself up, I began to walk toward my ride. By the time I had reached where my car was, I noticed a white BMW heading toward me with its headlight dimmed, na’mean. Being the nigga that I am, I tried not to let nothing catch me by surprise. Slowly, as the BMW kept approaching toward me, I looked up immediately to see who the ma’fuckers was. As soon as I had noticed the driver of the BMW wearing long dreadlocks, I moved quickly to unlock my ride. It was Rasta in the BMW. He was trying to catch me slipping. Shit, I’m not going down like this, I said in my mind as the first shot hit the rearview glass of my ride. With a full rage, Rasta began to send bullets at me. The windshield of my ride was scattered into shards of glass. “Damn this ma’fucker—” Before I could finish my sentence, a bullet whizzed on my left ear. Without hesitation, I grabbed onto my 9 mm chrome and then bolted my way out of my ride through the enger door. Once I had gained my balance, I began to send mad slugs at Rasta. Yeah, ma’fucker, I got your ass now, I said in my mind. At that moment, Rasta quickly pulled his BMW beside the car that was close to

him for a shield, na’mean. “Okay, lover boy, yuh know sey mi na tough Jamaican bad bwoy,” Rasta said and then continued, “So watch what mi fi do to you, lover boy.” After Rasta’s final words, he was right back on it again with an UZI. This time, he began to spray the fuck out of me. Brakk . . . tata . . . tata. The sound of the UZI was blaring tremendously at the same time the shells hit the concrete ground in raucous manner. For some reason, fear got hold of me as bullets began to fly toward me from every corner, na’mean. I couldn’t run or keep dodging the ma’fucker bullets, so I began to send slugs right back at Rasta, even though he was out blasting me. I knew Rasta wasn’t about to stop. “Fuck you, Rasta,” I yelled as I heard the police siren blaring down the street. At that moment, I was hoping that Rasta would stop busting at me so we both can bounce out, out of the shot-out scene before the cops spot us, na’mean. Instead Rasta’s stupid ass kept shooting at me. “Drop your weapon and put your hands in the air. I repeat, drop your weapon and put your hands in the air. This is Atlanta Police,” one of the Atlanta policeman said as four policemen pointed their guns in one unison form at Rasta. At that moment, I was thinking of what to do because I knew if Rasta decided to comply or get shot the fuck up, it is nine out of ten that they would search for me. Before I could come up with a plan, I heard, “Drop your weapon on the ground and don’t move,” some cop say. He was right beside me as he pointed his burner at the back of my head. “Drop your weapon now,” he added as he cocked his burner. “Aight, you got me officer,” I said as I began to drop my 9 mm chrome on the ground. “Now put your hands on top of your head,” he commanded and then kicked my burner away from me. “I need an assistant here, APF,” meaning Atlanta Police Force. “I got one on submission,” the cop that pointed his burner at me yelled out for his comrades. Finally, after I had been cuffed up, two policemen led me to a van. At that moment Rasta was in one of the vans. He was cuffed up just like me, na’mean.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Up in 2 Da t

As I sat on my bunk, thinking about what had happened last night at the club, my roommate walked in from the dayroom and said, “What’s up, young blood?” His name is Jackson Curry, but he preferred to be called OG, na’mean. OG looks like he was in his forties, and that might be the reason he wanted people to call him OG. “Son, what’s good,” I replied. “Yo, what time does the phone comes up?” I added as the thought of being locked in jail ran through my mind like a spinning wheel. “Yo, young blood, this motherfuckers turns the phone on whenever they like. This is Fulton County Jail,” OG said. “Yo, they might turn the phones on after chow call,” O.G added as he lit up the cigarette he was holding. At that moment, I stood up and then snatched up the piece of paper that addressed my charges. I flipped it over and then started to read my charges, na’mean: “Possession of a firearm, shooting in the city, and assault. “Yo, young blood, don’t worry about your case. That shit ain’t go stick,” OG said as he ed me the loose tobacco he had rolled up. “Fire that shit up and get that stress out of you, young blood,” OG added. As OG and I began to kick it, he told me he’s from Alabama and he had been living in Georgia for quite some time, na’mean. “Yo, young blood, the law is fucked up in Georgia,” OG said with a frowned. “This white folks want to see all black male locked up in the system,” OG added. I nodded my head and said, “Yeah, I feel that. Shit is crazy out here, na’mean.” “Yo, young blood, I’m forty-five years old, and I have gave this folks twenty years of my life locked behind bars,” OG remarked. “Word,” I exclaimed with a raised brow. “Yeah, young blood. I’ve been doing this shit since I was a youngster,” OG said firmly and then continued, “This time, I hoped for the worst to expect the best. This folks got me for a murder charge,” OG’s words sounded like an atomic bomb in my ears.

“Son, you got to keep your head up. Don’t let this folks see your head down, na’mean,” I said with a word of encouragement. “Yo, young blood, it is not this folks that I’m worried about—,” OG said with a pause and then continued, “It is my friends that had snitched on me.” The look on OG’s face flagged he was highly upset and disappointed. “Yo, that shit ain’t cool. Niggas around my way get smoked for doing shit like that, na’mean,” I said sharply. “Yo, young blood, I gotta keep my head up like you had said. I got one shot. The victims in the bank couldn’t identify me. Man, that shit is crazy. You can’t trust your friends no more,” OG remarked as he leaned back to light up a cigarette. Ten minutes later, after OG and I had finished kicking it, I leaned back on my bunk and then started to think of what OG had told me, when he had said, “Two of his friends snitched on him.” As soon as that word began to soak in my head, I heard, “Chow call . . . chow call,” some female officer say on the mic. “Yo, young blood, it is time to get that bullshit lunch,” OG said as he walked out of the cell. By the time, I had walked out of my cell to the dayroom, everyone else in my dorm was standing on the stepway to pick up a tray from the officer that was ing out the lunch trays. At that time, some guy was mean-mugging me like he got beef with me, na’mean. When I had finally picked up my tray from the officer, I walked past the guy that had mean-mugged me. In my mind, I knew if he tries some gangster shit, God knows I would smash him with my tray, na’mean. As I proceeded toward OG, I drank the little orange juice that comes with the lunch tray and then gave OG my tray of bologna and peanut butter sandwich. “Thank you, young blood,” OG said as I motioned toward the collect-call phones. When I got to the phone area, I picked the one in the corner and then called Uncle Mike “What’s up, Unc?” I said as Uncle Mike came to the phone. “I’m doing okay. How are you doing?” Uncle Mike replied.

“Shit, I’m ready to get out of this t, na’mean,” I said sharply. “I’m working on that. I’ve got you a good lawyer. He should be coming down there to see you all right,” Uncle Mike remarked. “Aight, Unc. I’ll call you tomorrow.” “Okay, Jacob. Just hang in there. You would be out soon, all right?” Uncle Mike said firmly. “Aright, Unc,” I replied and then hung up. I stood at the phone area for a minute and then decided to call Dino. After I had finished dialing Dino’s number, his phone began to ring. This crackers can’t stop me, I said in my mind as Dino picked up the phone. When the operator had finished saying the collect calls recorded information, my call was connected. “What’s up, bruh?” Dino said. “Shit, ain’t nothing going on in here, na’mean,” I replied. “Look, bruh, you fixing to come home soon. Me and Kurrency spoke to your uncle, and he said he had got you some lawyer,” Dino remarked. “Bruh, you don’t have no bond on the assault charge ’cuz it is serious charge. You know what I’m talking about,” Dino added. “Son, that shit is some bullshit, na’mean,” I said sarcastically. “Fo sho, my nigga. You know how we do. 2 Raw–2 Die 4 Life,” Dino said. “Yo, son, I know you ain’t gonna believe this. Son, do you that bitch Brittany?” I said with a smile. “Bruh, you mean that broad from the Motel Six,” Dino asked. “Son, I met her at the mall the other day. Word to the motha. Son, I fucked the shit out of her in my ride,” I remarked. “Bruh, that was another piece of pussy,” Dino joked.

“Son, that bitch is pregnant when I had fucked her, na’mean. Son, that pussy was juicy than orange juice,” I said with a laugh. “Pregnant pussy feel good. Don’t you know that?” Dino shot back at me. “Word to the motha, that shit feels good than the Bahamas’ cool breeze, na’mean,” I said with an enthusiastic feeling. “Bruh, we fixing to get this money when you touched down. You know what I’m saying,” Dino stated and then continued, “Me and Kurrency will be waiting on you. You know how we do, 2 Raw–2 Die 4 Life.” “Son, I can’t wait to touch down. Word to the motha,” I said as the phone operator alerted me that I have two minutes left for the collect call. “Bruh, this call fixing to end. Hit me up later on tonight, aight?” Dino said. “Aight, son. One.” “Peace,” Dino said as we hung up. As I got off the phone with Dino, some guy approached me with a mean mug. He stared at me with a quizzical look. In my mind, I knew I will smash him up immediately without hesitation. He was shorter than me, and there was no way he could stand my wrath, na’mean. “Yo, son, what the fuck you looking at?” I said as I stepped closer to him. “Fuck you, mean. I’m looking at the same thing you’re looking at,” he shot back at me and then stepped his foot on top of my crispy Timberland boot. At that moment, I couldn’t think of nothing else. Without hesitation, I smacked him hard in his face. He fell backward and then took off to his cell. As I began to motion to my cell, some guys in my dorm began to group up when they saw what happened to their partner. I glanced at them quickly and then stepped into my room. “Yo, youngblood, I saw you smacked that knucklehead,” OG said as he nodded his head. “That’s how you do it, young blood. You set example out of this knuckleheads,” OG added as he stood up and then motioned toward the two broken razor blades he had stuck into the light socket. When he got to the light

socket, he bent over toward the socket and then touched the broken razor blades until a light emerged out of the two broken razor blades. “Yo, OG, I got zero understanding when a bitch nigga crossed the line. You feel me?” I said as I watch OG lit up the cigarette he was holding from the two broken razor blades, he had stuck up into the light socket. “Yeah, young blood. I feel you on that. In fact, when I was your age, my understanding is zero tolerant. My first time in prison, I had to stuck some guy that tried me. I stuck him with an ice-pick twenty times,” OG remarked. “He almost died, young blood. Since then, ma’fuckers out there in the prison yard started to give me my respect. I tell you what, youngblood, you must stay with your guard all the time. If you’re looking at serving sometime in prison,” OG added as he ed me the lit cigarette. Before I could say anything to OG, two guys walked into our cell with sharpedged rods. One of the guys was tall and built with muscles. The other guy was short and stocky. “Which one of y’all that hit my cousin? OG, I know you don’t want none of this action straight up. Yo, I feel like you’re the one that hit my cousin,” the tall muscular guy said with a deep voice. “Son, I’m the one that smacked your cousin. What the deal is?” I said as I stood up with closed fists. “Yo, you sound like you’re from up north. Well, this is ATL, and we dunk niggas like you down here. You know what I’m talking about, pussy ass nigga. We mob shit down here. It’s about to get ugly in this room. Give up that Jacob & Co. watch you got on, and we will be out of this cell like a ghost,” the short stocky guy said. At that moment, OG had begun to roll his mattress up. After he had finished, he pulled out a long rod with a sharpened edge out of his mattress. “Yo, youngblood, use this rod. I got my knuckles on this pussy niggas,” OG said as he handled me his rod. “So what y’all wanna do ’cuz I’m ready for whatever?” OG added. “Ooh shit, I like this shit right here. That’s what I’m talking about,” the stocky guy said as he intended to motion toward OG. OG took one step backward and then positioned his guard up in the air. “Yo,

Big-C, you and JD got this shit figured out wrong. Ain’t no sucker in this room,” OG said as Big-C, which is the short stocky guy, swung his rod at OG, na’mean. OG deflected it with his left hand and then did a quick split down toward BigC’s kneecap and then punched him in his private area. “Shit, ooh shit,” Big-C screamed with pain and then curled up against the wall. Finally, as OG was about to stand up from splitting his legs down, JD motioned toward OG to smash him with his rod. “Son, I know I can do you by myself,” I said as I wet JD twice in his stomach with the sharp edge of the rod OG had given me to use. Without hesitation, JD dashed out of the room in a raucous manner, na’mean. At that moment, OG had picked up Big-C’s rod and then began to hit him fiercely in his kneecap. “Yo . . . yo, Shawty . . . you got me,” Big-C begged as blood gushed out of his head and knees. Before we know what was going on, some officer began to yell, “Inmate, inmate, stop . . .” Within a few second, seven officers dashed into our cell. Three of them yanked me down to the floor and then handcuffed me, while the other four officers tackled OG against the wall and then cuffed him up. “Take them to the multipurpose room,” some male black officer with a rank said as he radioed the medical. “He’s bleeding bad,” he added as he pointed at Big-C. As the seven male officers began to take me and OG down to the multipurpose room, OG said, “Don’t worry, youngblood, this folks here knows I don t play.” Finally, when we got to the multipurpose room, they removed the handcuffs off me and OG. “Yo, youngblood, did you see how that bitch nigga was screaming?” OG said with a grin. “Yeah, I saw that shit. Son cried like a bitch,” I replied as two female black nurses walked into the multipurpose room. One of them walked toward me with a smile and said, “Are you okay? Do you have any injuries?” she asked repeatedly with an amazing smile. “Naw, I’m good,” I replied. “Aight, in case if you do, fill out a medical request,” she said as she motioned toward the officer that had escorted them into the multipurpose room. After the other nurse had finished addressing OG, the look on her face expressed that something was wrong. “Your temperature is high. You might need to see the doctor,” she said to OG. “I’m okay, Nurse. I need some time to myself,” OG

replied. “Ooh no, baby, I can’t leave you like this,” she stated and then walked toward the other nurse and the officer in the multipurpose room. “Yo, young blood, they fixing to separate us. Take some of this tobacco with you ’cuz you fixing to go to lock down on eighth floor,” OG said as he handled me half of the tobacco he had. “Yo, OG, you’re one of the realest niggas I had ever met,” I said as I tucked the tobacco into my Timberland boot. “Yo, young blood, I dig with what you had just said. Just take care of yourself. If you ever get out of this t, don’t come back to this shit,” OG said. “Son, my life is dedicated to the street, na’mean. Real niggas do real things. I don’t know when we’ll meet again. Na’mean,” I said and then continued, “Yo, this watch cost more than five G. It is now yours, na’mean.” I tossed my Jacob & Co. watch to OG. He quickly snatched it up before it hit the floor. “Yo, young blood, I appreciate it, bruh,” OG said as the officer in the multipurpose room approached him and said, “Get up, Jackson Curry. You’re going to see doctor.” “Yo, Officer, give me some time so I could kick it with young blood,” OG spat. “No, Mr. Curry, you don’t have no time. This my house. Do you understand me? You do not tell any officer in here what to do.” “C’mon, Officer Thomas, why you got to go by the book all the time?” OG said with vex. “You got one second to get your ass up, Mr. Curry or . . .” Before Officer Thomas could finish his midsentence, OG interrupted him and said, “My, aight, young blood. Appreciate the watch.” “Son, it’s all good. Hold it down, na’mean,” I said as we dabbed each other. Twenty-minutes later, I was in a lockdown cell by myself. My head was spinning around like a wall clock, na’mean. As I stared at the wall on the lockdown cell, my mind was drained with all kinds of thoughts. I couldn’t believe that I was locked up in the t. As soon as I heard the loud whispering outside of my cell, I snapped back into reality. “Jacob Wright, here is your copy of your disciplinary

report. You’ve been served,” a black male officer said as he slid a piece of paper into my cell. “Fuck the disciplinary report,” I said in a low voice as I motioned toward the door. “Yo, Officer, this cell is nasty, na’mean. Yo, you need to move me somewhere else,” I said. “Yo, you got shit residue all over this ma’fucker,” I added. As the officer turned his back to walk off, he said bluntly, “All the rooms are just like that, so get use to it.” “Yo, you need to get on your job, ma’fucker. Call one of the trustees to clean this shit up,” I shot back at him. “You need to watch your mouth. You don’t talk to me any kind of ways. I’m not the motherfucker that got your ass locked up,” he shot back at me. “Yo, you need to get the fuck outta my face with that bullshit,” I said with a vexation. “I tell you what, keep running your mouth and I’ll get one of this punk in here to fuck you in your ass,” he said as he stood in front of my cell door, staring at me. “Don’t worry about it, Officer Morgan,” I said as I glanced at his name tag on his uniform. “I’ll be out soon to fuck your wife like that while your ass is gone to work,” I said with a laugh and then watched Officer Morgan’s facial expression change immediately as he began to walk away, na’mean. One minute later, after Officer Morgan had walked away, some guy in the cell next to mine began to bang on the wall to get my attention. “Yo, what’s up?” I said as I walked closer to the wall in my cell room. “Say, bruh, don’t let that ma’fucker get to you aight. Yo, my name is Gangsta, you heard me?” Gangsta said. “Yo, son, I’m Curtis Black,” I lied. “Yo, son, you got some flame? I got loose tobacco in here, na’mean,” I added. “Say, bruh, I ain’t got no flame, but check this out. I’m cool with the trustee. He should be here in a minute with a flame, you heard?” Gangsta said flatly. “Aight, son, get at me when your partner get down here, aight?” I said. “Aight, bruh. Keep it pimping, playa,” Gangsta replied. About ten minutes as I sat on the bunk, thinking, I heard Gangsta hollering at some female office through the flap in his cell. “Yo, Ms. Johnson, you need to holla at a brutha. You have been acting strange lately, you heard me? I know I ain’t got nothing on you bitch. Yo. Ms. Johnson, I know you heard me,” Gangsta said out loud. “Ayo, Ms. Johnson, show some love to brutha. I know what you need, Ms. Johnson. I ain’t

got no money for you, but I got bunch of love, you heard? I was born with nothing, so we don’t need nothing but love to kick it when I touched down, you heard?” Gangsta added. As I heard Gangsta spitting out mad game to some female officer, I stood up and then walked to my flap. I wanted to know who this gorgeous chick gangsta spitting out flames at. Once I had seen who she was, I started to laugh. “Son, what the fuck—” I paused. “Ayo, Gangsta, do you like fat ugly chick?” I asked. “Hell ‘n’ yeah,” Gangsta shot back at me. “Bruh, one thing about fat women is that you ain’t got to worry about them cheating on you. I tell you something, ugly fat chicks get to da money. They don’t mind spending it with you. All you got to do is just play some lovey-dovey,” Gangsta added. “Son, I feel you on that. One man’s trash is another man’s treasure, na’mean,” I said flatly. “Yeah, man, I know what you mean. A lot of bruthas overlooked fat sisitas, you heard? That shit makes me feel like I could have bunch of them when I touched down,” Gangsta said. “Yo, Curtis, where you from?” Gangsta added. “Son, I’m from down here,” I replied. “Bruh, you sound like you from New York,” Gangsta said exclusively. “I grew up in New York. You feel me?” I remarked. “Yo, I feel you. You know what I’m saying. I’m from Georgia, but I was raised in New Orleans, you heard me?” Gangsta remarked as the trustee walked into the dorm. “Yo, son, holla at your partner. Ask him if he got the flame, na’mean,” I said. “Aight, hold on. I fixing to holla at him,” Gangsta said. “Yo, Trustee, holla at me. Yo, this Gangsta. What the move is? You know how we do. Holla at me when you get the first chance, aight?” Gangsta added as I walked back to my bunk and pulled out the loose of tobacco I had hidden inside my Timberland boot, na’mean. By the time I had rolled up about six sticks from the loose tobacco, the trustee

Gangsta was hollering at came to my flap and said, “Yo, bruh, I got the flame.” “Aight, hold on,” I said as I walked toward the flap. “Yo, son, give this loose tobacco to Gangsta and then keep this rolled up ones for yourself,” I added as I gave the trustee six rolled up tobacco, na’mean. “Yo, bruh, ’preciate that for real,” the trustee said as he handled me a flame to light up my cigarette. “Yo, bruh, you look familiar. Do you know some guy’s name Dino and Kurrency?” he added. I shook my head and said, “I’ve heard of those names before. Yo, what’s the deal with them?” For some reason I knew I could not give up easily that I know my partner Dino and Kurrency to ma’fucker that I don’t know, na’mean. “Yo, this shit is crazy. I’ve seen you with my cousin, you dig. Dino is my first cousin,” Trustee said in an uncomfortable manner. “Yo, I’m Crazy-E, and I’m sorry for shooting at you with my partner. Do you when we had approached you at the trap and then try to run you off after we had told you to stop trapping in our hood?” Crazy E added. “Yo, son, I that shit. Yo, it is all good. I know the dogs would only bark at my shadow,” I said, meaning that ma’fuckers that tried to stop me from getting money at the hood because I was not from there would only try and fail at the end, na’mean. “Yo, bruh, my bad. We would’ve handled that situation better than that,” CrazyE itted. “Son, that shit is nothing. I know y’all were trying to hold your hood down,” I said as I pulled the lit-up cigarette that I was smoking. “Yo, bruh, I gotta get out of this t. This folks got me for a murder charge,” Crazy-E said with his head down. “Word, yo, son. You gotta do what you gotta do to get out of this t, na’mean,” I said. “Yeah, bruh. I’m taking that shit to trial for real,” Crazy-E remarked and then continued, “Bruh, I’ll be back to chop things up with you soon as I’m done with my details, aight?” Crazy-E said.

“Aight, son,” I said and then walked back to my bunk. The next day, after I had finished doing push-ups and squats, a black male officer came to my cell and then cuffed me up for attorney visit. He took me down to the attorney booth and then took the handcuffs off me. At that moment, my lawyer was in the attorney booth, na’mean. “How are you doing, Mr. Jacob Wright? My name is Donovan Brown. I’m currently retained by Mike Wright to represent you in court,” Donovan Brown said as he gave me his attorney business card through the open flap located in the booth. “So what’s the deal with charges?” I said. “I had just talked to the DA. You have a good shot to walk out free from those charges. As for now, you do not have a bond on the assault charge,” Donovan Brown said as he opened up his briefcase and then retrieved a photo of Rasta’s mug shot, the same guy that I had a shoot-out with at the club. “Mr. Jacob Wright, do you know the person in this picture?” Donovan Brown added as he handed Rasta’s mug shot to me through the open flap, na’mean. “Yo, I don’t know who this guy is, na’mean,” I replied at once ’cuz I’m not the ma’fucker that would snitch on anybody no matter the circumstance, na’mean. “Mr. Jacob, I was notified that you’ve been in jail for a week now. The person that you’re looking at is Anthony Williams a.k.a. Jamaica Major. He has five open outstanding warrants for murder charges in New York,” Donovan Brown said with a nod. “He’s the guy you had a shoot-out with at the club. I don’t think DA would waste his time with him. He knows his ass will be railroaded with multiple life sentences in New York, and I’m pretty sure it would give you a nice shot to walk out free,” Donovan Brown added with a smile. “Yo, I’ll take your word for that,” I said. “It is my call, Mr. Jacob Wright. The DA is a good friend of mine. You know what I mean,” Donovan Brown shot back at me as he closed his briefcase. Finally, after I had finished speaking with my lawyer, a white male officer escorted me to my cell block. At that moment, everything that my lawyer had said to me soaked into my mind. I felt good, knowing that I will be out of the

t soon.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

The Beatdown

Five days later, I was released from the t. My lawyer did a good job. He got my charges dropped, and I was free like a bird, na’mean. That evening that the jail house had set me free, Uncle Mike came to pick me up from the t. When we got to the crib, Tiffany and Esha were at the crib, cooking. The delicious smell of fried chicken made my stomach start bubbling as I stepped into the crib. “Hey, Sorrow,” Tiffany said as she motioned to hug me, “we missed you,” she added as Esha stood beside her. I knew she was waiting for her turn to give me a hug. “What’s up, Esha?” I said as I turned to hug her. “What’s up, baby?” Esha replied with a heated ion as she hugged me. “Don’t you ever leave us again,” she added as she patted me on the cheek. “Yo, mummy, I’m here for you, na’mean,” I said as I wrapped my arms across Esha. “Look at you . . . uhmm. Come here, baby,” Esha spat as she tiptoed to give me a wet kiss. “Okay, y’all,” Tiffany exclaimed and then cleared her throat. “Don’t you ever go there, Tiffany. You’ve been lovey-dovey all day with your baby daddy,” Esha said as she pointed at Uncle Mike. “Yo, I need to take a nice shower,” I said as I unwrapped my arms off Esha. “Yeah, Sorrow, I think you really need to take a shower ’cuz we don’t want you smelling like a jailbird,” Tiffany said with a joke as she motioned to the kitchen. “She’s silly, baby. Don’t mind her. Your baby like how you smell,” Esha said. “Your plate of fried chicken, peas, corn bread, sweet potatoes, and collard greens

will be ready by the time you finished showering, okay, baby?” Esha added as she kissed me on the cheek, na’mean. After I had finished taking a shower, I put on a white crispy tank top and a black Akademiks jeans. At that time, I was thinking of calling Dino, na’mean. Once I had finally sat down on my bed to relax a little bit, I picked up the phone to call Dino. After I had dialed his numbers, Dino’s phone rang about four times before he answered. “What’s up, bruh?” Dino said with a laugh that expressed he was happy that I was out from the t. “Rat-a-tat-tat . . . what’s up, son?” I said with a smile. “Bruh, you know we missed your ass. You know what I’m talking about? 2 Raw–2 Die 4 Life,” Dino said. “Fo’sho, son. What’s the word?” I asked flatly as I began to loosen a blunt of optimum. “Bruh, that nigga Knowledge has been waiting on us to come through. Everything is still everything you smell,” Dino spat. “Bruh, since you’re back, we need to check that motherfucker to see what he got for us ’cuz my bread need some yeast,” Dino added, meaning that his stacks of money is getting low. “Son, I feel you on that, na’mean. Yo, check this out. I think the ma’fucker that I had a shoot-out with at the club is your partner,” I said and then paused. “My partner!” Dino exclaimed. “Bruh, I don’t know that nigga,” Dino spat at once. “Son, I think that ma’fucker is your partner, na’mean. Son, I don’t know what his name was, but I think it was the guy that you had told me and Kurrency that you wanted to use to smoke the Italian guy before I clapped his ass up, na’mean.” “Bruh, get the fuck outta here, that motherfucker ain’t my Jamaica Major homeboy,” Dino spat with a doubt. “Son, I’m serious. That guy has a large mole in his face,” I remarked.

“Yep, that’s him. Bruh, I still can’t believe—” Dino paused for a minute and then continued, “Bruh, how did you know it was him? ’Cuz I had talked to him few months ago.” I listened to Dino attentively and then said, “Son, my lawyer showed me his picture, na’mean. Son, I hate to say this, it is a wrap for him. My lawyer told me that your partner got five murder cases pending up North.” “Bruh, that motherfucker is a cold killer. He used to be my pop’s hit man back in the days before my pop died,” Dino remarked. “Son, every dawg got their days, na’mean. He will be aight,” I said with no remorse. “Bruh, lemme get at you later. ’Bout to make some calls,” Dino stated. “Aight, son. Get at me. You know how we do. 2 Raw–2 Die 4 Life,” I said and then hung up the phone. Three minutes later, I was ready to eat the delicious meal that Esha and Tiffany had prepared, na’mean. By the time I had walked out of my room, Uncle Mike, Esha, and Tiffany were sitting at the dining table, waiting on me. The delicious bowl of fried chicken, mac and cheese, collard greens, sweet potatoes, corn bread, pelican pies, and a jar of fresh orange juice had my mouth watering, na’mean. “Wow, I see y’all put it down for real,” I said with a grin. “Yes, baby, we did. Why don’t you come here and have a seat,” Esha said. “Yes, we did, Sorrow, ’cuz a real woman like us knows that the way to a man’s heart is through his favorite food, ain’t that baby?” Tiffany said firmly and then turned her face toward Uncle Mike. “Yes, baby, you’re absolutely right,” Uncle Mike said crisply and then asked me to bless the meal. Damn, Unc, you asked the wrong ma’fucker, I said in my mind because I couldn’t even the last time I had prayed, na’mean. Slowly as I began to think of what to say, my mind drifted to the Lord’s Prayer. “Aight, let’s bow our heads,” I

said like a champ, na’mean. Fifteen minutes later, after the tasteful dinner, Uncle Mike and Tiffany walked into the room, while Esha and I stayed in the living room to watch the throwback video of Monica and Brandy, na’mean. During that moment, Esha had begun to seduce me with her enticing body as she placed her head on top of my lap. She massaged my stomach repeatedly with a kiss. In my mind, I knew she wanted me to fuck the shit out of her instead of watching the throwback video of Monica and Brandy, na’mean. “So, baby, do you have any plans for tomorrow? You know that movie Get Rich or Die Trying is gonna be playing at the movie theaters tomorrow evening,” Esha remarked as she kept massaging my stomach with a tender touch. “Yo, I really don’t know about tomorrow. You know I don’t do that movie theater stuff,” I lied. “Well, that’s too bad. You’ve to start doing it ’cuz I like going to the movies,” Esha shot back at me with a girlish look. “Yo, I think you’re missing my point right there. I’m not saying I wouldn’t go to the movies with you. What I said is that I don’t do the movie theater stuff ’cos I don’t have time for that shit. Didn’t you learn in school that time is money?” I said firmly. “Why are you playing with my emotions, Sorrow? I’m saying—,” Esha said and then took a deep breath, “I’m ready to be your girlfriend,” she added. “Yo, Esha, you could have me anytime you want, na’mean,” I lied. “Please don’t play no more games with me. Don’t you wanna be my boyfriend?” Esha asked with raised brows. “Yo, what do you want me to say? Okay, let’s do it like this, I’m going to be your best friend and your lover. Does that sound good enough?” I said. Meanwhile in my mind, I knew I wasn’t going to stay with one girl ’cuz I love dealing with different types of chicks, especially the pretty ones with different manners and different nationality, na’mean. “You haven’t answered my question yet. Do you want to be my boyfriend?”

Esha pushed. “I told you already that I’m your boyfriend, na’mean. If you’re listening to me, you wouldn’t have asked me the same question twice,” I said flatly. Esha smiled and then began to kiss me with a gush ion. Suddenly, at that moment, my phone began to ring. I wanted to ignore it, but one part of my mind wanted me to answer it. Slowly and steadily, I began to pull myself away from Esha as she kept kissing me with a wet kiss. “Yo, Esha, is that my phone ringing?” I asked with a great deal of thought because Esha didn’t want me to answer my phone. “Yes, baby, it is,” Esha answered. “Aight, I’ll be right back,” I said and then stood up on my feet. I motioned quickly to my room and then snatched my phone up from the charger. “What’s up, son?” I said as I glanced at the remaining of the weed I had left in my weed cache. It was Kurrency on the other end of the phone. “Yo, I’ve been trying to get at you,” I added as I began to loosen a blunt of optimum. “Bruh, some stupid bitch accidently dropped my cell phone in the motherfucking Jacuzzi,” Kurrency remarked. “Son, you need to check that bitch, na’mean,” I said as I rolled a nice blunt, out of the leftover weed I had left in my weed cache. “Bruh, she got a nice BAW. You know what that means?—black-ass-whopping,” Kurrency said with a chuckle and then continued, “Bruh, I had talked to Dino, and he told me that it was his partner, Jamaica Major, you had shoot-out with at the club.” “Yo, son, that shit was crazy,” I said. As I blew the blunt of weed smoke in the air. “Bruh, don’t worry about it. I’m glad to see you touch the turf. You feel me?” Kurrency said. “Bruh, I’ll get at you. I’m about to take care of some business,” he added.

“Aight, son, be easy,” I said and then hung up. As soon as I hung up the phone with Kurrency, Esha walked into my room and then sat on my bed. She glanced around my room and then smiled at me. “Yo, come here, mummy,” I said with a sultry voice. “Go ahead and finish smoking that weed in your hand,” Esha stated. “Yo, I know you didn’t quit smoking weed again?” I asked. “Yep, I had finally given it up for good this time,” Esha replied as she stood up and then motioned toward my CD racks. When she got there, she began to scan through my CDs with the tip of her fingers. Once she found the CD she likes to listen to, she picked it up and then inserted it into my CD player, na’mean. Slowly, as the sound of Young Jeezy began to fill the air waves, Esha began to skip the tracks to “Soul Surviver.” After she had finished, she began to undo her clothes. She spread her legs wide open during the process to reveal her pussy print. With a perfect touch, she pulled down her bikini. “Uhmm . . . do you like what you see, baby?” Esha asked with a sultry voice as she walked toward me. When she got to where I was, she dug one of her fingers into her pussy. “Uhmm . . . I’m wet, baby,” she added. I was straight high like a ma’fucker at the time Esha was performing her sexual act. During that moment, the only thing that was in my head was how I would fuck the shit out of Esha and then make her pussy bleed, na’mean. As my head kept spinning with nasty thoughts, I asked Esha if she thinks she was a bad freak. “I’m the definition of a freak,” she replied. “I like that. You got very good attacking answer. Why don’t you come here and show big daddy how freaky you are?” I said as I began to pull down my pants in haste. Right at that moment, my dick was hard like a rock, na’mean. I swayed it in a provocative manner and then said, “Yo, put this dick in your mouth and show me how bad you want it.” Without hesitation, Esha got down to her knees. She opened her mouth wide and then took me completely. Son, I couldn’t give

you the complete details of how I was feeling inside the beautiful world of Esha’s mouth job. That shit was like mixing sweet honey into a jar of brown sugar, na’mean. After about ten minutes of a nice suck and lick, Esha stood up and then positioned herself in a doggy-style manner. “I like it from the back, Sorrow,” Esha remarked as she licked her mouth. As I began to penetrate into Esha’s wet pussy, I felt the warmness of her wet pussy. “Uhmm . . . uhmm,” Esha moaned slowly in a low voice as my nine-inch heavyweight dick probed around her vagina. Damn, this pussy feels good like a ma’fucker, I said in my mind as I spread Esha’s ass cheeks and then began to pound her pussy heavily until she began to cry with a sadistic pain. “Shut the fuck up and take this dick,” I said as I pulled Esha’s hair backward. “Bitch, I know you love this dick. And if I give it to you on a daily basis, you wouldn’t know how to act,” I added. Meanwhile one part of my mind was telling me that Esha would hate the shit out of me for insulting her, na’mean. But at the end of the day, I knew I would be the ma’fucker that she will always love to fuck and then hate to let go, na’mean. As I continued to bone Esha, she cried her ass off and then began to beg me to stop. For some reason, if she knew her cry was only motivating my sex drive as it landed on a deaf ears, she would’ve stopped crying. “You want me to stop, huh?” I asked as I began to feel like I was cumming. “Ooh shit . . . fuck, fuck,” I added as I pulled my dick out of Esha’s pussy and then cum on top of her phat ass.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Down with Knowledge

The next-day, Uncle Mike and I sat down in the living room and then began to chop things up, na’mean. I was upset when Uncle Mike began to tell me how the franchise company that he wanted to invest my loot on turned his application down because they suspected some funny shit on the application. “Yo, that’s some bullshit, Uncle,” I said with a vex. “Don’t worry about it. One door closed and the other opens,” Uncle Mike said with a fresh mind, na’mean. As I listened to Uncle Mike and the things he was saying, I began to question myself why the franchise company would turn down the application without a proper reason. I knew that shit didn’t make no sense, so I asked, “Yo, Unc, what exactly did they figure out wrong on the application?” I stared at Uncle Mike in a quizzical manner. Uncle Mike cleared his throat and then said, “That I’m a black man and that could be the only thing.” Uncle Mike shook his head with bitterness. “This is a white man’s world, Jacob. Don’t worry about it. Better days are coming,” Uncle Mike added as he breathe in a sigh of depression before he began to motion into his bedroom, na’mean. Five minutes later, after I had walked into my room, I began to think of what Uncle Mike had just told me. After I had finished thinking about it, I picked up the phone and then dialed Stacy McNeil’s numbers. Her phone rang about four times before she finally came to the phone. “Hello, this Stacy McNeil.” The sound of Stacy McNeil’s voice on the phone was charming to the ears. “Hello, Mrs. Stacy McNeil. This is Sorrow,” I said like a perfect gentleman. “Hey, baby, how are you doing?” Stacy McNeil asked with the same sweet voice that expressed she had been missing me. “I’m doing fine and you?” I replied.

“I’m doing great. I’m happy that you had call me,” Stacy McNeil said flatly. “Anyway, why did you take so long to call me, baby?” Stacy McNeil added. As Stacy McNeil called me her baby, my head didn’t only get big, it sank in a big ocean. “I’ve been very busy lately, although I’ve been thinking of you. Even when I’m in my sleep,” I said. “Ooh my god, you’re so sweet, Sorrow,” Stacy McNeil said. “You’re driving me to a wild fantasy,” she added. Damn, bitch, you got games too, I said in my mind. “So what are your wild fantasies?” I asked. “Uhmm . . . baby, if I tell you, they wouldn’t be a secret. So perhaps I would rather tell you when we are at the right place,” Stacy McNeil said with a sultry voice. The sound of her voice would lure a ma’fucker quickly into the bed if she was a prostitute, na’mean. I stayed on the phone for about twenty-five minutes with Stacy McNeil. Before we ended our conversation, I was happy that she had agreed to go out on a date with me. I was praying that if I could have her open up more of her secret life to me like the way she did the first time I had met her, then I could use her to clean up the loot in Uncle Mike’s secret cache through the bank that she owns, na’mean. At 1:45 p.m., after I had fully dressed up, I heard Dino and Kurrency honing for me. I quickly slipped my Timberland boots on and then began to lace the shoestrings, na’mean. I was wearing a black hoodie and black Dickies pants. My black fitted cap was on point as I pulled it down to my brows. Above that, I was wearing black leather gloves to conceal my fingerprint, na’mean. Uncle Mike had told me that sometimes, fingerprints could lead to a conviction. So I made it my business to start wearing gloves all the time whenever I hit the street. After I had checked myself out in the dressing mirror, I was satisfied with the way I was looking, na’mean. I knew Knowledge ought to conceal his dirty act to get to where he was aiming at in the game. That shit is like the saying, “Protect your neck to avoid jail.” When I had finally stepped outside to meet Dino and Kurrency, I said, “Yes,

sir . . .” as I saw Dino and Kurrency in a white CL-500 Benz. At that time Kurrency ed a smile that exposed his gold teeth. “What’s up, bruh?” Dino said immediately as I hopped into the backseat. “What’s up, son?” I replied as I glanced around the interior of the CL500. “What’s up, Sorrow?” Kurrency said and then stretched his hand for a dab. “Son, is this your new baby?” I said, meaning if the CL-500 Benz is Kurrency’s ride. “Yeah, you know I got to represent for the family. 2 Raw–2 Die 4 Life,” Kurrency said. “Bruh, I saw this ma’fucker the other day at the dealership, and I had to snatch it up,” Kurrency added as he pulled out a blunt of weed he had rolled up. “Son, this ride is tight, na’mean. I love this ma’fucker word up,” I said repeatedly. “’Preciate that, bruh. This ride is my wife. You know what I’m talking about. This ma’fucker got night visor monitor, wooden gray butter seats with a simulated smell of a brand-new car. You feel me, bruh?” Kurrency spat with a brag. As we followed the direction on the business card Gloria had given to Dino the other day, when we were at Knowledge’s party, Kurrency had us listening to T.I.’s “Rubber Band Man.” The sound system in his car was superb and ultra modern. We had the sunroof opened to feel the mixture of the cozy wind and the soothing air blowing from the air conditioner of Kurrency’s ride, na’mean. Twenty minutes later, we pulled in into Knowledge’s warehouse. There were all kinds of luxurious cars parked like it was a car dealership at Knowledge warehouse, na’mean. Yo, this ma’fuckers working for Knowledge got to be making a lot of money, I said in my mind as we stepped out of the car. After we had checked in with the security, some pretty chick with a nice appearance approached us. She was dressed in a casual wear. The black pant she had on outlined her considerable curves, and the white short sleeves on top of her gorgeous ebony skin made her breast irresistible to the eyes, na’mean. “Hey,

y’all. I’m Ms. Patra,” she said as she shook Dino’s hand first. “Good to see you, Ms. Patra. I’m Dino,” Dino said. “I’m Kurrency,” Kurrency chimed in. When it get to my turn, I shook Ms. Patra’s hand and said, “Call me C or Sorrow.” I tried to give people my name less as I could, na’mean. After we had finished introducing ourselves to Ms. Patra, she led us to the shiny laminated-wood conference room and then told us to have a seat. About two minutes later, Knowledge walked into the conference room with a smile. His movements were charged with electricity as he walked into the room. “What is happening, brothas?” Knowledge said as he glanced at Dino and Kurrency. “I you two very well,” Knowledge added, meaning that he knew Dino and Kurrency very well. “I’m Sorrow. It is a pleasure to meet you, Knowledge,” I said and then shook Knowledge’s hand. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Brotha Sorrow,” Knowledge said as he sat down. His voice was raspy, and on top of that, he was dressed in a tailor-made shirt. His mustache was neatly trimmed and he wore a low hair cut, na’mean. While we were in the conference room with Knowledge, he told us the whole activities in his warehouse. He specified that his warehouse is a distribution company that does all kinds of stuff for the street guys. “We distribute anything that would help us to make millions,” Knowledge said as he stood up. “So, brothas, come with me so I could show y’all around this fabulous warehouse,” Knowledge added with a refreshing smile, na’mean. As we walked on the long and narrow hallway, we encountered some of the guys that work for Knowledge. Some of them were throwing the peace sign at us and then kept walking, while the one’s that stopped gave us a dab and then told us to select their unit, na’mean. The first unit we entered was F, which stands for fraud unit. There were about twenty people in there when we walked into the unit. Every one of them was busy watching up counterfeit monies, except the unit manager, who had approached us as soon as we walked in. “Brotha C-Note, this is my new arrivals. Would you please give them a quick rundown about your unit,” Knowledge said in a charming manner.

“My name is C-Note as you guys have heard. We do less of a major work in this unit,” C-Note said and then continued as we took steps to view the entire unit, “As you can see right now, we wash, dry, and package the containers for shipment. On a regular day, we ship about five to eight hundred boxes to various locations. Our main customers are in Vegas,” C-Note added. “No one is left behind here. It is a team work, brothas,” Knowledge chimed in. “Yeah, no one is left behind in this unit. We make a lot of money in this unit. I would consider and encourage y’all to choose this unit,” C-Note said as he began to shake our hands after his final words. After we had left the fraud unit, we entered into the D unit, which stands as the dock unit. The dock unit, as it is written, is built like a hall. There were tenwheeler trucks and ten pickup trucks at the back entrance of the unit. The unit manager of the D unit is Jungle. Jungle didn’t say much about his unit. He told us basically what his unit does, which is transportation, na’mean. In my mind, I knew Jungles had sensed that we weren’t interested in his unit because he knew there’s no way a young ma’fucker like us would want to drive one of those ten wheelers or pickup trucks for long hours, na’mean. As soon as we had left the dock unit, we headed to the C unit, which stands for sports car unit. There were twelve people in that unit as we stepped in. The unit manager of the C unit approached us quickly when he had noticed that we were in his unit. He was a white guy with many tattoos tatted in his arms like Tommy Lee, na’mean. “Brotha Buck. This is my new arrivals. Could you please show us around your unit while you explain what your unit does?” Knowledge said. “Okay, y’all, the first thing we do in this unit when a new guy chose our unit is to test his driving skills. We have all kinds of sports utilities in this unit,” Buck said. “Every member of this unit is trained to be a die-hard rider. We stay on the road most of the times to convoy, distract, and shoot at the cops whenever they try to intervene in any a mission carried out by the other units,” Buck added as we walked into the sports cars arena. Inside the arena, there were about twelve custom-made sports cars and bikes. I had to tip my hat at Knowledge because each unit we had been to are functioning together into one organized crime family, na’mean. As we stepped out of the C unit, we headed to the P unit, which is the drug unit. The unit manager of the P unit approached us and then shook our hands while he introduced himself as Killa. Killa’s body structure was burly. His chest was broad, and his arms look like he had been lifting up weights. And above that,

Killa stood about six foot four tall, na’mean. As Killa began to show us around his unit, he didn’t speak too much. I guess he expected that we had already known about drugs. He kept his speeches short and that shit reminds me of what Uncle Mike had told me when he gave me the rules of the street game: “Say a little to say more.” As Killa led us into a large storage room, he said, “We usually keep certain number of workers in this unit for personnel reason.” “Speak up, brotha,” Knowledge chimed in with a praise. “We have eight rooms attached to the main storage room. I know it is not a luck that brought y’all down here to this warehouse. We do business very secretly, so what y’all heard is unheard and what y’all see is unseen,” Killa said as he opened one of the storage rooms that was attached to the main large storage room. My heartbeat went up to the roof. As soon as I saw brick of dopes stacked up to the ceiling at the storage room that Killa had opened, “Goddamn,” I heard Dino say in a low voice. “This is what we do in this unit—drugs. We control about twenty states with this shit. We are still building a dream,” Knowledge said. “This is it, baby, Dream Squad,” Killa chimed in with a laugh as he shut the storage room. On our way out of the P unit, Killa encouraged us to choose his unit. He knew he was standing in front of some solid ass nigga. And that made me believe that he had anticipated that we would choose his unit because drugs is the common substance that most average street hustlers get their hands on, na’mean. The last unit we checked out was the R unit, which stands for the robbery unit. The unit manager’s name is Dro, the same guy that Dino and Kurrency had robbed after they had placed a heated fork on his nut sack, na’mean. He didn’t recognize Dino and Kurrency as they shook hands with him, although it has been a while since they had robbed Dro and that was before I had met Dino and Kurrency, na’mean. Dro was sporting a black expensive Gucci jacket on top of a crispy white T-shirt, black jeans by Sean John, and a pair or leather Adidas kicks. He was looking fly and clean. As Dro began to show us around the R unit, he introduced some of his unit crew to us. Every member of the R unit wore expensive clothes. They definitely looked like money, na’mean. As we stepped into the arsenal room, my mouth was wide open as I saw the guns

that were neatly displayed on the rack. There were about a hundred and eightyfive guns in the room, na’mean. Any guns you could think, from UZI, AK 47, M16, and AR15 to TEC-9, were all stacked up, on the rack. “This how we do it. Dream Squad military style,” Dro said as he picked one of the AK 47. “Y’all know that Knowledge is my first cousin and I would kill for him,” Dro added with a gaze. “Talk to me, Brotha Dro. We all we got don’t we?,” Knowledge chimed in as we slowly began to head out of the arsenal room. After we head finished checking out the R unit, we headed back to the conference room with Knowledge. When we got there, we sat down on the plush leather seat. At that moment, someone knocked on the door. “Come in, Sisita Patra,” Knowledge said as Ms. Patra walked into the conference room with four bottles of champagne in a wine bowl. She smiled at us and then placed the champagne bottles on top of the mahogany table, beside the gold frame of the legendary king Midas, who was given the power to turn anything he touched into gold. “Thank you, Sisita Patra,” Knowledge said as Ms. Patra motioned toward the door. “You’re welcome,” Ms. Patra replied as she closed the door behind her. “Okay, brothas, I would like to give y’all a little clip about my wife. Her name is the game. It’s a long way, brothas, since I’ve been married to the game,” Knowledge said with a grin. “And I’ve been faithful to her. I’m not a selfish husband. I had let my brothas fucked her. And I’ve broken bread and then shown love to my soldiers in the game. Now listen carefully, brothas. Once you’re in, the game requires loyalty, respect, and honor,” Knowledge added as he kept his eyes on us. He was smart as he appeared to be, na’mean. “We appreciate the opportunity you had presented to us. And we would like you to know that we are here to add something to this organization you had built. We are not just here to receive, and I guarantee that our actions would speak for itself. Again, we void any betrayal. We uphold our commitment to you till death take us apart,” Dino said intelligently. “Dead before dishonored, baby,” Kurrency chimed in with a smile. “I’m proud of you, guys. This is what I’m talking about. I love this shit,” Knowledge said with a smile. “So have you guys considered which unit to choose?” Knowledge added. “Yeah, we had thought about it. And we have made our minds to the

robbery unit—that’s our specialty,” Dino said. “So how much money are we talking about?” Dino added without hesitation. Knowledge smiled and said, “Depends on a specific task at hand, but at the end of the day, everyone in this ma’fucker makes more money than a doctor or a lawyer.” As I listened to Knowledge, I knew we were in the right place. “That’s a lot of money,” I said. “Yes, it is. You are talking about millions of dollars, Sorrow,” Knowledge remarked. “Everything you had said is clearly understood. And I want you to clearly understand us, Knowledge—” Before Dino could finish his sentence, Knowledge interrupted him and said, “What is it that you want me to understand?” “I know that you knew what me and my partners do. By the way, that’s how we had met you. We are professional robbers, and it is plain simple. You know what I’m talking about. Since we had met you, our motto hadn’t change. We have our own clique, and it is just three of us sitting in front of you,” Dino said. “We’re glad to be part of your family, but at the same time, we cannot break our motto. I want us to have an understanding about it because we are train to go,” Dino added. “Brotha Dino, could you state what y’all motto is ’cuz I do respect every motto as long it doesn’t screw or mess up my money,” Knowledge said with a sincere concern. “Our motto is plain simple. It is kill or be killed. We only use it when we feel there’s no alternative for us to escape in any operation that requires no killing. At that moment, we no longer follow the instructions that the commander of that operation require from us,” Dino said respectfully. “Brotha Dino, I’m with you on that,” Knowledge said smoothly. I know in his mind that he was thinking of how crafty we had thought our way out, na’mean.

Before we bounced out of the conference room, Knowledge called his cousin Dro to the conference room to alert him that we had chosen his unit. During that moment that Knowledge had us smoking his special Cuban Cohiba cigars, as we popped the four bottles of champagne that Ms. Patra brought to the conference room.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Roll with Me

At 1:55 p.m., after I had gotten off the phone with Stacy McNeil, I sat on the bed and then began to roll a phat blunt of weed. My weed habit was becoming uncontrollable, na’mean. After I had finished rolling the blunt of weed, I left it on my bed to pick up some outfit from my stacks of clothes in my closet, na’mean. After I had picked up my outfit, I walked straight into the shower for a nice bath. It took me about fifteen minutes to shower up. After that, I began to get ready to pick Stacy McNeil up for the date she had promised me. At 2:30 p.m., I was on my way to Stacy McNeil’s crib. I followed the address she had given me on the phone. As I was heading toward I-85 North, I began to feel good about the date, na’mean. At that moment, my head was spinning with all kinds of thoughts about the things I would do to Stacy McNeil after I had fucked the shit out of her sexually and mentally, na’mean. I pulled into Stacy McNeil’s mansion in Uncle Mike’s old ride. Stacy McNeil’s address was easy to locate at Dunwoody, west-east of Atlanta. On the facade of Stacy McNeil’s mansion stood a black 745 BMW, a black Audi A8, a black Cadillac SUV, and a white Mercedes-Benz. As I walked toward the front door of Stacy McNeil’s mansion, two heavy-set white guys approached me. Both of them had earplugs in their ears at that time. I brushed my burner on my waistline with my hand just to feel it, even though I knew I could feel it hanging on my waistline. “How are you doing, Sorrow?” one of the two heavy-set guys said. “I’m Bryant. It is nice to meet you again,” Bryant added as we shook hands. At that moment, my mind drifted back to the white guy that had stopped me when I wanted to approach Stay McNeil at Knowledge’s party. “Hey, Sorrow, I’m Mr. Pears,” the other heavy-set guy said as we shook hands firmly. Damn, this ma’fucker knew my name. Stacy McNeil’s loose mouth sings a lot like parrot. I knew she had to be the one that had told her bodyguards what

my name was. “Mr. Sorrow. Mrs. Stacy McNeil will be here in a minute. She’s aware that you are here, but first we must make sure there’s maximum safety around her,” Mr. Pears said. “Son, I do not understand what you mean, na’mean. What are you trying to address, Mr. Pears?” I said as I gazed at Mr. Pears. “Be easy, Mr. Sorrow. What Mr. Pears is trying to address is that it is our job to protect and ensure that Mrs. Stacy McNeil is safe at all cost. It is a regular procedure, and we have to make sure that you are not carrying a concealed weapon while Mrs. Stacy McNeil is around you,” Bryant explained. “Son, this shit doesn’t make sense. I’m not leaving my burner with y’all, na’mean,” I spat. “We are not asking you to leave it with us, but we suggest that you leave it in your car,” Mr. Pears said. “Like I had said, we are just doing our job to protect Mrs. Stacy McNeil, so don’t take it as an offense,” Mr. Pears added. “Aight, what is understood doesn’t need explanation,” I said as I began to contemplate on what to do, na’mean. Right at that moment, Stacy McNeil stepped out from her mansion and then began to walk toward us. She was wearing a white short-sleeve blouse and a white skirt. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail style that allowed the cargo hat on her head to hang mildly low to her left side. “What is going on here?” Stacy McNeil said with a raised brow. “How are you doing, Sorrow?” she added with a bright smile and then turned to face her bodyguards. “We are having a little problem, ma’am,” Bryant said. “What is the problem, Mr. Bryant?” Stacy McNeil asked. In my mind, I knew she had sensed that something was wrong when she saw her bodyguard and me staring at each other. “Mr. Sorrow has a concealed weapon and—” Before Bryant could finish up with his sentence, Stacy McNeil interrupted him.

“Don’t worry about it. Mr. Sorrow would be just fine with it. He’s a responsible man,” Stacy McNeil said as she motioned toward me and then held my left arm. “I’m delighted that you’re here, Sorrow,” she added with a smile. “I’m excited to spend some time with you,” I replied as we walked toward my ride. When we got to where I had parked my ride, Stacy McNeil suggested that we should use her tinted 745 BMW. In my mind, I was glad she said that because I wanted to ride in that ma’fucker, na’mean. On our way out of Stacy McNeil’s mansion, my heart began to beat heavily. Yo, you need to stay calm. You got everything in control, I said in my mind as I headed to Buckhead, Atlanta. I was so nervous because I’ve never been to a date, na’mean. And even though I did, I couldn’t the day or the chick I had gone out with. “I like your outfit, Sorrow. You look awesome,” Stacy McNeil said with a stare. “Thank you for the compliment, Mrs. Stacy McNeil. You look beautiful in that sexy dress you’re wearing. And I must it it, I would rather choose it rather than choose a box of diamonds,” I said smoothly. “Uhmm . . . Sorrow, you’re blowing my mind,” Stacy McNeil said as she leaned back and planted a kiss on my cheek. “That’s a million-dollar kiss, huh?” I said with a joke that made Stacy McNeil smile, na’mean. As Stacy McNeil and I kept making silly remarks, her cell phone began to ring. She glanced at the touch screen and said, “Excuse me, Sorrow. This is my secretary.” Stacy McNeil smiled at me as she touched the Talk button. “Hello, Vicky,” Stacy McNeil added. I was glad that Stacy McNeil’s secretary had called because I needed a little time to recollect my plans for the date. As I tried to ignore Stacy McNeil’s conversation with her secretary, she began to dig her hand into my pants and then started to massage my dick, na’mean. By the time I had pulled into McDonald’s on Peachtree Street, Stacy McNeil had gotten off the phone. She apologized for being on the phone, na’mean. That shit made me feel good like I was Stacy McNeil’s husband. As we stepped out of the

car, I felt like a superstar that was rolling with a multimillionaire business mogul. At that moment, I noticed Stacy McNeil smiling like she was on some pills. “I love the way you smile, Mrs. Stacy McNeil. I wanna know why you’re smiling?” I asked as we stepped into McDonald’s. “I’m completely astonished. You’re so huge. You’ve something that every woman wants in bed,” Stacy McNeil said, meaning that my dick was huge when she was massaging it, na’mean. “Thanks for the compliment. I always hit a home run with it on the bed,” I said with a brag. Meanwhile, I was expecting Stacy McNeil to say something to me like “I don’t want to eat here” when we had stepped into McDonald’s. After we had ordered our meals, Stacy McNeil walked to the seat in the corner and then sat down. While I waited for our order to be fixed, I ordered the new spicy chicken sandwich combo with a supersized Coke, while Stacy McNeil ordered a plate of salad, a cheeseburger sandwich, and a cup of water, na’mean. About fifteen minutes later, Stacy McNeil and I had devoured our meals and then began to converse. In the middle of our conversation, the manager at McDonald’s walked toward Stacy McNeil with a bunch of fresh white roses. “Excuse me, this is for you,” he said as he handed the fresh white roses to Stacy McNeil. Stacy McNeil stared at me for a minute. “Huh . . . Sorrow, I’m sorry I don’t want to ruin this date. Ooh my god, I don’t know who this guy is,” Stacy McNeil said with a pause as she began to read the card that had come with the roses. After she had finished, she stood up and then hugged me with a kiss. “Thank you, baby. I love you. You’re so thoughtful,” Stacy McNeil added. The white roses had come from me, na’mean. I had told Uncle Mike to drop the roses off to Mr. Ellenwood, na’mean. Mr. Ellenwood is the manager at McDonald’s and had agreed to the roses to Stacy McNeil after I had told him what my plans were. “So do you like the roses?” I asked. “If I liked it?” Stacy McNeil exclaimed. “Baby, I love it,” she added.

“You’re beautiful just like the roses,” I said and then planted a kiss at Stacy McNeil’s hands. “Ooh my god, I’ve never had a good time like this for a while,” Stacy McNeil spat. “So, baby, do you have a girlfriend?” Stacy McNeil added as she kept her gaze at me. I felt like she had just punched me in the stomach. “Can we talk about that later?” I replied. “I’m sorry, baby. If that question means a lot to you, I’m just concerned ’cos I care about you,” Stacy McNeil said blindly. “I do care about you too. Your question doesn’t change the way I care about you,” I said flatly. I knew I had to play the good-boy lover to accomplish my mission, na’mean. “Can I ask you a question ?” I added. “Yes, you can, baby,” Stacy McNeil replied. “Do you like female strippers?” I said boldly. I knew Stacy McNeil would answer my question ’cuz her demeanor expressed that she could get down to a nasty conversation, na’mean. “Yeah, I like female strippers. I don’t discriminate,” Stacy McNeil responded. As I thought about Stacy McNeil’s respond for a second, I had to think about it because some females dislike what the female strippers do. They look at the female strippers like they’re some low trifling ass females. “So why do you like female strippers?” I asked Stacy McNeil as she caressed my hand. “I figured you would ask me that,” Stacy McNeil shot back at me with a smirk. “Word,” I exclaimed. “I think female strippers are regular people like anyone else out there working nine to five. Does that answer your question, baby?” Stacy McNeil said. Her answer was straight from the heart, and I respected her opinion, na’mean. It made me feel good that she didn’t look down at female strippers. “Yep, that answered my question,” I replied.

“Guess what, Sorrow, I really thought you wanted to strip for me. I like male strippers. What do you have to say about that?” Stacy McNeil said cunningly. I smiled at Stacy McNeil and said, “You know what, I had figured you would ask me that.” “Ooh, really?” Stacy McNeil said with a smile. Right at that moment, I knew she had sensed that I had used the same psychological pun she had used on me when she said that she figured that I would ask her why she’d liked female strippers. “So what’s your word on that?” Stacy McNeil added, meaning if I would strip for her at a private place. “I would love to, but I think I got somebody that would do it better than me,” I replied. “Ooh, I see. So when would this happen?” Stacy McNeil said with enthusiasm. “At your request, mummy,” I shot back at Stacy McNeil. Meanwhile, in my mind, I was glad that Stacy McNeil was falling into my trap. “Okay, lemme see. What about tonight?” I suggested. “Yeah, I want it tonight,” Stacy McNeil said. “Baby, if you could get it done, I promise you, you’re the perfect gentleman that I had ever met,” she added. At 7:45 p.m., Stacy McNeil and I headed to Stroker’s Strip Club, located at Decatur, eastside of Atlanta. When we got there, Bryant and Mr. Pears pulled in close to us in a black tinted Lincoln Town Car. I cursed at them in my mind when I saw them. I felt like they were mes the reputation that I was trying to build with Stacy McNeil, na’mean. “Why are your bodyguards following us?” I asked Stacy McNeil with a faze. “Baby, they’re protecting me and you. So relax. I know I hadn’t told you that I’m worth three hundred and eighty-five million in cash,” Stacy McNeil said. “So it’s hard to see it in your own point of view. You know what I mean,” Stacy McNeil added as we stepped out of the car. From that moment, I knew I had to stop telling her that we don’t need her bodyguard, na’mean.

“Baby, do you know I’ve never been to the strip club before?” Stacy McNeil said as we stepped into Stroker’s Strip Club. “So are you excited?” I asked. “I’m little bit nervous,” she replied. “I usually don’t feel comfortable when I’m too close to strangers. You know what I mean,” Stacy McNeil added. “Don’t worry about it. You will be okay while I’m by your side,” I said as we walked into the VIP section. “A beautiful woman like you deserve to experience things like this,” I added. “It is beautiful in here,” Stacy McNeil commented as we sat down at the VIP plush seat, na’mean. As the DJ began to play “Shake It Like a Salt Shaker” by Ying Yang Twins, some female strippers that look like Lisa Ray, from the movie The Players Club, approached us. “Hey, how are y’all doing?” she said with a beautiful smile as she stood in front of me. “My name is Princess. Can I treat for y’all tonight?” she added. Princess’s body was gorgeous from head to toes. Her hips and thighs looked beautiful and smooth. “Sure, Princess, you can treat us. By the way, my name is C,” I lied. “This is Mrs. Stacy,” I added as I poured Stacy McNeil a glass of Moët I had ordered. “How are you doing, Mrs. Stacy?” Princess said as she sat down beside me. “I’m doing just fine, and you?” Stacy McNeil said with a pretty smile. “Work, work, and work,” Princess responded with a smile as I handed her a glass of Moët. “Thank you, C,” she added. At that moment, I felt the tender touch of Princess’s double D set of titties. “Mrs. Stacy, is this your first time here in Stroker’s?” Princess asked as she sipped her glass of Moët. “Yes, it is. Actually this is my first time ever in a strip club,” Stacy McNeil remarked.

“Ooh yeah,” Princess exclaimed with a raised brow. “It is exciting once you get used to it,” Princess added. As we began to kick with Princess, some fine-ass stripper approached us and said, “Hey, y’all.” She was beautiful and thick like the tennis player Serena Williams. Damn this chick is bad,” I said in my mind as I stared at her heavenly built body. “What’s up, Brandy?” Princess said to the heavenly built stripper. “Girl, I’m just checking if you need me to help entertain,” Brandy spat as she flirted her heavenly built body around me. “Girl, you know this are my peeps and they don’t do it how we do it,” Princess lied. I know she was trying to kick Brandy to the curve, na’mean. “Girl, it is all good. Holla at me if you need me,” Brandy said as she walked away. “I’m sorry about that sweetie.” She gets on my nerves sometimes. I can’t stand that bitch,” Princess spat immediately as Brandy had walked away. “Ooh, I love the song. Do you want me to dance for you?” Princess added as I was about to light up the blunt of weed that I had rolled up at the crib, na’mean. “Wait a minute, Princess, I think that question right there is my call,” I said as I leaned toward Stacy McNeil and then puffed the blunt of weed about three times. I held the smoke in my mouth and then kissed Stacy McNeil with a wet kiss. I made sure that she inhaled the smoke in my mouth as we kissed. Once I had completed my mission. Stacy McNeil started to cough mildly while a stream of tears rolled down from her eyes. Slowly and gently, I licked the tears off Stacy McNeil’s cheeks before they hit the floor. “Uhmm, baby, I’ve never met a guy like you,” Stacy McNeil said as she placed her hand on top of my head. “There will be never a guy like me,” I shot back at her. “Do you know why I licked the tears off your cheek before they hit the floor?” I added. “Because you love me,” Stacy McNeil replied. “Yes, I do love you,” I lied, “but that is not why I had licked it. I licked it to

show you that I wouldn’t allow anything to happen to you. I’ll be always there to hold you down. It is a symbol that would let you know that I’m by your side to lift you up whenever you slip,” I added. In my mind, I knew Stacy McNeil was soaking the flame of fire coming out of my mouth. “Uhmm, baby C, your words are making me to cum right now,” Princess chimed in as she caressed my leg. “Thank you for the compliment, Princess. I’m here to give you and Stacy McNeil a good time,” I said as I leaned back and kissed Princess’s titties. “Uhmm . . . that is awesome,” Princess said. “Hope Stacy doesn’t mind?” Princess added. “She’s cool with it. Why don’t you return the favor to her?” I shot back at Princess. “Would she be comfortable with it?” Princess asked as she slid closer to Stacy McNeil. “If that’s what my baby wants, I’m comfortable with it,” Stacy McNeil said with a smile that flagged she was down for whatever I said, na’mean. Before I knew it, Princess began to caress Stacy McNeil’s breast. After that, she started to lick it with a sultry ion all over and all over, na’mean. As I watched princess performing a foreplay act to Stacy McNeil, all kinds of thoughts began to run through my mind. At that moment, I felt like I had the gift of the gab. I felt like God was showing me that I’ve the gift to persuade women to do whatever I wanted them to do, na’mean. As soon as the DJ switched the record to “Let’s Get Away” by T.I., Princess began to shake her phat ass at Stacy McNeil. Slowly and steadily, Princess began to open up her legs wide to expose her shaved pussy. Once she had finally opened her legs to the full extent, she stuck one of her finger into her pussy and then began to stare at Stacy McNeil with seductive eyes. The look on Stacy McNeil’s eyes at that moment expressed that she was being seduced by Princess, na’mean. Without hesitation, I slid closer to Stacy McNeil and then started to push two of my fingers slowly into her pussy. When Princess noticed what I was doing to Stacy McNeil, she got down on her knees and then began to throb Stacy McNeil’s pussy clit with her tongue. “Uhmm, yes . . . yes. Ooh, yeah,” Stacy McNeil began to moan while she closed her eyes About three minutes later, Princess finally began to go hard at Stacy McNeil.

She was licking the shit out of Stacy McNeil’s pussy like lollipop, na’mean. “Yes . . . ooh yeah. I’m cumming.” Stacy McNeil clinched her hair with her both hands. Her mouth was wide open as the sensational pleasure she was deriving from Princess drove her to the point of highest height “Yes . . . I’m cumming. Please don’t stop,” Stacy McNeil begged as she clinched her legs against Princess head. Gaining her position back, Princess began to raise her head up, away from Stacy McNeil’s private area. When she finally got to her feet, she began to lick her lips in a circular motion after she had consumed every drop of Stacy McNeil’s cum.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

The Gwap Move

The next day me, Dino and Kurrency were at the warehouse with the of the robbery unit and the sports car unit. At 7:25 a.m., we gathered together in the situation hall to go through the robbery operation moves before the setoff time, na’mean. Dro was the chief commander of the robbery operation. Everybody in the situation hall sat quietly to listen to him as he stood in front of the two units to detailed the operation moves. As Dro began to make his speeches, he held onto the reconnaissance map. I could tell his mind was truly into the robbery operation, na’mean. “Y’all know the most dangerous hit is done in the morning,” Dro said with a joke just to fill the situation hall with an air of bravery. As soon as Dro had made his little joke, he cleared his throat and then added, “Aight, let’s go back to business ’cuz time is ticking.” “That’s what I’m talking about,” one of the of the C unit chimed in. “Bruh, I’m with you on that,” Dro spat as he proceeded with his speech. “The ETA for our target is 9:45 a.m., and the estimated time to depart [ETD]is 9:50 a.m. The dismantle zone [DMZ] will be on call. So everybody should listen up for the call on your CB radio,” Dro said with a pause and then looked around the room to make sure everyone was paying attention to what he was saying. Once he was satisfied that everybody was paying attention, he continued, “Buck, you and your men would hold the back position for my men.” Buck nodded his head toward Dro and said, “You got our back, Dro.” Buck tipped off a strong affirmation, na’mean. Buck is the manager of the C unit. Their job is to convoy, distract, and shoot at the cops whenever the other units at the warehouse are carrying a crucial operation, na’mean. After Dro had finished going through the operation moves, everybody in the situation hall began to shake hands with one another like we had won the super bowl championship ring, na’mean.

At 9:42 a.m., we were at the five-point station right by downtime of Atlanta. Me, Bulldog, and Dino were in the back of a tinted van, while Kurrency drove the van toward Marrietta Street. On the other side of the street at the four-way traffic, Dro, J. Rod, and Killa were in a tinted van, waiting to alert us when our target is on sight, na’mean. At that time, Buck and his crew were strutting down the street on their bikes. “Eight o eight pose 4,” Dro said in his CB radio. “Go ahead, pose 4,” Bulldog replied. “T9 five, target is on the way,” Dro announced. “Eight o eight pose 4, copy,” Bulldog replied as we began to cock our guns, na’mean. By the time we began to put our ski mask on, the CB radio each of us had in the van began to crack. “Eight o eight pose 6,” Dro said. “Go ahead, pose 2,” Buck shot back on the other end of the CB radio. “Stand by, pose 6. Pose 4 is ready to dismantle,” Dro confirmed. “Eight o eight pose 6 copy all zone cleared,” Buck responded. At that moment, we were behind the armored truck that was heading to the bank. From the tinted van, we could see the armored truck heading to our targeted zone. As soon as the armor truck began to approach the red light on Peachtree Street, Dro radioed, “DMZ, DMZ, pose 4,” meaning it is time to dismantle the armored truck. Without hesitation me, Dino and Bulldog jumped down from the van and then began to open fire on the armored truck like a firecracker, na’mean. Meanwhile, on the other hand, Dro was positioning to drop a rocket-propelled grenade launcher on the armored truck. Boom, boom . . . rat-a-tat-tat. The armored truck came down, colliding all over two cars, and then came to a complete stop. The sudden hit of the grenade bomb caused a confused mass of shock to the massive number of people around that area. “T-9-4, go, go, go,” Dro yelled out. As he, J. Rod, and Killa backed us up, at that time they shot, canisters of tear gas in the air to make some of the eyewitnesses back off from the scene. Without hesitation, I rushed to the front of the armored truck to wet the driver and his partner on the enger side up with my burner. When I got there to the front of the armor truck, both of them were dead. The head of the driver of the armored truck was hanging on the driver’s side window. The other two guys at the back of the armored truck were unconscious. Their choppers were by their side as blood gushed out of their body like a faucet. Seeing both of them dying in a miserable moment, without hesitation, I fired up three slugs to each one of them and then ed Dino and Bulldog to haul the last bag of money into the van.

As the police siren began to blare down the street, we were on our way out of the scene, heading toward our escape route. “Eight o eight, pose 6, are we covered?” Dro said on the CB radio. At that moment, he was in the other van with J. Rod, and Killa kept “Eight o eight, pose 2, you’re covered,” Buck replied as two police cars began to accelerate opposite our direction. By the time the two police cars realized they were caught off guard, it was too late. Buck and his men opened a wild range of gunfire at them. “Bang . . . bang . . . rat-a-tat-tat . . . bang, bang” was the sound I was hearing as we drove past Buck and his men. In a blink of an eye, one of the police cars screeched to a halt and then ran into a building while the other police car was getting laced up with bullet holes, na’mean. By the time we had made it the escape route, Dro radioed Pusha, “Eight o eight, pose 8, are we covered?” Pusha and the two other member of the C unit were posting at the spot where we had parked off our getaway ride, na’mean. “Eight o eight, pose 2, all zone’s are cleared as for now. I’m hearing the police siren blaring up my way,” Pusha remarked. “Eight o eight, pose 8. You’re copied. Be on the stand by. We are on our way to you,” Dro said. By the time we got to where Pusha, Wolf, Crazy-Leg, and Mike were, things got ugly. Bullets were flying in the air like it was raining. “Go, go, T-9-3. We got y’all covered,” Pusha said as we pulled beside our getaway jeeps. “Bang . . . bang . . . boom . . . rat-atat . . .” was the sound I was hearing as Pusha, Wolf, Crazy-Leg, and Mike kept busting at the cops that had squad up on the other side of the road. I spotted two cops lying dead as we hopped into our getaway jeeps after we had hauled the bags of money into the jeeps. “Eight o eight, pose 4, 6, and 8. Pose 2, announce mission accomplished. I repeat. T-9-9,” Dro spat as we began to head toward I85 North.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Balling Outta Control

I was happy like a ma’fucker after I had found out that the Atlanta Police had no suspect on the armored truck hit, na’mean. That shit made my mind gloom like a fluorescent light bulb as I sat on my bed beside the two million dollars I had gotten from the hit. As soon as I had gathered the loot in one pile, I dialed Dino’s cell phone. His phone rang about three times before Dino came to the phone. “What’s up, bruh?” Dino said. “Yo, shit is lovely like Bahamas. You know what I’m talking about,” Dino added. I could sense that he was excited. “Yo, what the word?” I asked. “Bruh, I had just got off the phone with Kurrency. You know what I’m talkin’ about,” Dino spat. “We’ll be at your crib to pick you up for the Dream Squad baller status tonight at Magic City,” Dino remarked. “Son, you know how I get down Dream Squad is for them niggas at the warehouse. We represent 2 Raw–2 Die, na’mean,” I said. “Bruh, I feel you on that, but check this out. You know we are about to start getting major money with dem niggas, so when they’re representing, we got to show them some homeboy love. You feel me?” Dino pushed. “Son, I feel you on that. Just get at me when y’all ready, aight?” I said. “Aight, bruh, be ready at 10:00 p.m. on the dot,” Dino said. “Aight, son,” I said and then hung up. As soon as I had hung up the phone, my cell phone began to ring. I checked the caller number. It was restricted. “Yo, who is this?” I said as I hit the Talk button. “This is Esha,” Esha said on the other end of the phone. It has been a while since I saw or talked to Esha. For some reason, I felt she was dodging my phone calls when I had wanted to speak to her, na’mean.

“Yo, why are you calling me on a restricted number?” I said with a vex. “You haven’t been answering my calls, me stupid bitch,” I added. “Don’t you ever call me a bitch,” Esha shot back at me with a hostile voice. “Bitch, what did you just say?” I asked. “Nigga, you heard what I had said,” Esha said and then continued, “Look, Sorrow, I didn’t call you so you can call me a bitch. Anyway, I called you because I want to tell you to stop calling my phone.” “Word,” I exclaimed. “Yo, Esha, what the fuck are you talking about?” I added. “Sorrow, I’d been waiting to tell you that—” Esha paused for a second. “Sorrow, I love you, but I think you’re too much for me. “You want . . .” I’m saying, you love the street more than you love me. I cannot control or tell you what to do. I guess me and you have different understanding in our relationship. One of us wants something that the other doesn’t want. So I decided that it would be better that we stop seeing each other,” Esha added. I listened to Esha attentively without interrupting her. Being the nigga that I am, I said, “Yo, Esha, I’ve been thinking about the same shit. You’re right when you said that I love the street than you. I’m not disappointed that you had just found that out. By the way, I choose MOB, meaning money over a bitch.” “That’s okay, Sorrow. I wish you the best in life,” Esha spat back at me and then hung up. Esha’s last word soaked in my mind as I had begun to put the money up into the duffy bags. By the time I had finished, Uncle Mike walked into my room and said, “Your auntie called. She asked about you.” “Word, what did she say?” I asked. “Want you to call her,” Uncle Mike replied. “Come on, let’s get this money down to the secret cache,” Uncle Mike added. Fifteen minutes later, after Uncle Mike and I had hidden the money with the rest of my money inside the secret cache, we sat down at the basement and smoked a blunt of weed. At 9:45 p.m., after I had finished dres for the Dream Squad baller’s status, I called Auntie Monique. Her phone rang about three times before she answered. “Hey, son, how are you doing?” Auntie Monique said. I could sense that she was happy that I had called, na’mean. “I’m doing fine, and you?” I said. “I’m doing okay. Ooh my god, you had spent a lot of money for that diamond necklace and watch, Jacob,” Auntie Monique said. In my mind, I could picture how happy Auntie Monique was. “Auntie, I do appreciate the love you had showered on me. That love is more expensive than that necklace and watch,” I

said smoothly. “Ooh my god . . .” Auntie Monique said and then began to weep. “Auntie, don’t do that. We’re straight your son had made it,” I said. “Thank you, my son. Just make sure you stay away from trouble,” Auntie Monique said with a word of encouragement. “I will auntie. If you need anything, don’t hesitate to call,” I said. “Okay, baby, take care of yourself,” Auntie Monique said. “I will,” I replied and then hung up. Five minutes after I had finished speaking with Auntie Monique, Dino horned for me. Before I walked out of my room, I checked myself out in the mirror, na’mean. I was wearing my favorite New York throwback jersey on top of a crispy white T-shirt, blue jeans by a Roca Wear, a fitted hat, and black Gabbana shades to conceal my eyes, na’mean. I was looking fly as usual. I walked outside looking like a million-dollar baby. My platinum chain swung left to right as I approached Dino and Kurrency in Kurrency’s CL-500 Benz. “Yo, what’s up,” I said as I hopped into the backseat. “Bruh, you know how we do. It is poppin’ tonight,” Dino said as we dabbed each other’s hands. “Word, what’s good, Kurrency?” I said as Kurrency began to pull off his ride. “Bruh, it is the same ol’ shit. You feel me?” “Yo, son, fall back to the crib,” I said at once. “Yo, I think we should ride on Uncle Mike’s ride,” I added. “Hell ‘n’ naw,” Dino and Kurrency said in one unison form. “Son, we need to ride in a low key, na’mean. Uncle Mike’s ride is aight, son. We got off easy on the armored truck hit. We don’t need no attention, na’mean,” I said as I began to reason to Dino and Kurrency. “Bruh, I feel with you’re saying,” Dino said as Kurrency began to back off. “Bruh, whatever y’all wanna do, I’m down with it,” Kurrency said. In my mind, I knew I was right. We don’t need no attention. Finally, we pulled into Magic City Strip Club like a cigarette boat. We were looking clean and fresh, na’mean. There were mad, beautiful female strippers as

we stepped into the club. That shit was live and appealing. As we strut down to the VIP section, we met Dro, Killa, Bulldog, Pusha, Fly-G, Paperboy, Crazy Leg, and Mike. We greeted every one of them with Dabs and brotherly hugs. At that moment, there were beautiful-looking strippers around them. After I had glanced around the VIPs, I noticed that Knowledge was not at the scene to celebrate with us. The only thing I could think of Knowledge at that moment was that he was good at what he does, na’mean. In my mind, I knew sometimes that’s how it is. The boss would send out his soldiers to get the spotlight while he stays missing in action from the public. As the thought of Knowledge not being with us start to fade out of my mind, Dro approached me, “What’s up, Sorrow?” he said as he sat down close to me with a bottle of crystal. “Son, is all about the Dream Squad,” I spat just to know what Dro thought about the Dream Squad baller’s night. “Bruh, this is how we do it. It ain’t fun and good if you don’t spend that millions in the bank ,” Dro remarked as he lit up a fresh-cut cigar. “Word,” I exclaimed as I grabbed a bottle of Hennessy from the table. There were all kinds of exotic drinks on the table at that moment, na’mean. “Bruh, you can’t spend a million dollars when you die, so you might as well do it like big Willie style,” Dro added as gorgeous strippers approached us. “Hey, big daddy,” one of the strippers said with a baby voice. “I’m diamond,” she introduced herself as she sat on Dro’s lap. “You mean, you’re the diamonds on my wrist?” Dro joke as he flashed his presidential Rolex watch in the air. “Uhmm . . . big daddy, you’re so hilarious,” Diamond remarked and then glanced at me to see what I was looking at. At that moment, I played it off like I was not paying them no mind. Slowly, I turned my face toward Dino and Kurrency as they were making it rain with the rest of the Dream Squad. “Ayo, Shawty, make dem ass clap” Bulldog said out loud to one of the stripper. “Make dem ass clap for my partners. This is Dream Squad, bitch,” he added as six gorgeous strippers stripped around them. For some reason, I wasn’t feeling

the vibe. I wasn’t feeling the atmosphere around me so I tried to maintain like everything was cool. Before I knew it, I turned my attention toward Diamond and Dro. They were still conversing. “Damn, Shawty, you’re thick as a motherfucker. You know what I’m saying,” Dro said. “Thank you, big daddy,” Diamond said with a smile as she crossed her arms around Dro’s neck. “Yo, Diamond, why don’t you show a brotha what you working with?” Dro spat as he pulled out a stack of crispy hundred-dollar bills and then dropped it on the table like it ain’t nothing. The sound of Usher’s “Yeah,” featuring Lil John and Ludacris, blared from the speakers as Diamond stood up to give Dro a lap dance. Her banging body was starting to make my dick hard as she positioned her stunning legs to give Dro a lap dance, na’mean. As I sat on the plush couch with a glass of crystal, Uncle Mike’s words began to ring in my ears: “A man’s flamboyant ways is the beginning of his downfall.” As that words rang in my ears, I noticed some black stocky guy dressed in a black suit. He was staring at us from the VIP entrance. Something in my mind tells me that the stocky black guy was a cop because I could read his body language from a distance. I didn’t worry about him approaching us because I knew the bouncer at the VIP entrance wouldn’t allow him into the VIP room, na’mean. It is a baller status for the Dream Squad, and we had bought the VIP out for the night. As I kept my eye on the stocky guy, I noticed him walked away. Right then, I knew the bouncer didn’t allow him to step into our circle. Five minutes later, my legs began to tremble as I was getting a lap dance from Kibba. A gorgeous Filipino chick that looks like the R&B singer Beyonce. “Damn, Curtis, you’re so huge right there,” Kibba said to me as she felt the hardness of my manhood. I lie to Kibba that my name was Curtis Black because I do not want her to call me Sorrow. “I ’preciate that compliment. I’ve heard that comment several times,” I said to Kibba. At that moment, Kibba had stopped rubbing her soft phat ass on my dick and then began to massage it with her hand. “So you’re the ladies’ man, huh?” Kibba said, meaning that I ought to been dealing with bunch of females to receive that compliment.

“Naw, I’m just me, na’mean,” I shot back at Kibba. As she glanced at Dro, who was getting his dick sucked by Diamond, “Ain’t that your peeps,” Kibba said and then pointed to Dro. “Yep,” I said at once. “Ooh my god,” Kibba said and shook her head. “Yo, what are you trying to say?” I asked. “Is something wrong with a brotha getting a blow job,” I added with a joke. “Naw, it ain’t like that. That is my homegirl, Diamond,” Kibba said coyly. “I just want your peeps to be nice to her,” Kibba added with a smirk. “Yo, stop fronting, Kibba. I know you like that shit. Do you want to get down with my partner?” I said as I pointed to Dro. “Boo, if you take the D away from down, you’re left with own, which means you own the call,” Kibba spat cunningly. “Word, I’m feeling that. So me and my peeps versus your friends, ain’t that right?” I said as I gulped down my drink. “You had just said the word,” Kibba said with a strong confirmation. In my mind I know Kibba knew that we were caked up with mad loot, na’mean. Every member of the Dream Squad, including Dino and Kurrency, was looking fly like a ma’fucker. Someone could tell that we all got major bread because we smell like money. As Kibba and I continued to kick it, she began to open up the diary of her life to me. She told me that she is in college at Clark Atlanta, majoring in human resources. “Things were becoming hard for me, so I had to get a easy job right here to make fast money for school,” Kibba said with a remark. “Yo, I dig that, na’mean. Sometimes you gotta do what is best for you. You feel me,” I said to Kibba. As she kept staring at me with a seductive look, during that moment Diamond had walked out from the VIP section. “I’ll be right back, Curtis. I need to freshen up for you, baby,” Kibba said as she whispered into my ear and then licked it. At 5:25 a.m., we bounced out of Magic City with eight of the strippers. Every

member of the Dream Squad was driving in a big boy toy, na’mean. Dro was pushing a black H2 Hummer with thirty inches bling-bling rims made by Asanti Wheels, Bulldog got his hands on a pearl white CL-500 Mercedes-Benz, Pusha was stunning hard on a gray Audio-A8, Fly-G was pushing a yellow Lamborghini, Killa was spinning hard on a tinted BMW-7 series, while Paperboy, Mike, and Crazy-Leg drove together in a Yukon Denali that was sitting on thirty inches Ginnovan’s rim, na’mean. As we darted through I-78 East, the eight strippers from Magic City were driving behind us in their own ride, na’mean. We exited at Stone Mountain Exit and then made a left turned that took us straight down to Dro’s crib. I was dumbfounded as we pulled into Dro’s glass mansion that seated on a hilltop. The lawn on the glass mansion was neatly trimmed, and the two-side walk that connected to the marble steps was perfectly treated with the blossom flowers along it edges. Above that was a shallow pool with polished agate gravel, situated on the corner of the mansion, na’mean. At the facade of the glass mansion, Dro parked his fleet of black Bentley Coupé, a Range-Rover, a white BMW, and golf cart rollers. “Yo, this is my rides,” Dro said with pride as we walked toward his big boy toys. “This is also my crib. I bought it two years from my cousin, Knowledge,” he added. “Uhmm . . . big daddy. I like your crib,” Diamond chimed in with a smile. “Yeah, I know you like it. I like it too. It is expensive motherfucker,” Dro remarked as he glanced at the rest of the strippers. They all look dumbfounded at that moment, na’mean. When we got to where Dro parked his fleet of rides, he navigated us to step into his golf carts “Yo, I want to show y’all something that y’all might not expect in this motherfucking crib,” Dro said as he took a seat in one of the golf carts. At that time, I assumed that Bulldog, Pusha, Fly-G, and Crazy-Leg knows what Dro was speaking about because they were smiling after Dro has completed his sentence, na’mean. Five minutes later, we pulled up close to some towering trees and bushes located at Dro’s glass mansion. As we stepped down from the golf carts, Dro led us to a building with a steel-gate entrance. He punched in a code on the box that stuck up into the building. Slowly the gate began to open backward with a rattle sound. At that moment a loud roar of a wild animal echoed out from the building. “Ooh my god, what is that?” Kibba jerked up and then clinched onto my left arm. “Hell ‘n’ naw, I’m not going in there,” one of the strippers said and then began to

walk away, na’mean. As we stepped into the building, I saw two dangerous creatures in a cage staring at us. “What a fu . . . k,” I muttered and then tried to hold my composure. My eyes were wide open as I stuck my nose up in the air, na’mean. I know I wasn’t the only person that was caught in the mix of the surprise. Dino and Kurrency were looking like they had been hit by a baseball bat as they stared at the two creatures. “Yo, these are my lions,” Dro said with a grin. “See, I do it big all the time. Some of these motherfuckers been bragging with pit bull, German shepherds, and rottweiler. I keep lions, not dogs,” Dro added. As soon as Dro had finished bragging about his dangerous creatures, one of the lions roared with a fierce look that exposed his carnivore-eating teeth, na’mean. During that moment, Dro and Bulldog walked out of the building. Three minutes later, they walked in with a she-goat. “Yo, it is time to feed these motherfuckers,” Dro spat with an excitement. “I spend nearly fifty G a year to feed these motherfuckers,” he added as he pressed the button on a metal box that was built into a wall. After pressing the button on the metal box, a large rectangular steel cage that was built against a long rod began to emerge out toward the cage that the two lions were placed in. “Yo, this she-goat is about to get dismantled,” Bulldog said as he led the she-goat into the rectangular cage. “Yeah, nigga, it fixing to be a bloodbath,” Dro added in a relished manner. After Bulldog had successfully placed the she-goat into the rectangular steel cage, Dro hit the red button on the metal box. Immediately the rectangular steel cage began to incline to the top surface of the cage that the two lions were placed in. Once the rectangular steel cage got to the top, slowly it began to penetrate into the opened surface on top the cage. At that moment the two lions were staring at their prey with a relished mood, na’mean. As the rectangular steel cage hit the ground level, Dro pushed the green button on the metal box. In a split second, the rectangular steel cage opened up flat in a manner, disposing the she-goat to the lions. In one unison form, the two lions yanked at the she-goat and began to tear the she-goat apart. One of the lions crushed the she-goat by the neck, while the other lion tore the she-goat by the midsection of the she-goat with his saber teeth. “I can’t stand this shit. This is too much for me,” Kibba said to Lisa and then began to motion toward the entrance gate of the building. At that moment, four

of the strippers had begun to walk away with a terrified mind, na’mean. Lisa was the only stripper that stayed and watched the lions devour their meal. “Yo, this shit is crazy,” Lisa said as she glanced at me. I ignored her comment and then lit up a cigarette. I knew Lisa was checking me out from the get-go. She had been diggin’ my swagger since we had picked them up from Magic City Strip Club, na’mean. “So what do you think about my crazy lions, Lisa?” Dro said to Lisa and then walked closer toward her. “I know this is some crazy shit,” Dro added with a smile. “Naw, I think you guys are the ones crazy. I’ve been to dogfights several times. And I haven’t seen crazy shit like what you had just put on. It is crazy, but on the real, I do not give a fuck!” Lisa itted. As I listened to Dro and Lisa’s conversation, I stared at Lisa with a quizzical look. She was fine like the R&B singer Alicia Keys, and her demeanor is gangster, na’mean. Finally after we had watched the lions devour all of their meal, we headed back to Dro’s glass mansion with the strippers. When we got there, Dro led us straight to his laced-up basement. “Ladies, y’all make yourself comfortable. If any of you is hungry, there is food in the kitchen. I’m sorry for the inconvenience, ladies. My chef has a family problem, and he has gone out of town,” Dro said as he gestured to the basement kitchen. “Y’all know what I’m talking about ’cuz I do not do the cooking stuff. I got a chef,” Dro added. At that moment, I was glancing at Dro’s fabulous basement, na’mean. That shit was laced up with a golden-frame fish tank, standard pool table, a bar with exotic wines and liquors, a Baccarat crystal chandelier, a round plush couch, and a fifty-two-inch plasma TV with home theater accessories, na’mean. As we began to make ourselves feel comfortable, Kurrency approached me. “Bruh, this nigga Dro is doing it big in this motherfucker. You know what I’m talking about. We need to step our game up for real,” Kurrency spat. “You feel, bruh?” he added. “Son, I feel you on that,” I replied as I glanced at Fly-G. He was at the bar doing the bartender shit for the strippers.

“Yeah, bruh, we got to do what we got to do, to step our game up. Anyway, I’m fixing to wrap up with that fine-ass stripper, the one in the blue jeans. Her name is Angela,” Kurrency said smoothly. “Bruh, that ass is banging,” he added and then began to motion toward Angela. During that moment, the rap song “So Fresh, So Clean” by Outkast was sounding the fuck out of the surround system. The atmosphere in the basement had an aura and was appealing. The revolving chameleon light made the basement look colorful and charming to the eyes, na’mean. As Kurrency headed to the bar to kick it with Angela, Lisa began to approach toward me with a smile. She was holding a glass of drink in her hand. Her smile was so attractive and enchanting like her ebony skin. She wore black tight-skin clothes that show her body curves. “What you smiling at?” I asked Lisa as she made it to where I was. “You,” she shot back at me. “Me, ooh, I see. So you love to smile a lot,” I said cunningly. “Why was you staring at me like that at the lions’ den?” Lisa remarked. “Yo, I was staring at you ’cuz I like your eyes and I can feel them in my heart,” I lied as Lisa gulped down her drink. “Ooh my god, you’re flattering me,” she spat quickly and then placed the glass of her drink on the table. “Fuck all that shit. I want to fuck you right now. My pussy is wet just by talking to your fine ass,” Lisa added in a seductive manner. Without hesitation, I took Lisa by her hand and then led her into one of the basement rooms. As soon as we walked into the room, Lisa began to take her clothes off. “Damn, Lisa, I haven’t seen beautiful set of titties like yours, na’mean. They’re attractive,” I said as I began to pull my pants down. “Ooh yeah, they’re double D size,” Lisa remarked as she thrust herself onto the king-size bed and then began to spread her leg’s up in a missionary position. “Come here and give it to me,” she added with a gush feeling as she rubbed her pussy area in a circular motion. “Yo, I like my dick to get suck first,” I said as I motioned toward Lisa with my hard dick.

“Okay, big daddy, you can do whatever you wish,” Lisa spat in a sultry voice and then grabbed my manhood. Slowly and steadily, she began to suck my dick in an upward and downward manner. When she got the tip of my manhood, she licked it and then used her other hand to massage my balls. I swear that shit feels so good like a ma’fucker. Na’mean. “Yo, slow down, ma’. I ain’t trying to burst a nod right now,” I said in a low voice as I placed my hand on top of Lisa’s head. The sensational feeling got me to where FedEx couldn’t reach, na’mean. As Lisa continued to suck my manhood, Kibba intentionally walked into the room. I knew she was watching me and Lisa early before we walked into the room. “Ooh . . . my bad, y’all. I walked into the wrong room,” Kibba said. I knew she was lying. The look on her face flagged that she was mad at Lisa for getting down with me. “See y’all later,” Kibba added and then walked out of the room. Finally, after Lisa had finished giving me a blow job, she hopped on top of my dick and then began to take a joyride. She placed her both hands on my chest as she began to pound her pussy on top of my dick. Her phat ass clapped repeatedly on my thighs as she beat her pussy on my nine-inch dick. “Ooh yeah. Damn . . . boo, you feel so good inside me,” Lisa said in a sultry voice. At that moment I had to think of something applicable and aphrodisiac to say to Lisa while she had begun to moan. “You like this dick, don’t you?” I said as Lisa moans began to increase. “Yes, yes, I like it. Ooh yeah, baby, uhmm . . .” Lisa said at once. “I know you do. You ain’t getting this dick no more unless you paid for it,” I said flatly. At that moment, I was feeling like I was about to cum. “Ooh yeah, ooh yeah. I would pay you . . .” Lisa began to moan out loudly as she pounded her pussy on my dick faster as she could. “Ooh baby, I’m cumming baby, yes, yes . . .” Lisa locked her pussy clit on my dick and then exhaled. Slowly she began to grind her pussy on my dick.

“Ooh shit . . . fuck,” I repeated and then began to nod on Lisa. “Uhmm . . . baby, you had made me multiple cum several times,” Lisa remarked as she got off me to wipe the drips of her cums, na’mean. “Don’t worry about it ’cuz you ain’t getting this dick no more unless you’re paying for it,” I said sarcastically. “Ooh, baby, don’t say that no more. You don’t know what I’ve been missing. I’m not sex starving. It’s just that every brotha I had fucked couldn’t fuck me till I reach my climax,” Lisa remarked. “Curtis, I’m yours. You can fuck me whenever you want. Don’t take this big ol’ dick away from me or make me pay for it like you had said,” Lisa added with seductive eyes. As soon as Lisa began to tell me how much she needed my dick and why she couldn’t afford to pay how much I wanted her to pay, I knew she was lying. “Yo, Lisa, you got good game. I’m kicking it with you on some different shit that we both can benefit from one another, na’mean,” I said as I gazed at Lisa. “Aight, baby, that’s cool with me as long I’m by your side,” Lisa replied immediately. On my way out of the room with Lisa, my mind drifted to Kibba. I knew her feeling was crushed when she had saw Lisa in action, giving me a blow job. She felt like Lisa had crossed her out, na’mean. As soon as I got to where the rest of the strippers were at, they were on the plush carpet floor, regaling their selves like they were in a porn flick. Every one of them were finger fucking and licking each other’s pussy, na’mean. Bulldog was recording the play with a Concorder, while Fly-G and Paperboy poured bottles of crystal at the strippers. At that moment, Dino and Kurrency were nowhere to be found. The only thing I could think of when I didn’t see Dino and Kurrency was that they might have been fucking the shit out of Angela in one of the rooms because she was not there either. Speaking of Lisa, she got my eyes wide open like a butterfly’s wings. She didn’t hesitate when she saw her homegirls regaling. In a blink of an eye, she ed in and then began to eat one of the strippers pussy.

“This is Dream Squad motherfuckers,” Dro said in front of the camera. “We get money like the Arabs. Yo, Sorrow, tell these motherfuckers how we do it,” Dro added as he crossed his arm across my neck. Luckily, at that moment I had my fitted hat down my brow. “Yo, Sorrow, let this pussy ass nigga know how we do it,” Bulldog chimed in. In my mind, I knew exactly how it goes when a ma’fucker start running his lips in front of the camera and then get locked up for the things he had said, na’mean. As I thought about the things Uncle Mike had told me when he gave me the rules to survive the street game, I said, “Son, if you’re looking or watching this tape, best believe it this is how it is done son. Dream Money Squad. This is how they do it word up,” I said rationally in order, not to incriminate and implicate myself. “Yo . . . y’all heard what my nigga Sorrow said. Dream Squad, motherfuckers. For those of you who don’t know what Dream Squad means, get it in your head. It is drug rules everything around me, baby. This is how we do it,” Dro said as I walked away from the camera. With a splint of a second, as I headed to the bar, Pusha approached me. “Yo, Sorrow, your dawg Dino is in the restroom fucked up. Man! I don’t know if it is the drink or the yayo that got your partner trippin’. Anyway, I just wanted to let you know since I kick it with y’all niggas. In this game, you got to stay alert especially when the cheddars begin to pour in. You feel me?” Pusha said with a word of advice. I knew he was ironically saying that my partner Dino should not change or cling to new habit when he had started to get major paper. “Bruh, like I had said, get your partner’s mind right. You heard? Snorting cocaine ain’t for everybody,” Pusha added. “Son, your words is understood, na’mean,” I said as I dab Pusha. “Anytime, bruh,” Push responded and then walked back to the bar. After the little conversation with Pusha, I walked straight to the basement restroom. At that moment, I was mad that Dino had let himself slipped off and then get down with the Dream Squad to snort the cocaine that was on the glass, table na’mean. When I had finally gotten to the basement restroom, I saw Dino throwing up on himself while he lay flat on the restroom floor. “Son, stop the bullshit” I said with a vex. “Son, you’re fucking up, na’mean,” I added as I motioned toward Dino and then held onto his arm. “Bruh, I’m—,” Dino said with a pause.

“Son, how the hell you let dem niggas talk you off to snort that shit. Son, you got cocaine residue all over your fucking nose,” I spat as I helped Dino to get back on his feet. “Bruh, I’m . . . damned. I had fucked up. I only snort about four lines. Yo, where the strippers at?” Dino said and then stumbled a little bit. “Son, you’re looking crazy right now, na’mean,” I said and then continued, “Son, I’m about to take your ass home. Fuck the strippers. I can’t let you walk around like this.” “Bruh, I straight. I had been drinking crazy all night,” Dino remarked. “Yo, clean yourself up. We’re about to get the fuck away from here,” I said as I handed Dino a washrag. After Dino had finished cleaning up, I gave him my tank top because he had food residue all over his clothes. As we headed out the restroom door, I grabbed Dino’s left arm as he staggered repeatedly on our way out of the restroom. When we finally made it to where everyone else was, Kurrency approached us. “Bruh, is Dino okay? I heard he was in the restroom throwing up,” Kurrency said with a gesture. “Son, he aight. We need to take his ass to the crib, na’mean. This shit is over word up,” I said and then looked up at Dro. He was approaching us with a plated-gold plate of cocaine that he was snorting. “Dream Squad, baby. What’s happening with Dino?” Dro asked with a grin. “Son! Dino had a stomach operation, na’mean. He’s not suppose to be drinking,” I lied just to cover up for Dino, na’mean. I don’t want Dro thinking that Dino is a lame. “Son! We are about to hit the crib,” I added as I stared at Dro. He quickly looked away as he was about to chuckle. I knew he had sensed that I was covering up for Dino. “Aight, bruh, y’all be careful. I’ll holla at y’all at the t,” Dro said, meaning that he would see us at the warehouse, na’mean. About thirty minutes later, I pulled into the front yard of Dino’s crib. Kurrency was dozed off through the whole drive. Dino managed to stay awake as I pulled

up in his crib. “Son! I see you’re feeling good like a ma’fucker,” I said to Dino as he bobbled his head slowly to the sound of Yung Joc the rapper that sang “It’s Goin’ Down.” “Yeah . . . yeah man . . . I feel like that Yayo fixing to get me crunk up,” Dino spat. “Son! You really need to cut that bullshit out. Son, that shit you did was crazy, na’mean. We’re on this shit together, and you don’t need to get down snorting cocaine with Dream Squad, na’mean. That shit is for Dro and his partners,” I said and then paused. “Son, you need to cut that bullshit, and let’s get to the money. You feel me? I mean the weed is good as far that I know, but the other shit, we leave it alone for Dro and his partners,” I added, hoping that Dino would really understand what I was saying. “Yeah, bruh. I know you’re right. Everything is everything, you feel me?” Dino spat as we dabbed hands firmly. “Bruh, I’ll catch up with you later, aight?” Dino added and then proceeded to step out of the car. At that moment, a portable homemade DVD case that says Niggas and Hoes fell out of Dino’s jacket. Dino ignored it and then kept moving. I picked it up at once and then toss it into my glove compartment.

* * *

Detective Richardson, known as the bull hunter, had been the only one in the C-8 unit that had always taken his time to bring down drug dealers for justice. His move is pragmatic and unpredictable. At 8:15 a.m., Detective Richardson sat in his C-8 unit office, rummaging dozens of files. Based on the information he had received from Agent Bernard Coleman last six months ago, concerning the agreement that Murder would testify on Knowledge for his involvement in the killing of two Atlanta DEA agents during a drug bust in Atlanta, Detective Richardson hated that his team of investigators couldn’t get what he needed to bring down Knowledge and his accomplices to justice. He hated that he had to wait an extra two months to bust Knowledge. Although Detective Richardson has never be the one to rush for a bust, the election had his mind for

the rush. He wanted it so bad. He wanted a revenge; he wanted the bust to gain a promotion for the election. Once Detective Richardson had found the file he was looking for, he leaned back in his revolver chair and then smiled. Just as he thought about opening the file, a voice cracked out from the scanner radio. It was Detective Brown on the other side of the radio. “Go ahead, Detective Brown. This is Detective Richardson,” Detective Richardson said. “Sir, we have the targets on a surveillance. They’re with a group of female strippers from Magic City. Sir, at this moment, they’re in Dro’s residence. The other three guys, Dino, Kurrency, and the other tall guy—we couldn’t get his fingerprint to get his identification—together they had just left Dro’s residence,” Detective Brown stated. “Sir, the guy we couldn’t get his identification is very secretive. He wears gloves and his fitted hat stays low to his brow,” Detective Brown added. He was referring to Sorrow. “Goddamn it, Detective Brown. What does this son of a bitch look like? There’s nobody going away free from my wrath. I want him to go down just like everyone else. Do you hear me, Detective Brown?” Detective Richardson said in a cynical voice. He was pissed off that his team of investigators couldn’t get any physical evidence to get hold of Sorrow. “Sir, I’m on it,” Detective Brown stated. “Good. Now you may relieve yourself and your men. Call off all surveillance till next week,” Detective Richard said calmly.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

The Roll 2 DA Bank

The next day, Uncle Mike and I sat in the living room, kicking it like we always do. I watched Uncle Mike lit and puff the blunt of weed he had rolled up. “So how is the house business shit rolling, Unc,” I asked Uncle Mike as he ed me the blunt of weed that he has just lit up. “Ahh, boy, it is rolling just fine. By next week, you would have two more houses ready for sale. Right now, your four houses are rented,” Uncle Mike remarked. “One of your tenants is talking about rent to own which is a huge profit for you,” Uncle Mike added. In my mind, I was so excited that Uncle Mike got my business rolling good like he had planned. Na’mean. Maybe one day, I could be the Donald Trump of the black people. “Yo, Unc, I’m feeling what you had just said. You the best, Unc. My words of thanks wouldn’t be enough thanks. I’m lucky to have someone like you to guide me, na’mean,” I said as Uncle Mike listened to me attentively. “You don’t owe me no thanks. I want you to be successful. Now that you’re on top of the game, it is the best time to stop what you’re doing while the game is good to you,” Uncle Mike said. “Listen to me, son. Precaution is better than cure. You got a whole lot of money saved up, so it is now you must stop hugging the street.” Uncle Mike's words sounded like a warning. I knew I was too deep into the game, and it is hard to stop when you had begun to get the reward that crime pays, na’mean. As Uncle Mike and I kicked it, I began to tell him how we could clean up my money, na’mean. After I had finished laying down my plans, Uncle Mike pitched in his suggestion before I picked the phone to dial Stacy McNeil’s phone. Her phone rang about three times before she picked it up. “Hello, baby. How are you doing?” Stacy McNeil said with a sweet voice that expressed that I was gone and missing in action.

“Not much. You already know what I’m about, na’mean,” I shot back at Stacy McNeil. At that moment, I was still high from the last blunt of weed I had smoked with Uncle Mike, so my game was on point as me, and Stacy McNeil was about to talk on the phone. “So how are you been doing?” I added. “Work, work, and work. I’m getting ready right now to leave for a meeting in Paris,” Stacy McNeil remarked. “Word, that’s one of the place I would love to check out. I love Paris,” I lied. “Ooh really. I could take you there in my private jet whenever you like. It is a beautiful country, you know what I mean,” Stacy McNeil said flatly. “Thanks for the offer. There’s something I would rather accept instead of that,” I said at once. I had to attack Stacy McNeil immediately since she had opened the door to offer me something. Right then, she made it easier to make my request. “So what do you want, baby? You know I would cut my throat to make sure you have it,” Stacy McNeil stated with a seductive voice. At that moment, I smiled at her boastful remarked. “Yo, I got a couple of millions that I want you to clean up through your bank,” I said crisply. “That’s not a problem, baby. We could do that when I get back from Paris,” Stacy McNeil said. “Baby, I’m trying to take care of business, and I need you to make it possible for me. It has to be done immediately,” I pushed. “I’m sorry, sweetheart, my schedule is tight. But you know what”—Stacy McNeil paused—“I would call my bank and arrange something out for you,” Stacy McNeil added. “Baby, that would be fine with me,” I exclaimed. “So how much money do you have?” Stacy McNeil asked. “I have four million dollars,” I replied. “That’s a lot of money, sweetheart,” Stacy McNeil remarked.

“C’mon, Stacy McNeil, that’s not a lot of money to you. Didn’t you say you worth about two hundred fifty million dollars in cash? So what is four million dollars to that?” I said sharply. “Sweetheart, you’re absolutely right. What a good memory,” Stacy McNeil replied. “Sweetheart, what I mean is that you have a lot of money in cash with you,” Stacy McNeil added. “I’m a businessman, Mrs. Stacy McNeil. I thought you know that,” I said. “You’re, sweetheart. I’ll call my bank as soon as I get off the phone with you. I want you to go to one of my banks at Buckhead. It is called Stacy Trust Bank. Ask for Mike Moore. You wouldn’t miss it. It is located at Buckhead Plaza, sweetheart. I gotta go now, sweetheart. My jet leaves in an hour. So take care of yourself, okay?” Stacy McNeil said. “Baby, I will. Have a nice a trip, aight?” I sounded like a true lover. Throughout the whole time I was on the phone with Stacy McNeil, Uncle Mike was listening attentively to every word I said. “Son, I’m proud of you. As I sit here listening to you, I said in my mind, ‘He’s just like his father.’ Your father was a smooth playa, and you had inherited the gift of gab from him,” Uncle Mike spat with a smile. “’Preciate that, Unc, I wished Dad was here with me, na’mean,” I said in a disappointed manner. “Yeah . . . trust me, I know what you mean. I wish he was here too. He would be really proud of you,” Uncle Mike commented. At 12:01 p.m., Uncle Mike and I headed to Buckhead in a separate car. We were both strapped with 9 mm chrome. Uncle Mike didn’t trust Stacy McNeil, and I couldn’t blame him for that. On some real shit, he wanted to watch my back while I walk into the bank. To me that was some ill shit because that is what family is all about, na’mean. Finally, when we pulled up at Stacy McNeil’s bank at Buckhead Plaza, I parked my ride right in front of the bank, while Uncle Mike blended it with the cars that were parked at the parking lot of Buckhead Plaza.

Just as I was about to step out of my ride, I heard a loud police siren blaring down the street. That shit made me nervous like they were coming for me, na’mean. At that moment, Uncle Mike called me on my cell phone and told me to fall back until the siren dies out, na’mean. Finally, when the police siren, had died, I stepped out of my ride with the four million dollars in duffy bags. I didn’t have to worry about jack boys or any ma’fuckers that would try to get in my way because if Uncle Mike had suspected anything, he would’ve let out shots at the ma’fuckers. And I ain’t got no problem to let out shots either, na’mean. As I walked into the bank, I scanned around the bank with my eyes and then walked toward the customer service area. There were few eyes that were staring at me. But it didn’t bother me because I knew it is just a natural thing that ma’fuckers in the bank would look at you phony, especially when you’re a black ma’fucker. “Welcome to Stacy’s Trust Bank. Can I help you, sir,” a white lady that looked like she was in her forties said with an ugly smile. “Yes, ma’, I’m here to see Mike Moore,” I responded. “Please have a seat. Mr. Mike Moore would be here just a minute to see you, sir,” she said as she picked up a phone and then speed dialed some number. Two minutes later, a short black guy with a spiffy look approached me with a crooked smile and said, “Hello, I’m Mike Moore,” Mike Moore said as we shook hands. “I’m Curtis Black,” I lied. “Good to see you, Curtis. Could you please come with me to my office,” Mike Moore spat as he motioned toward his office. When I got to Mike Moore’s office, he gestured at me to have a seat. His office was completely furnished with office equipment. “So, Curtis, how was your trip to the bank?” Mike Moore said with a stupid question. “What do you mean?” I shot back. “I mean the traffic. It is usually slow by this hour of the day,” Mike Moore remarked. “Ooh, the traffic is fine,” I commented.

“I’m happy to hear that,” Mike Moore said. At that moment I felt he was stalling at me. “Can I get you something to drink?” he added. “Thank you, Mr. Mike Moore. I assumed you know why I’m here. My time is very limited, and I would rather get straight to the business,” I spat with a gaze. “I’m with you on that, Mr. Curtis. I spoke to Mrs. Stacy McNeil not too long. Four million dollars is a lot of money. We’ve been having problems with the IRS. They’re not our friends, but don’t worry about it. I would work out something for you,” Mike Moore said as he browsed on his computer. “I believe you would, Mr. Mike Moore. What is understood doesn’t need explanation,” I said as I opened up the duffy bag. I pulled out three stacks and then handed it to Mike Moore. He smiled as he examined the three stacks carefully to make sure it wasn’t counterfeit. Once he was satisfied that the money was the real paper, the real money, he shook his head and said, “Now we’re talking, Mr. Curtis. Now I have to prepare the paperwork. You have two options, Mr. Curtis,” Mike Moore said and then continued, “Option one, you can have your money deposited into our bank with a gradual process to clean them up. Option two, I can transfer the total of $3.5 million of this bank money to you in any bank you prefer as a mutual exchange for your $4 million.” Mr. Mike Moore’s words hit me hard in the face as I sat opposite him. I couldn’t believe he was charging me a fee to clean up my loot. I knew Stacy McNeil got something behind it. Damn, that bitch is grimmy, I said in my mind. “Okay, Mr. Mike Moore, let’s say I choose option two. Didn’t Stacy McNeil tell you there’s no fees. I had been knowing her for years. I know she wouldn’t tell you to charge me a ma’fucking five hundred G to wash my dirty clothes,” I said with a code because at that moment, I had begun to lose my trust at Stacy McNeil. Mike Moore gazed at me like I’d lost my mind. “I’m sorry, Curtis. There’s a reciprocation fee,” Mike Moore said. “I’m sorry she didn’t mention it to you. But as you know, this is her bank and there’s nothing I could do,” Mike Moore added. “Son, she doesn’t have to. I’ve been knowing and dealing with her for years. C’mon, Mr. Moore, let’s be reasonable,” I pushed. At that moment, I tried to think about Stacy McNeil’s business ethic. There was nothing sheisty that I

could fault or say about her. She was a good hustler. She had hustled me for five hundred G. “Okay, Mr. Mike Moore, I’ll choose option two,” I said finally. “Good choice, Mr. Curtis. Do you have your number?” Mike Moore said and then began to open up a folder, na’mean. After I had given Mike Moore my number in Bank of America, he picked up the phone and dialed some number. After two minutes, some white guy in a black suit walked into Mike Moore’s office. “Mr. Curtis Black. This is my chief ant, James McWorther. James McWorther, this is Curtis Black, a prestigious businessman,” Mike Moore said. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Curtis,” James McWorther said as we shook hands. “It is my pleasure,” I replied and then adjusted myself back into the revolver chair I was sitting on, na’mean. As soon as James McWorther and I had finished exchanging greetings, Mike Moore said, “Mr. Curtis Black, please, could you the money over to James McWorther so we can get things rolling as fast as we could.” I looked at Mr. Mike Moore with a quizzical look. “Son, I’m not ing this loot over to him till I know you have the $3.5 million wired into my ,” I spat with a scowl. “Mr. Curtis, your money is in good hands with us. We have to make sure we have the right amount of money for the transaction. You’re talking about four million dollars, Mr. Curtis Black,” Mike Moore said. “Don’t worry about your money, it is in good hands,” Mike Moore added. “Son, it better be or I would bust a cap in your head,” I said with a steady gaze. “Excuse me, did you say you would bust a cap in my head?” Mike Moore repeated after me. I nodded my head and said, “You heard what I said.” Mike Moore looked at me with a quizzical look and said, “Mr. Cutis, do we have a deal or a threat?”

“Son, the wait is on you,” I said. “Mr. Curtis, we assure you that your money is in good hands,” James McWorther chimed in and then left the office with my loot. Thirty minutes later, James McWorther walked back into the office with empty duffy bags. “So what is the count?” Mike Moore asked James McWorther. He was referring to the money that was in my duffy bags. “The count is four millions dollars,” James McWorther replied. “Thank you, James. You can excuse yourself,” Mike Moore said. “Have a nice day, Mr. Curtis. Hope to see you around sometimes,” James McWorther said to me as he motioned away. At that moment, Mike Moore approached me with a smile and said, “Good business is worth waiting a while. What do you think about that?” he asked with a grin. “Son, I think you should get back to business. You’ve got your money, don’t you? Now I need mine,” I spat. Mike Moore looked at me incredibly and said, “I like your business personality, Mr. Curtis. You’re very brilliant than you look.” “Son, I take that as a compliment,” I said bluntly. Once Mike Moore got back to his seat, he began to type up some shit in the computer. After he had finished typing, he looked at me in a quick second and then walked toward the printer machine that was situated in the corner of his office. “This is your receipt, Mr. Curtis. It has your control number on it, which is your confirmation number,” Mike Moore said as he approached me and then handed the receipt to me. “So when is my money—” Before I could finish my sentence, Mike Moore interrupted me. “Your money

will be at your in about forty-five minutes. We have what we call instant electronic transfer, so that means that your money would be in your immediately after the transaction is processed,” Mike Moore said. “I hope to see you again, Mr. Curtis,” he added. As I walked out of Mike Moore’s office, I called Uncle Mike on his cell phone to let him know that I was on my way out of the bank. By the time I had finally stepped out of the bank, Uncle Mike was posting at the front of the bank. When he noticed how light the duffy bags in my hands were, he smiled at me and said, “Boy, you’re a bad ma’fucker.” “Hey, Unc, I’m just trying to be a bad ma’fucker like you,” I shot back at Uncle Mike as we dabbed hands. “Boy, don’t be a bad ma’fucker like me. You know that I ain’t shit,” Uncle Mike said with a joke. We both laughed as we headed toward Uncle Mike’s ride. When we got to the spot where Uncle Mike parked his ride, I had begun to load Uncle Mike up with what went down in the bank. “That bitch is a cold hustler. Just be careful with her,” Uncle Mike said after I had told him about the five hundred G fees that Stacy McNeil didn’t tell me that I had to pay her for cleaning the loot up. “Yeah, Unc. I feel what you’re saying. Business and pleasure should never be mixed together,” I stated. “I’m glad you know that. Keep that with you always and you’ll be like a grand hustler,” Uncle Mike said with a word of advice. “That’s what she had done to you, so always that some of the women that are rich can be sometimes strict with their money. The least they could do with their money is buy you a few gifts and then spend a few dollars on you to appreciate the horse dick after you had fucked them,” Uncle Mike added. As I listened to Uncle Mike, I knew he was right. Maybe I got Stacy McNeil figured out wrong, but only time will tell. Before I bounced out of the parking lot, Uncle Mike and I stayed at the parking lot, chopping things up. We wanted to make sure that we were close to Stacy McNeil’s bank when we called Bank of America to check if the $3.5 million is

in my , na’mean. “Your current balance is three million five hundred thousand and sixty five dollars,” the automated voice system said after I had called Bank of America’s automated bank system. “Yo, Unc, the loot is in my ,” I said with a jubilant manner. “You’ve done it again. This is how good business should be,” Uncle Mike spat as he shook his head. The smile on his face expressed he was happy as I was. “This one is on me, Unc. I got the weed and the liquor. We gonna celebrate this shit like we have won a lottery, na’mean,” I said. “Boy, call it as you see,” Uncle Mike said. “Aight, Unc. I’ll see you at the crib. I’m about to take care of business from here. I’ll be home on time before your bedtime. I know how you do when it is your bedtime,” I remarked. “Boy, you’re all right with me. Whatever you’re about to do, just be careful,” Uncle Mike said as I stepped out of his ride. Ten minutes later, after Uncle Mike and I had bounced out from the parking lot of Buckhead Plaza, I pulled into the Lenox Mall parking lot. At that time, I had noticed a black tinted Impala tailgating me. “Yeah, ma’fucker, you about to get fry with my gun,” I said in a low voice as I pulled my burner out from the secret compartment. At that moment, the driver of the tinted black Impala had just pulled up opposite me. I flashed my burner at him to let him know that I was strapped. When he saw my burner, he blinked the headlight of his ride at me and then slowly began to pull off, na’mean. Finally, before I stepped out of my ride, I circled the parking lot of Lenox Mall twice to make sure I was safe. Finally, as soon as I had made it into the mall, I walked straight to the record store and then copped the new Gangsta Grillz mixed CD by DJ Drama. After that, I headed to the radio shack and then copped the new PS2 play station with the new Madden NFL game, na’mean. By the time I walked out of the mall, it was about 5:45 p.m. Right at that moment, I know I had to bounce back to the crib to celebrate with Uncle Mike. On my way to the crib, I called Blackboy to cop an ounce of weed from him. Blackboy is one of the few niggas that I respected at the block. I my

first day on the block when Blackboy approached me after he had sensed that I wasn’t from around the hood, na’mean About twenty minutes later, I pulled up on the block right by the liquor store. At that moment, Blackboy was waiting on me in a white SUV Cadillac Escalade. As soon as he saw me pull up at the liquor store, he horned for me and then threw a peace sign in the air. “What’s up, son?” I said to Blackboy as I hopped into the driver side of his Caddy. “Bruh, is the same ol’ shit. I’m just trying to stay on my feet so I could get my money right,” Blackboy spat after we had dabbed. “Son, I’m feeling your whip, na’mean,” I said as I glanced around the interior of Blackboy’s Caddy. “’Preciate that, hommy. I just picked the shit up from the dealership last week. So what’s the deal with you?” Blackboy asked. “Son, I’ve been cool lately, na’mean. Trying to stay up to wake up,” I replied as Blackboy pulled out a Ziploc bag of weed and then handed it to me. I counted a crisp five twenty-dollar bills and then gave it to Blackboy. “Yo, ’preciate that, bruh. That shit you got right there burns like Jamaican’s weed,” Blackboy remarked. “Word,” I said with a quizzical look. “Yeah, man. That shit is straight from my man in South Carolina,” Blackboy said and then continued, “Yo, dawg, I had just got this t at Deck Road that I’m investing on.” “Word!” I exclaimed. “Yeah, bruh, it is a car wash. I bought that t last week. I ma let my lil bruh run that shit for me to keep his bad ass off the street,” Blackboy remarked. “Son, that shit you just did with your money is ill. Ma’fuckers need to start investing, na’mean,” I said. “Bruh, old head told me to stay above the water. Street don’t love nobody you

heard?” Blackboy said as his rose gold teeth shone brightly. “Son, be easy. I’ll link up with you when it is good,” I said as I dabbed Blackboy. “Yeah, bruh, keep it pimping. Don’t forget to check out the t. It is right by the exit on Delk Road,” Blackboy said as he cranked up his ride. “Aight, son,” I shot back as I began to motion to the liquor store. With a split second, as I was about to walk into the liquor store, four cops zoomed off down the street with their siren light on. They were heading toward the street where I reside. I wasn’t worried about them because it is a usual thing in my hood, na’mean. Finally, after I had copped two bottles of Hennessy and a pack of optimum blunt, I hopped into my ride and then began to head straight to the crib. On my way, two cops zoomed out from nowhere and hit the siren light at me. I pulled over quickly and then tucked my burner into the glove compartment. When they got to where I was, they zoomed past me. That shit had me scared as hell because I know I was going to jail if their intentions were to stop me, na’mean. Finally, when I got to the street where I reside, I looked up ahead the street. There were about eight police cars in front of Uncle Mike’s crib. At that moment, there was no turning back. I had to see what the fuck was going on. I know if Uncle Mike was getting bagged, it is because of me. When I got closer to Uncle Mike’s crib, the front door was wide open, and there were cops strutting inside the crib. By the time I had finally made it into the crib, I was dazed when I saw Uncle Mike lying in a pool of blood, right in the living room. I felt like I couldn’t feel my face as I walked closer to Uncle Mike. At that time, two cops tried to stop me. “Yo, ma’fucker, don’t touch me,” I snapped with my fist up in the air. “Yo, Unc . . . yo, Unc,” I added as I knelt down close to Uncle Mike. At that moment, part of Uncle Mike’s body was flinching. Blood was slowly coming out from his mouth. Right then, I knew it was a wrap. “Yo, Uncle Mike, who shot you?” I said as tears slowly began to drop down from my cheek. I moved my head closer to Uncle Mike’s mouth as he began to mutter some words that I couldn’t hear “Yo, Unc, who shot you?” I asked with a curious look. “He said I . . . should’ve not fucked with . . . ,” Uncle Mike said

with a slurred voice and then paused. “Fucked with who?” I said. “Tell me who did this to you,” I added. “Tiff . . . any,” Uncle Mike said in a low voice. “He said I should’ve not fucked with Tiff-any,” Uncle Mike added as both of his eyes slowly began to close. “Take care of my unborn child,” Uncle Mike said with his last breath. “I will, Unc. I promise I would find the ma’fucker that had done this to you,” I said as Uncle Mike gave up to a ghost. At that moment, I felt like I was hit with a sledgehammer. I couldn’t believe that Uncle Mike is dead.

CHAPTER TWENTY

Price to Pay

Uncle Mike’s funeral was like a parade. Everybody from the block who knew him was there to pay their homage. He was like a legend to them, na’mean. Tiffany and Esha were there too. They almost cried their heart out at the time Uncle Mike’s body was finally put to his grave. Three of my partners from different parents were there too—Dino, Kurrency, and G. Baby, na’mean. They stood by my side throughout the funeral. Speaking of G. Baby, he would always be the most real-ass nigga that he was. He flew down to Atlanta in a private jet with his Colombian drug lord. He made sure that Auntie Monique was with them in the private jet as they flew down to Atlanta, na’mean. After Uncle Mike’s funeral, Auntie Monique wanted me to move back to NYC. She felt that I needed a close family by my side. Being the spiritual godly mother that she is, she still believed that I’m still a baby. On one Friday evening, my partner, G. Baby, hit me up on the phone. He told me that his boss, which is the Colombian drug lord, wanted me to his drug ring in Belize, South America. He wanted me to be the one to oversee his multimillion drug distribution in Belize, na’mean. As G. Baby and I talked on the phone, I told him that the offer was too great for me to let go, but the truth is that I was ready to quit the street life like Uncle Mike had told me to. So I had to let G. Baby know what the deal was with that before we hung up the phone. I told him I would think about the offer. About an hour and a half later, after I had hung up the phone with G. Baby, I sat down in the living room and gulped down a bottle of Henny as I thought about Uncle Mike and my plan to smoke the ma’fucker that had taken his life away, na’mean. Later on that evening, Dino and Kurrency called me on the phone. After we had chopped things up, I told them that I was planning to smoke the ma’fucker that had shot Uncle Mike before the night is over. My niggas didn’t hesitate to answer when I had told them to ride with me to find the ma’fucker that had killed Uncle Mike, na’mean.

At 9:45 p.m. that night, we headed to Tiffany’s crib in a black Mustang. When we got to Northside Drive, northwest of Atlanta. I called Lisa’s phone, the down ass stripper from Magic City. I hadn’t talk to her since the day I had fucked her in Dro’s glass mansion. “Yo, bitch, pick your damn phone,” I said in a low voice as Lisa’s phone rang. “Hello,” Lisa finally answered on the other end of the phone. “Who is this,” she added as the sound of Goodie Mob blared on the background. “Yo, who the fuck you think this is?” I shot back to Lisa. “Huh, is this Curtis?” she asked. “Yeah, this is me. Where you at?” I said. “Baby, I’m at the Magic City. Are you coming down here ’cuz I want to treat you tonight,” Lisa stated. “Yo, Lisa, I would love to make it rain on you tonight, but tonight is not the right night. Right now, I need you to come through for me,” I said and then continued, “I know you’re on your grind right now, but big daddy got you, aight?” “Uhmm . . . big daddy, what do you want me to do?” Lisa asked. “I want you to meet me at Westend Mall. When you get there, call me, aight?” I said. “Aight, baby. I’ll call you when I get there, baby. My bills are overdue. I need about two G to keep me straight,” Lisa remarked with a trick to con me for some free loot. “Trust me, baby. I know your bills are overdue. Your game is so tight that’s why I chose you. Didn’t I tell you I ma kick it with you on some real shit that we both can make some dough? This is it, baby,” I said smoothly to outsmart Lisa’s little trick, na’mean. After I had hung up the phone with Lisa, we pulled up right at Tiffany’s apartment building.

“Bruh, what if Tiffany got something to do with your uncle’s murder?” Kurrency said as we stepped out of the car. “Shit, my nigga ain’t no talking then. We just gonna gun that bitch down. You know what I’m talking about,” Dino said. “Naw, not right now. She’s pregnant by Uncle Mike. Uncle Mike wants me to take care of his child when he’s born, na’mean,” I stated as Uncle Mike’s last words before he gave up to a ghost rang in my head. “Aight, bruh, whatever you say. I’m down for it. You heard?” Dino spat. Finally, when we got to the door of Tiffany’s apartment, I knocked on the door. “Who is it?” Tiffany asked. “Yo, this is Sorrow. Open up,” I said. “Ooh my god. Hold on a minute, Sorrow. Lemme put some clothes on,” Tiffany remarked. Minutes later, she came back to the door and then let us in. “Y’all look good. What y’all niggas up to?” Tiffany said with a smile. “Can I get y’all something to drink, besides beer and liquor?” she added. As we motioned to sit down. “Naw, we aight,” I said. “We do not plan to be here for a long time,” I added. “So what brought y’all down to my crib at this time of the night?” Tiffany asked with a gaze. I cleared my throat and then said, “Yo, Tiffany, don’t fucking lie to me. All I want from you is the truth,” I said and then began to tell Tiffany what Uncle Mike had said to me when I had asked him who had shot him before he had given up to a ghost. After I had finished, Dino chimed in, “Yeah, Tiffany, all we want is the motherfucking truth, so don’t play with us or we would—” He paused before he could spit out the word kill. At that moment, tears had started to roll down from Tiffany’s eyes. “Why are y’all coming at me like this, Sorrow? You know that I’m pregnant and I couldn’t

take all this stress,” Tiffany said and then began to cry. “C’mon, Tiffany, you know we ain’t come down here to see you cry. That child in your belly is my cousin. When he becomes a man, he would ask me what happened to his dad, na’mean?” I shot back at Tiffany with a stoic manner. At that moment, I was starting to get ireful. “One more time, Tiffany, tell us. What you know about the guy who shot Uncle Mike?” Kurrency said with a mean look. I could tell he was starting to get irritated, na’mean. Finally, after we had pushed Tiffany to tell us who had shot Uncle Mike, she finally gave up and said, “It’s some guy named Drop.” “Bitch, I know you got something to do with it!” Kurrency exclaimed with a rage. “I don’t have nothing to do with it. Please stop saying that!” Tiffany said with tears. “Drop was mad at me. Because I left him for Mike,” Tiffany added. “Yo, when was the last time you saw him?” I asked. “I’ve not see him for a minute,” Tiffany replied. “So how did you know that he was the one that had shot Uncle Mike?” Dino asked. “Because he had told me that the baby daddy of the child I’m carrying in my womb wouldn’t be alive to see his child born,” Tiffany remarked. “Do you still have his phone number?” Dino asked. “Yes, I do. It is in my caller ID,” Tiffany said. “Yo, you had just said that you had dumped that ma’fucker, so why do you still have his phone number?” Kurrency asked. “Because he kept calling me. One time he was threatening me. I changed my phone number twice and he still has it. The last time he called me, he threatened to kill me if I have my phone number changed again,” Tiffany said. “I was so

scared, so I placed a restraining order on him at the police department. Since then, he stopped calling me, and I’ve not heard from him,” Tiffany added. As I listened to Tiffany’s love affairs, I was discombabulated for minutes. I wasn’t quite sure if Tiffany was telling us the truth. “Yo, Tiffany, you got Uncle Mike caught up with your bullshit. Did you let him know about this shit you’re telling us?” I asked with a vex. “I’m sorry, Sorrow. I didn’t know it would go this far. I would’ve let him know,” Tiffany shot back at me. “Last week I got this e-mail that says, ‘I bet I got your y-b-a-b-y-d-d-a-d,’” Tiffany remarked dryly. “Man, what the fuck are you trying to address, Tiffany? We ain’t come down here to know what your e-mail says,” Dino said. At that moment, Tiffany began to tremble. Her arms were shaking involuntarily as they rested on her lap. “What I’m saying is that I think Drop had to be the one that had e-mailed me. Those letters are words. And they were spelled backward,” Tiffany stated with a pause. “Yo, this is some bullshit,” Kurrency shouted. “No, it is not. Drop e-mailed me saying he got my baby daddy. He spelled baby daddy backward. Can’t you see it?” Tiffany said with a loud voice that expressed she knew what she was saying. “Are you sure that you’re telling us the truth,” I asked. “I’m positive, Sorrow,” Tiffany replied. At 11:25 p.m., we bounced out of Tiffany’s crib. We headed toward Westend Mall to wait for Lisa. By the time we got there, Lisa was just pulling into the parking lot of Westend Mall. As soon as she spotted us, she waved her hand and then pulled closer to us. “What’s up, baby?” Lisa said as she stepped out of her ride. She was wearing tight-skin clothes and stiletto shoes. “Yo, what’s up, ma’,” I replied as I gave her a hug. “Yo, you’re looking good, ma’,” I added.

“Thank you, baby,” Lisa shot back. “Is that Kurrency and Dino in the car?” she added. “Yep,” I replied as Lisa slowly began to walk toward Dino and Kurrency. She greeted them with hug and then walked back toward me. At that moment, I was leaning against Lisa’s ride. “So, baby, what’s the deal, baby? I know you got something good for me?” Lisa said. “Yo, I got this guy fronting on my face. He owns me and he’s bragging about it,” I lied. “Yo, I want to teach him a lesson, na’mean,” I added as I wrapped my arms around Lisa’s waist. “So where he at?” Lisa asked. “Yo, we’re about to find out. He’s a womanizer. I need you to seduce him, aight?” I said as I kissed Lisa on her neck. “Baby, that ain’t no problem. I got that motherfucker for you. I just want to make sure that I get paid for doing that,” Lisa spat with a look that flagged that she was money hungry, na’mean. After I had loaded the setup move to Lisa, I gave her a piece of paper that contained Drop’s phone number. The same paper that Tiffany had written Drop’s phone number for me before we left her crib. “Yo, Lisa, call that bitch ass nigga right now. Yo, don’t screw up, aight?” I said flatly. “I got you, baby,” Lisa shot back at me as she began to dial Drop’s phone number from her cell phone. “Hello, is this Drop? Huh, I can’t hear you. Can you speak a little bit louder?” Lisa said as she gave me a thumbs-up. “Yeah, yeah, my name is Lisa. I met you through Tiffany, and you slick-slid me your phone number. Do you me now?” Lisa asked. “If I don’t know you, do you think I would be calling your cell phone. Well, I will call you back ’cuz you’re sounding like you’re high. Too bad for you. You need to quit smoking that shit ’cuz it’s getting the best outta you. Bye,” Lisa snapped and then hung up on Drop. “Yo, I told you not to screw up. Why did you hung up on him?” I asked in an angry mood.

“Baby, chill out. He would call me back no time soon. That motherfucker is high as the kite. He will be on his knees in a minute before you know it,” Lisa stated with a smile that expressed she knows what she was talking about, na’mean. Five minutes later, Lisa’s phone began to ring. She quickly glanced at the screen of her cell phone. “Baby, I told you he will call back, didn’t I?” Lisa said as she pressed the Talk button. “Hello, yeah this is Lisa,” Lisa said and then paused. “What are mine doing? Huh . . . actually me and my girlfriend Tiny got this little idea about ménage à trois. Do you know what that means?” Lisa said in a seductive voice and then paused. “Ooh yeah, you do. Okay, my girl Tiny is very secretive. She has a boyfriend, and she thinks he’s lame. Anyway, he doesn’t want to get down with the action,” Lisa said and then began to smile. “You’re so funny, Drop. So are you going to make me and my girlfriend Tiny’s fantasy come through? Ménage à trois, baby. Uhmm . . .” Lisa added and then paused. At that moment, I was nodding my head as I listened to Lisa. She has a gift of gab, and on top of that she’s beautiful and thoroughly bred for gangsta shit. “Aight, Drop, we’ll be waiting on you at Motel Six right at the exit of Delk Road in Cobb County,” Lisa said and then paused for a while. “Ooh yeah. So you’ve been to the Motel Six before. I’m glad you know where it is located at. Just call me back on this number when you get there, okay baby?” Lisa added with a kiss as she hung the phone up. “Yo, you’re a bad bitch. I like that,” I said to Lisa immediately after she had hung up the phone. “Uhmm, baby, did I score very good?” Lisa asked. “Yeah, baby, you did very good. So what did that ma’fucker say?” I asked. “Ooh, baby, he’s an asshole. He said he will be at Motel Six in about sixty minutes. So we need to be there before he gets there,” Lisa said and then motioned closer to me. I smacked her phat ass and then said, “Aight, baby girl, let’s do this.” Twenty minutes later, we pulled up at Motel Six at Delk Road. Even though we know Drop couldn’t have made it there before us, we still circled around the parking lot twice before we finally parked. At that time, Lisa had already parked

her ride in a vacant space at the far end of the parking lot, na’mean. As I stepped out of the car to meet up with Lisa, I tucked my 9 mm chrome in my waistline. In my mind, I was so happy like a ma’fucker. I couldn’t wait to smoke Drop’s ass for killing Uncle Mike, na’mean. When I got to where Lisa was, I dug my hand into my pocket and then pulled out a stack of crispy two G and then handed them to Lisa. “Yo, I told your slick ass that I got you, didn’t I?” I said to Lisa. She hugged me tight and then kissed me on my neck. “Thank you, baby,” Lisa said with a smile that expressed that she made more than what she was supposed to make at Magic City Strip Club if she had not come like I had told her to. “Now you had seen what I’m talking about. Money ain’t no problem. All you got to do is just say yes all the time and you wouldn’t lose,” I said as I leaned against Lisa’s ride. “Yo, go get the room before that ma’fucker pulls up in this ma’fucker, aight?” I added as I smacked Lisa’s soft phat ass. “Uhmm, baby, I like that. Nobody’s smacked my ass better than you,” Lisa commented as she walked away toward the front desk of Motel Six. Ten minutes later, Lisa approached me with two sets of keys. The smile on her face was brighter than the early morning sunset. “Yes, baby, I got the right room,” Lisa said as she gave me one of the sets of keys. “It’s 105, baby. The last room upstairs on the second building right there,” Lisa added as she pointed to the building. “Aight, ma’, just play your part and we got the rest. We’ll be in the room at your call, aight?” I instructed. “Baby, you know I got you. Your money is good as your dick,” Lisa commented as she walked away. About twenty minutes later, the sound of Gucci Mane “So Icey” blared in a black tinted Impala as the driver of the Impala pulled up in front of the second building of Motel Six. At that moment, Dino, Kurrency, and I were in our ride, watching the black tinted Impala. “Yo, I think I had seen that ride before,” I said flatly as I stared at the black tinted Impala with a perplexed look. Quickly my mind drifted back to the guy that had tailed me the day Uncle Mike and I took care of business at Stacy McNeil’s bank. “Son, that was the guy that had tailed me all the way to Lenox Mall, and when I flashed my burner at him at the mall parking lot, he drove off,” I added. “So what do you think?” Kurrency asked after I had told him and Dino about the

incident. “Son, I think he was checking to see who the fuck I was word up. He had to be the one that had killed Uncle Mike, na’mean.” “Bruh, we got one way to find out. If his name is Drop, that means he was the motherfucker . . .” Before Dino could finish his sentence, a heavy-set guy stepped out of the tinted black Impala. He was wearing a white T-shirt and black jeans. Soon as he had begun to walk toward the second building of Motel Six, we kept our eyes on him until he stopped and then knocked on room 105. Right at that moment, I knew it was a wrap. All we got to do is wait for Lisa’s phone call, na’mean. Finally when our target or, should I say, Drop stepped into room 105, we slowly pulled up in front of the second building. As we began to wait for Lisa to hit me up on the phone, Dino lit up a blunt of weed to keep our killer mood rolling. “Yeah, nigga, we’re about to wet that motherfucker up. You know what I’m saying,” Dino said as he puffed the blunt of weed. “Fuck that nigga ain’t no hesitation,” Kurrency chimed in as Dino ed the blunt of weed to him. Kurrency hit the blunt four times and then ed it to me. By the time I had dragged the blunt of weed into my lungs, my cell phone started to ring. It was Lisa on the other end of the phone. “Baby, I got him,” Lisa said in a low voice. At that time, I heard the sound of the commode flushing continually. “Aight, baby. We’re coming upstairs,” I said as we stepped out of the ride in one unison form. “Baby, he’s sitting on the bed right now with his underwear. I’m in the restroom, so hurry up,” Lisa said as she ended the call. I had to tip my hat for Lisa because she was on point when she had to step into the restroom so that Drop couldn’t hear her phone conversation, na’mean. Just as we dashed into the room, Drop was about to penetrate Lisa from the back. They were both naked on the bed like new babies. “Yo, what the fuck is going on?” Drop said with a confused look as we pointed our guns at him in a unison form.

“Shut the fuck up and get your ass on the floor,” Dino commanded. “Aight, bruh. I don’t want no problem. Bitch, I know you was up to something no good. Damn, I should’ve listened to my instinct,” Drop said as he motioned to lie flat on the floor. At that moment Lisa was about to walk out from the room. After she had finished putting her cloths on to cover up her gorgeous body. “Hey, Lisa. Thank you for the job,” I said as I dished out a hard punch that hit Lisa on her left eye. Instantly she collapsed down to the floor. I quickly motioned toward the bed and then grabbed one of the pillow. I placed it on top of Lisa’s head and then let out two slugs into her head, na’mean. As Lisa lay flat in a pool of blood, Drop’s eyes got widened. I could tell he was surrounded with fear. “Son, do you know why we are here?” I asked Drop as I pointed my burner at him. “Yo, I don’t know,” Drop replied immediately. “Son, your life is worthless right now word to the motha. We’re about to smoke your ass up in minutes, but before we do—,” I said with a pause as I retrieved a picture of Uncle Mike out from my jeans pocket. “Before we smoke your ass up. I want you to know why your bitch ass is about to die,” I added as I showed Drop Uncle Mike’s picture. The look on his face flagged he knew who Uncle Mike was. “Son, what’s your name?” I asked Drop just to make sure I was killing the right ma’fucker. “Bruh, my name is Drop,” Drop said without hesitation. “Aight, Drop. I’m about to ask you one question, and I expect you to tell me the truth,” I said plainly. “Son, do you know the person in this picture?” I pointed at Uncle Mike’s picture to Drop. “Yo, I swear I don’t know who this guy is. I’ve never seen him before,” Drop said sincerely. I knew he was lying. “Yo, I know your bitch ass is lying right now. How about this?” I said as I charged at Drop and then began to pistol-whip him in the face fiercely until blood started to gush out of his face. “Son, we got all night to torture your bitch ass, na’mean,” I said as I stopped pistol-whipping Drop. “Yo,

that was my uncle you shot to death. All I want to know is why you had taken his life away,” I added. Drop looked at me with a mean mug and then turned his face away from me. He clasped his white T-shirt and then wiped the blood out from his busted lip. “Check this out, playboy. I put nearly eighty thousand dollars on that bitch Tiffany and she dogged on me and then started fucking your uncle. You feel me? I paid her tuition in school. You know what I’m saying,” Drop remarked. “I paid for her mom’s funeral and—” Before Drop could finish his sentence, I cut him off and said, “Son, cut that bullshit out, na’mean. What the fuck my uncle got to do with what you’re saying?” Drop gazed at me with raised brows. “Fuck your uncle. That motherfucker stole my bitch, and that’s how I see it. He got what he asked for. Know what I’m saying? So fuck him. I made that bitch Tiffany,” Drop spat. As I listened to Drop, I felt like I was hit with a sledgehammer. “So you’re the ma’fucker that had killed my uncle over a bitch?” I asked in a confused manner. “Yep. If I got the chance to kill him again, I bet I would. Why not? Ain’t y’all about to kill me? I tell you what, fuck your uncle and fuck y’all,” Drop spat with a vaunt as the first shot from my 9 mm chrome hit him in the eye. Boom, boom . . . bang, bang . . . boom . . . boom . . . bang, bang. In one unison form, Kurrency, Dino, and I began to send mad shots into Drop’s body like it was raining. Immediately a pool of blood poured out from Drop’s body and then spread across the room’s floor.

CHAPTER TWENTY ONE

Hit ’Em Up

As I sat down on the couch, starring at Uncle Mike’s picture that hung on the wall, my feeling was undeniable as I reminisced the times that Uncle Mike and I had. I was lost in a deep thought until my phone began to ring. The loud sound of my cell phone drifted my mind back into reality. It was Dino on the other side of the phone. “What’s up, son?” I said with a slurred voice. “Yo, what’s cracking out there? Why your voice sounding like that? Did you just woke up from sleep?” Dino asked. “Naw, I’m just chilling. What the move is?” I shot back at Dino. “Bruh, me and Kurrency is about to scoop you up. Knowledge wants everybody to assemble at the warehouse,” Dino remarked. “Word!” I exclaimed. “Yeah, hommy, you know what the movement is. I think we’re about to hit some bank up for their bread. You know what I’m talking about,” Dino added. “Son, word to the motha. Fuck that nigga, na’mean,” I said. “Bruh, what is your problem? Everything aight?” Dino asked. “Bruh, you’re sounding like you’re mad at the world,” Dino added. “Son, I’m aight. I’m about to cut out on that ma’fucker, na’mean. I’m ready to leave the Dream Squad, Knowledge, and the whole robbery shit alone, son,” I said. “Bruh, we got it made fucking with that nigga. Why do you want to leave the connect?” Dino commented. “Son, we’re rich. We don’t need Knowledge, na’mean. Son, we need to come off this robbery shit. It’s time to go legit with our money, na’mean. We made it and

we could open up business and chill the fuck out,” I said crisply as I jeweled Dino up with little bit of wisdom to leave the jack move shit alone while we got it made. “Bruh, I’m feeling what you had just said. Shit is looking ugly for me right now, man! I’m broke like a motherfucker. I had been splurging crazy,” Dino said. “I tell you what. We got to hit a couple of links and we will be out for good,” Dino added. “Son, tomorrow might be too late,” I said plainly with a word of advice. “Bruh, we’re 2 Raw–2 Die. We gonna live a thousand lives, aight. Look, bruh, we fixing to come pick you up, aight?” Dino pushed and then hung up. Twenty-five minutes later, after Dino and Kurrency had picked me up, we pulled into the warehouse parking lot in Dino’s Escalade like the usual suspect. Our swag was ill like a ma’fucker, na’mean. As we walked into the warehouse with pride, I was wearing a white Lacoste shirt, black jeans by Pelle Pelle, a black pair of Timberland boots, and a black oversize hat that covered my brow na’mean. At the long hallway that led to our unit, we dabbed and threw the peace sign in the air to whoever we encountered. Everyone in the warehouse was like family. There were people there that didn’t know us by our names, but they knew us by our faces, na’mean. Finally, when we stepped into our unit, everybody in our unit was at the unit chanting with one another, na’mean. When Pusha saw us walked in into the unit, he approached us with a mad swag. Speaking of Pusha, he was cool as ma’fucker. The first day, he had jeweled me up with a word of advice after he had noticed Dino snorting cocaine in Dro’s basement. Since then, I could count on him. “Yo, what’s up, fam?” Push said as we dabbed. “Son, I can’t call it,” I replied. “Yo, it is good to see y’all niggas,” he added as he proceeded to dab Dino.

“Bruh, you know how we do. Stay grinding and stack that paper up,” Dino said as he dabbed Pusha. “I hear that. That’s the only way, fam,” Pusha shot back at Dino and turned to face Kurrency. “What’s up, Kurrency?” he added. “What the business looking like, big dawg?” Kurrency said crisply to Pusha as both of them exchange dabs. “Business as usual. You feel me?” Pusha said and then began to walk off in a stunning dark well-tailored suit, na’mean. After we had greeted everyone in the unit, Gloria walked in into our unit. She was wearing a black pant suit. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail style, and her fingernails were mad pedicured to the highest degree. Altogether, she possessed a perfect look of a nonnotorious killer. To Gloria, that would be an understatement, an insult. She’s a cold-hearted killer, a ruthless killer to be exact. My dawg, Kurrency and Dino, itted that she’d pulled her gun out at them at the hotel. So to underestimate Gloria means to underestimate death. She had earned her own spot in the game that is mostly dominated by men. “So how y’all doing? I know y’all getting ready for summertime,” Gloria said with a smile as she stood in front of the R unit crew like we were in a classroom. “Yeah, it’s almost summertime, Ms. Gloria. I’m ready to party in my yacht with some gorgeous, sisitas,” Bulldog said with his deep baritone voice. “That sounds like a plan to me, Mr. Bulldog,” Gloria spat as she moved slowly to the table in the corner of the wall and then laid a large manila envelope on top of it. “So what are your plans this summer, Ms. Gloria?” Fly-G asked with a joke to amuse the R unit crew. An intentional light smile stroke the face of Gloria as she walked toward Fly-G. “It’s personal, with someone special,” Gloria shot back at Fly-G and then rolled her eyes seductively at him. “Ooh shit, man! she got your ass right then, Fly-G. Bruh, you got to clean your face,” Paperboy exclaimed to fuel up the crack-a-wise game. At that moment,

everyone in the unit was laughing at Paperboy’s comment. “Okay, Paperboy, you need to cut that shit out,” Gloria said with a chuckle. “Aight, y’all, she got me. You know what I’m saying,” Fly-G stated and then continued, “Huh, Ms. Gloria, can I ask you something?” All eyes turned to FlyG immediately. “What is it, Fly-G,” Gloria shot back at Fly-G with raised brows. “I thought me and you had a plan this summer?” Fly-G shot back at Gloria in an attempt to clean his face up. “Ooh shiit . . . ,” everyone in the room exclaimed in unison form. “Yeah, yeah, that’s what I’m talking about,” Bulldog stood up and then began to cheer for Fly-G. He clapped repeatedly. At that moment, everyone in our unit were laughing at Fly-G’s thoughtful remark, na’mean. As the laughter slowly began to die, Paperboy stood and said, “And the winner of the crack-a-wise game is my man—Fly-Geee.” Gloria rolled her eyes at Paperboy with a pouty smile as she retrieved the large manila envelope she had placed on the table. “Okay, y’all, Fly-G got me,” Gloria announced as she began to out a diagram that contains the inside tip of the bank we were planning to rob, na’mean. Slowly as I began to look at the diagram, I noticed that the diagram shows the front entrance of the bank, the twenty-four-hour monitor cameras, the tellers’ counter, the istration office, and the vault room where the bank keeps their money, na’mean. “The diagram y’all looking at is the thang—the heist diagram. Y’all understand what I’m saying? This is the moment we’ve been waiting for. And it would be the biggest heist in the state, the biggest heist for the R unit. After we had milked our prey, they are going to be sorry bastards,” Gloria stated with a smirk. At that time, she was walking around us in a rhythmic movement. Her confident in us was high like Mountain Kilimanjaro. She knew we would pull the heist successfully, na’mean.

As the clock began to tick very fast, it was getting real dark outside. As fast as Gloria could, she quickly began to conclude the heist plans. “Y’all make sure y’all head straight to the crib. Knowledge wants y’all to get your mind right ’cuz the heist is about sixteen hours from now. So he want y’all to rest, relax, and think about the heist,” Gloria remarked as the R unit crew positioned to bounce. At 8:55 a.m. the next day, everyone from the R unit was at the unit, preparing for the heist. Some of the C-unit cats were in our unit at that time. They were gathering their ammunitions for the heist. The C-unit cats that were in our unit were selected to act as a convoy. They are talented and skillful bike riders, na’mean. Above that, they are also known for ruthless killing during a crucial mission. Once we were loaded up with all kind of ammunitions, we headed to the federal bank located at Peachtree Street. We were in two vans, and the C-unit cats were in their bikes. They were leading us to the bank, na’mean. While on the other hand, Mr. Mugg from the C unit skillfully pushed a silver eighteen wheeler explosive tank behind us. By the time we pulled up at the bank, it was 9:25 a.m. There were a few cars parked at the parking lot of the bank. We waited for the C-unit bikers to start patrolling down the street before we hopped out of the van. “Eight o eight, pose one,” Buck, the C-unit commander, said on the CB radio. “Go ahead, pose 6,” Dro replied as we sat quietly in the van. At that moment, Buck and his C-unit crew had begun to patrol down the street to make sure there were no cops around. “All zones cleared and covered at this time,” Buck said. “Copy, pose 6. We’re going in now,” Dro said as we began to wear our ski masks on, na’mean. Without hesitation, we rushed into the bank and began to yell at everybody in the bank to lie down on the floor. At that moment, Bulldog and I made sure we snatched up the burners the two bank guards were carrying. In a quick move, Dro fired up three powerful shots that dismantled the three electric monitor cameras that were inserted inside the bank. “Get down . . . now, get down . . . now on the floor,” we yelled repeatedly to the bank customers and employees. There were about fifteen people inside the bank. We made sure every one of them lay flat on the floor. “Okay, who’s the bank manager?” Dro asked one of the black female bank tellers. He yanked her off her feet and then pointed his burner at her head. “Who

is the fucking bank manager?” Dro repeated. In fear and shock, the black female bank teller said, “He’s right there . . . the white guy right there on the floor.” She pointed to a fat white guy that had his head buried to the floor. “Good. Now get your ass back to the floor,” Dro said as he motioned to a white fat guy that was dressed in a black suit. When he got to where he was, he yanked him to his feet. “Look, boy, do you understand this is a bank robbery?” Dro said with a hostile voice. “Yes, yes, I do,” the white guy said. “Good. So are you the bank manager?” Dro asked. The white guy nodded his head and then said, “Yes, I am.” At that moment, Kurrency slowly approached Dro and then popped two ugly shots into the white guy’s kneecap. “Please . . . please, don’t kill me. My name is Steve Holiday. I’ve three kids,” the sensational burns made Steve Holiday cried and begged for his life. In my mind, I liked what Kurrency had done. He felt that Dro was taking a chance, asking Steve Holiday unnecessary questions while the clock was ticking. In other words, he did it like the 2 Raw–2 Die way—shot him in the kneecap ‘n’ make him speak, na’mean. As Steve Holiday begged for his life, he agreed to open the bank vault. With one step forward, Kurrency grabbed one of Steve Holiday’s arm, while Fly-G grabbed the other arm. Together they dragged Steve Holiday down to the hallway where the bank vault was located, na’mean. Within a second after, Kurrency and Fly-G had dragged Steve Holiday to the bank vault. Killa, Bulldog, Pusha, Paperboy, Dino, and J. Rod moved swiftly toward Kurrency and Fly-G with empty duffy bags. At this time, everything was now moving fast as planned. Everyone was position as expected. And we all knew what to do, na’mean. Two minutes later, Pusha, Killa, Bulldog, Paperboy, J. Rod, and Dino began to move out cheddars (money) to the van. My nigga Kurrency got himself positioned at the bank vault. He was holding it down there to make sure we didn’t get the money with the dye packs, na’mean. As Dro and I positioned ourselves at the service area in the bank, we kept on pointing our gun toward the bank’s customers and employees as they lay flat on the floor with their face down. Na’mean. My mind was completely blown as Pusha, Killa, Bulldog, Paperboy, J. Rod, and Dino kept moving out bags of money to the van. But being the nigga that I am, I kept my concentration to what I was doing. With a quick eye rotation, I glanced at my stopwatch and then

gestured at Dro that we got two minutes left to bounce out of the bank. For some reason, at that moment, I was beginning to feel like we are some lucky ma’fuckers because the cops hadn’t been alerted about the bank robbery. But if we don’t leave when we had the chance, it will be only a matter of time. As Dro acknowledged my gesture, he turned away his attention from the slim white guy who was lying on the floor beside one of the halfway-opened office. Once the slim white guy noticed that Dro had turned his face away from him, he crept into the halfway-opened office. Without hesitation, I walked straight toward the office. When I got there, the slim white guy was on the phone, texting a message to someone. In my mind, I knew he was alerting someone about the bank robbery. That shit wasn’t hard to figure out. “Yo! Son, what the hell you think you’re—,” I said with a pause. “Yo, I tell you what, your life is now mine,” I added as I pulled the trigger. The force of the hollow-tipped 9 mm chrome round punched a fist-sized hole into the white slim guy’s head, leaving a gaping wound where his nose and upper lip once were, na’mean. As I was about to step out of the office, after I had smoked the white guy, the CB radio on my tactical jumpsuit began to crack. With one step forward, just as I attempted to walk out of the office, I heard, “Eight o eight, pose 1. Eight o eight, pose 1 . . .” Buck repeated. “Eight o eight, pose 6, go ahead,” Dro replied immediately. At that moment, I heard several gunshots being fired outside the street while the police siren blared outrageously. “Eight o eight, pose 6, pose 1 is on SOAP. Get your men out now!” Buck said. The code SOAP means “shoot-out against police.” “Eight o eight, pose 1, pose 6, copy,” Dro replied. During that moment, everybody had begun to dash out of the bank. When we got outside, the C-units crew were busting at the police that were trying to pull up to the bank. The number of bullets the C-unit cats were blazing at the police caused the cops to slowly begin to back off to the other side of the street as we dashed out of the bank to our van. By the time we had pulled out from the bank, my nigga Kurrency dashed out from the bank and then started to run toward us. That shit was fucked up because no one from the R unit or, should I say, in the van knew that he was still in the bank when everyone had dashed out from the bank, na’mean. As Kurrency kept yelling and waving his hands for us to stop so he can hop into the van, eight police cars zoomed out from nowhere and then began to chase us. “Yo, yo . . . that’s Kurrency running after us hell ‘n’ naw. Reverse this motherfucking van. My nigga Kurrency ain’t going down like that,” Dino said as he punched his fist

on the roof of the van. “Yo, son, fall back. We ain’t leaving without my partner Kurrency,” I said to Pusha as he kept accelerating the van. “Son, we got to take the chance to pick Kurrency up. Fuck the cops. I’m going all out for my nigga, na’mean,” I added as I kept my eye at Kurrency. At that moment, he had given up running. “Yo, fuck that. Keep driving, Pusha.” “Motherfucker, we ain’t going down to the pen because of one man. It is too late to reverse the van,” Dro said with an attitude that expressed that he doesn’t give a fuck about what happened to Kurrency. “Yo, Dino, you need to get your mind right. Don’t you see the cops chasing us, huh?” Dro added with a scowl. “Yo, fuck the cops. We live and die for this shit. You know what I’m talking about,” Dino said as he began to bust at the roof of the van with his 9 mm chrome. He took about four shots that put an ugly hole into the van roof. “Yo, Pusha, I’m about to blow your brains out if you don’t reverse this motherfucking van,” Dino spat after he had finished busting at the roof of the van. “Yo, motherfucker, you ain’t go bust shit while I’m in this motherfucker. I tell you what, try it motherfucker and your brains is mine.” Dro retaliated for Pusha as he pointed his gun at Dino. After hearing Dro’s words, I had to let him know regarding how we were on this shit together. My dawg is my dawg if I had to choose sides. “Son, if my nigga brains is yours, I would’ve your lions at your crib lick the shit outta your brains word up!” I said to Dro as I pointed my burner at him. “Yo . . . yo, y’all chill the fuck out. We got eight police men chasing us and y’all talking about killing one another. I bet y’all niggas wouldn’t make it to the pen. If I ever go down because of y’all niggas, I put that on my life. I would smoke all y’all niggas asses up before y’all walk out of this van,” Bulldog spat with a vex. “Yo, Pusha, accelerate fast as you can or—,” Bulldog added as the sound of gunshots fired by cops interrupted him midsentence. In a blink of an eye, as I kept my eyes at Kurrency, four SWAT police vans pulled up down the street from nowhere and then started to blast at the C-unit crew ruthlessly in a close range. As they kept blasting, the C-unit crew were busting back with all they got. So far, none of the C-unit crew had been shot, but

if this kept up, it was only a matter of time, na’mean. As I kept my eyes at Kurrency, my heartbeat was pounding twice than the normal rate as four cops began to gun him down. Slowly tears began to form in my eyes. I knew Kurrency wouldn’t like to see me cry when he had died like a true street soldier. So I closed my eyes to stop the tears from rolling down my face. When I had finally opened my eyes, I smiled slightly when I had noticed that my nigga Kurrency didn’t die alone. By all means, he had managed to take one of the policeman’s life him, na’mean. As we were getting chased down the street by the police, Pusha was accelerating the shit out of the van like it’s the last time he would ever drive. He zoomed past the other van the rest of the R unit were in and then threw a peace sign at them. By the time we got closer to the escape route, Dro radioed Mr. Mugg, “Eight o eight, pose 4.” At that time, there was nothing a ma’fucker can tell me about Dro. He was a weak rider. “Pose 4. Go ahead, pose 6,” Mr. Mugg said on the other end of the radio. “Stand by, pose 4. Your meals is on the way,” Dro said, meaning that Mr. Mugg’s targets, which are the police, are on the way toward him, na’mean. Soon as Mr. Mugg saw us heading toward him, he maneuvered the eighteenwheeler explosive tank out from the exit ramp, into the two-way lane. With a consistent drive, we zoomed past Mr. Mugg and one of the C-unit bikers that would pick Mr. Mugg up after he had completed his task. After we had zoomed past Mr. Mugg, Mr. Mugg quickly blocked the two-way lane with the eighteenwheeler explosive tank and then hopped on the back of the C-unit biker’s bike. At that moment, the eight police cars that were chasing us were unable to chase. They pulled to a complete stop beside the eighteen-wheeler explosive tank. As Mr. Mugg and the C-unit biker dashed off toward us, Mr. Mugg blew the eighteen-wheeler explosive tank. A wild fire quickly charged out from the explosive tank, burning everything that was in that area.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Things Fall Apart

Fifteen minutes later, after we had made it to the warehouse, Knowledge called everyone to the situation hall. The look on his face as we entered the situation hall expressed that Dro had told him about the incident that happened to Kurrency. Once everyone had seated on the plush conference mahogany chair, Knowledge stood up in his expensive tailored white suit and said, “Kurrency is one of the true soldiers that would be missed. A true soldier that knows and respect the code of the street. He had made it known to us that he truly lived with the saying, “Death before dishonor.” Finally, when Knowledge had finished speaking, he walked toward Dino. He knew Dino’s heart was filled with bitterness. He could tell by the way Dino bowed his head down. “Brotha, I need you to be strong. Be strong . . . I hate to see Kurrency missed,” Knowledge said as he patted Dino on the shoulder. Knowledge’s words were comionate, but it fell on a deaf ears because what he eats doesn’t make me or Dino shit. So when everything was said and done, his cousin, Dro, is a dead man walking in due time, na’mean. Just as Knowledge tend to turn toward Dro, Dro began to laugh. His nonchalant behavior in the situation hall became clear that he didn’t really give a fuck about Kurrency. In a blinked of an eye, Dino walked closer to Dro. “Yo, motherfucker. I know you was a weak ass bitch. You know what I’m talking about. Me and Kurrency should’ve killed your punk ass after we had robbed your weak ass for your two keys of dope and fifty G. Yeah, motherfucker that was us. Bad motherfuckers that had placed your nut sack on that hot heated fork. Open your eyes, nigga. That was us,” Dino spat in a saddened voice that turned Dro’s facial expression into a state of confusion as a shield of embarrassment embraced him unexpectedly. The moment Dino was about to turn around after he had finished exposing Dro’s hidden secret, Dro pulled out his four-five and then pointed it at Dro. “Fuck you, motherfucker. I mean fuck you and your nigga Kurrency. Y’all got away with that bullshit, but you ain’t fixing to get away with this bullet I fixing to put in your fucking head,” Dro said. With a quick rush, Dino delivered a crushing blow that knocked Dro off his feet. As Dro tried to recuperate, Dino picked up his

burner and charged back at him with a finishing blow that split Dro’s upper lip. Na’mean. After Dino had finished smashing Dro with his burner, Knowledge took the fourfive from Dino and then gave it back to Dro. Mad as a ma’fucker, Dro quickly positioned himself to attack Dino again with his burner. Just as he was about to pull the trigger, Knowledge stepped in front of him and then said with a hostile voice, “Put that gun down. Nobody is dying in this motherfucker while I’m here or not. We’re family and nobody’s life should be taken during a dispute.” As Knowledge spoke with vexation, Dro slowly began to lower his hand down. “Yo, you’re right, Knowledge. We’re family. One family and we’re subjected to burst our gun for one another. That’s what a family does. They look out for one another,” Dro said. “Since day one, I’ve been holding it down for you, Knowledge. Even when shit was stink. It is fucked up, Knowledge, that you knew that Dino and Kurrency were the motherfuckers who had robbed me few months ago and you chose to recruit this fuck bastards,” Dro added with a vex. “Brotha Dro, I can’t confirm or deny a damn thing you had just said. I’m the motherfucker in charge with this shit. Everything in this motherfucker belongs to me. This is business brotha. You betta recognize ’cuz nobody here questions my actions,” Knowledge uttered with a frown and then motioned to grab the Cuban cigar he had placed on top of the glass table situated in the situation hall. After Knowledge had lit up the Cuban cigar, he began to walk around the situation hall in a rhythmic manner and then slowly inhaled and exhaled the precisely cut cigar. At that moment, I wanted to ask Knowledge where our share was of the money we had stolen from the bank. But when I had noticed him moved to his plush mahogany chair with a possessive swag, I nodded my head and then decided to wait. Finally, about five minutes, Knowledge broke the silence in the situation hall after he had sat down. “Okay, brothas. I’m gonna make this speech as fast as I can. Y’all did a fabulous job. I got a nice portion of those monies in the duffy bags for everyone. But first, be warned. You must stay on a low key until you hear from me,” Knowledge said. “Every serial number of those monies in the duffy bags can be traced if I decide to give you your share now. So brothas, y’all know how it is done. So allow me to clean them up. The process would take a week with my connection. I know everyone here is a millionaire, and I expect y’all to have a personal bank

. Your money will be wired to your as soon as it is possible,” Knowledge added. After Knowledge had finished speaking, I felt like he had just dropped an atomic bomb in my ears. For some reason, I started to think that the Cuban cigar he had just finished smoking was laced up with cocaine and a little bit of weed because the words that had come out of his mouth had my stomach curled up. I knew there was no way I was going back to the crib without my share of the money we had gotten from the bank. “Yo, check this out, Knowledge. You know I respect you to the fullness word up! Son, I got to have my money right now, na’mean. I got connection from up north to clean the share of my money,” I lied. Knowledge looked at me with a quizzical look and then said, “Brotha, you got a great deal of assuredness in you. I know you’re a little bit concerned about the money, so do I. But listen to me, Brotha Sorrow. One spoiled apple in the box spoils the rest of the apples in the box. So if I allow you to have your share now, every one of us here in this motherfucker would bear the burden that will come from you. I cannot confirm or will I try to bother to check if your connection could clean your share of the money like I could. Again, if you respect me to the fullness, you must also respect my words,” Knowledge said brilliantly. Being the nigga that I am, I thought about Knowledge’s words and then decided to give him the benefit of the doubt. “Aight, Knowledge, your words is countable, na’mean. So what would happen to my partner Kurrency’s—” Before I could finish my midsentence, Knowledge interrupted me and said, “No one here is entitled to Kurrency’s share. What belongs to Kurrency, belongs to him through his blood family, so don’t worry about it, Sorrow. I would have Ms. Patra to Kurrency’s family as soon as possible. Always that we’re family here and everybody gets what they deserve. As I listened to Knowledge, his words were sounding sweet like a honeycomb, na’mean. After his final speech, it didn’t take us long to ditch out of the situation hall. Everyone was feeling at ease and relaxed, except Dro. The look on his face flagged he was still mad at Dino and his cousin Knowledge. As Dino and I headed out to the warehouse entrance, Pusha approached us and told us that he was truly sorry about the incident that had happened to Kurrency.

“Son, we appreciate your concern. I know the pressure was on you. When Dino had simply told you to reverse the van so we could take whatever chance we got as a rider to pick Kurrency up,” I said and then continued, “Right now, shit is really fucked up word up.” “Yeah, shit is fucked up. I’m fed up with this hustling. I got two kids and a phat crib. Millions of dollars at the bank, so I’m about to leave the game alone,” Pusha remarked. “Yo, fuck what you’re saying right now. My nigga Kurrency would be alive if you had reversed the goddamn van. Do you really realize what it means to lose a true G? You Know what I’m talking about. My nigga is a true street soldier. Bruh, I grew up with that nigga, and I think he—” Dino paused with a vex. “Yo, let’s leave this topic alone before I get heated and then get stupid on you, Pusha,” Dino added as he gazed at Pusha. With that being said, Pusha quickly bowed his head down then began to walk away before Dino charge on him like he had done to Dro.

Born 2 Da Street Poem

Streetlight

When my true soldier die, we multiply Take a binocular to the street All you would see is me in every corner Of the street and ghetto. When one of my true soldier got knocked A new soldier is born—this is born 2 da street

We’re deep in numbers like the sand to the earth.

About a week and a half later, on Monday evening, I was chilling at the crib, listening to Biggie Smalls “Life After Death.” That day I had called my bank to check if my share of the money we had gotten from the bank robbery was wired into my bank . Everything Knowledge had said about cleaning the money up came through like he had said. A nice gwap of $5.5 million was wired into my , na’mean. At 4:35 p.m., as I was still chilling at the crib, one of the realtors from Tiffany’s job called me and told me that he had finally sold one of the house that Uncle Mike had told him to sell. I was glad that the house was sold, but on the other part of my mind, I was sad that Uncle Mike wasn’t here to hear the good news, na’mean. Speaking of Tiffany, I got a call from her the other day, and she told me that she had given birth to a baby boy. Son, that shit made my day bright like the early morning sunshine. I wished Uncle Mike was alive to see his little man, na’mean. Just as I was beginning to think of Uncle Mike, part of my mind flashed back to how Kurrency had died. At that moment, my cell phone began to ring. It was my partner, Dino, on the other end of the phone. “Son, what’s good?” I asked after I had hit on the Talk button. “Bruh, ain’t nothing. I’m just chilling at the crib, watching this movie called Top Shottas, a Jamaican’s hood movie,” Dino said. “Son, I’m about to come over to your crib. I got some killa weed from my weedman, na’mean,” I remarked. “Aight, bruh, I got some Henny and Rémy Martin at the crib,” Dino remarked. “Aight son, that’s all we needed, na’mean. Yo! Son, did you get your cake from the bakery?” I asked, meaning if Dino had received his share of the money we had gotten from the bank robbery. “Yeah, bruh, that nigga Knowledge sent me $5.5 million cakes to my bank ,” Dino replied. “Son, that ma’fucker sent me what he had sent you,

na’mean. That was some ill shit,” I said. “Bruh, we deserved that shit,” Dino spat. “Son, did you holla at Kurrency’s mom?” I asked as I grabbed the key to Uncle Mike’s Lexus. “Bruh, she’s straight. I had talked to her, and she said that she had received the same number of cakes in her bank ,” Dino said, meaning that knowledge had sent $5.5 million of Kurrency’s share to his mom. “Son, that’s some ill shit, na’mean. Anyway, I’m on my way to your crib,” I said as I motioned toward the door. “Aight, bruh,” Dino replied and then hung up. On my way to Dino’s crib, I noticed the portable homemade DVD case Dino had dropped on the floor the night I had dropped him and Kurrency off after we had returned from Dro’s crib, na’mean. As I kept driving to Dino’s crib, my mind was stuck up on the DVD. So I decided to check it out. Once I had picked up the portable DVD from the backseat floor, I slid it in into the DVD player in Uncle Mike’s ride. “What . . . the hell,” I muttered as the DVD began to show some fuck scene that features Dro, Fly-G, Bulldog, and three white gorgeous chicks with flawless skin, na’mean. I spent about five minutes to watch that scene before I skipped it to scene two. Scene two was starring some short guy that I do not know. He was eating the shit outta some fine-ass Amazon chick pussy. I stared at scene two for like a minute and a half and then skipped it to scene three. Scene three was the uncut footage of Freaknik 1996 that features Knowledge, Dro, and the short guy in scene two. They were in the street, acting a fool to whichever chicks they approached. Some of the chicks that they had approached were showing off their pussies, asses, and titties to them. On that scene, Knowledge and Dro looked like they were in their early twenties. The short guy in scene two looks younger than Knowledge and Dro, na’mean. Finally, after I had watched the end of scene three. For some reason, I was fed up watching the DVD. But my mind kept telling me to skip through the rest of the scenes. At that moment, I was like five minutes to Dino’s crib.

As I began to skip through the scenes on the DVD, I stopped at scene six when I had noticed and seen some fine-ass chick that looked like my mom. On the DVD, she looks like she was in her early twenties as she was getting fucked by some guy that looks like Knowledge, at some spot that looks like they were in a restroom, na’mean. My eyes were low with pain as I heard the voice of the camera guy that was recording the action. His voice sounded like Dro when he had said, “Good job, bruh. Get that pussy, Blaze.” Once I heard the name Blaze, I quickly began to wonder if Knowledge’s name was once called Blaze when he was a young ma’fucker. Before I could come up with any conclusion, my mind began to drift back to the police report that reported that my mom was shot to death after she was raped. I was like a five-year-old boy to know what rape was, but I do that I was with my mom the day she got raped and shot to death. Na’mean. My head was beginning to spin around as I kept watching Knowledge boning the shit out of the fine-ass chick that I positively believe was my mother, na’mean. I couldn’t believe in a thousand years that I would come across the ma’fuckers that raped and murdered my mom. As I kept watching the person that I believed to be Knowledge, boning the shit out of my mom, my blood pressure began to boil up. Before I knew it, I had dug my hand into my jeans pocket and then retrieved the only picture of my mom that I had. On that picture, she was on her early twenties, na’mean. Quickly as it can get, my stomach began to curl up after I had noticed that the mole on my mom’s face was the perfect mole on the face of the fine-ass chick that Knowledge was boning or, should I say, raping. As my blood pressure boiled up to a hundred degrees, I slowly began to pull up in front of Dino’s crib and then ejected the homemade DVD out of Uncle Mike’s DVD player. The only thing that was in my mind at the moment was Knowledge’s and Dro’s lives. But first, I had to check on Dino, na’mean. By the time I had stepped out of the car, a black Corvette was pulling off at Dino’s crib. At that moment, I was dazed with confusion. By the time I had finally looked up at the black corvette, I noticed that the two ma’fuckers that were inside the Corvette were Dro and Bulldog. I couldn’t chase them at that moment because the door of Dino’s crib was wide open. When I had finally got closer to the door of Dino’s crib, I rushed in at once as I saw my nigga Dino lying in a pool of blood. Bullets were pumped all over his body like glass shards. His brain was deluging into the pool of blood. “Dino . . . Dino!” I yelled as I knelt down beside him. “I promise you I would get those ma’fuckers,” I said as I

stared at my dead partner. Loaded up with enough slugs to gun down Knowledge, Dro, and Bulldog, I hopped into my car to find my enemies. On my way, I called Pusha to find out what the Dream Squad is up to tonight. That way, I can track Dro and Bulldog, na’mean. I knew Pusha would keep it real with me and tell me where Dro and Bulldog is at. As for Knowledge, I’ve to creep on him in any given time at any given place. “Bruh, what’s good?” Pusha said on the other end of the phone after he had come to the phone. “Son, ain’t nothing. Where you at?” I asked. “Bruh, I’m on my way to the spot,” Pusha replied, meaning he’s on his way to the warehouse. “Son, what’s good at the spot?” I asked. “I thought Knowledge wanted us to stay on a low key,” I added with a remark. “Yeah, yeah, I really don’t know what the fuck is going on. That nigga Knowledge just called me like twenty minutes ago. He said he’s got an emergency task, and he want me on it,” Pusha remarked. “Son, that nigga Knowledge left me a message to hit the spot too. I thought you might know what the fuck is going on,” I lied. In my mind I was hoping that Pusha would just say what I wanted to hear. “Naw, bruh, I don’t know. You know how that nigga is. He doesn’t like to talk on the phone,” Pusha said sharply. “Son, who else do you think is gonna be at the spot?” I asked. “Bruh, I think the whole crew,” Pusha replied. “Aight, son, I’ll see you when I get there,” I said. “Aight, bruh,” Pusha replied. As I kept accelerating as fast as I could, I was glad that there was no cop on the way because my mind was already a thousand miles away, coming up with a

plan of attack as the blunt of weed I had smoked got me high as the kite. My killa instinct at that moment had advanced to a hundred and ten percent. There was no doubt that I was overready to send Knowledge, Dro, and Bulldog to their grave, na’mean. I was two exits down toward the warehouse when seven police cars zoomed past me like a rocket. That shit would’ve shaken anyone that was riding with me into uncomfortable zone, na’mean. But being the nigga that I am, I held my composure and kept driving. When I got to exit seven, I hit a quick curve and then raced down to Dawson Road. Ahead of me, I heard a loud police siren blaring sharply. So instead of racing straight to that direction, I took the access road to Milton Road. When I got to Milton Road, my heart began to pound heavily when I saw the high roadblock that was led by the DEA officers. The only building on Milton Road was the warehouse. So right then, I knew it was a bust as my heart began to pound heavily. There was no way I could reverse and ditch out of the roadblock because there were about thirty police cars all over Milton Road, and my only option was to think of what to say as five DEA agents pointed their gun at me to pull me over. “Get down from the car . . . get down from the car now!” they shouted in one unison form. At that moment, I stroked the secret compartment to make sure that I had it properly locked after I had ditched my 9 mm chrome inside, na’mean. As I pulled over to the sidewalk, some sturdy-built black guy wearing a vest that says DEA approached me as he pointed his burner at me. “Get down from the car,” he said. “Aight, Officer,” I shot back at him. Immediately, I had stepped out of the car. He cuffed me and then led me into the police van. The other four DEA officers at that time had begun to search my ride. When they didn’t find whatever they were looking for, they walked off to meet up with their team. Na’mean. While I was in the van, the sturdy-built black DEA guy began to run my New York ID he had snatched away from me. After he had finished, he positioned a scanner radio to his mouth and said, “Sir, this Detective Brown. I have every one of our target apprehended. Dro, Bulldog, Pusha, Killa, Fly-G, J. Rod. Sir, everyone on the bust list is apprehended at this moment, except Knowledge, Dino, and the one we couldn’t get his fingerprint. I mean the one we call Uncle Sam.” As I listened attentively to the sturdy-built DEA agent, right then, I know

his name was Brown. “Listen, Detective Brown, I want Knowledge, Dino, and Uncle Sam apprehended immediately. Kurrency is out of the picture. He’s dead. So get me those three bastards. None of them is walking out free,” the voice on the other scanner radio said. After the two DEAs’ conversation on the scanner radio, I felt a goose flesh rush all over my body. Right at that moment, I just knew that Dino, Kurrency, and I were being watched, along with the rest of the warehouse crew. Besides that, I also knew that the Uncle Sam the voice on the other end of the scanner radio was referring to was me. But then he sounded like they were unsure of who I was, na’mean. Three minutes later, the sturdy-built DEA agent, which is Brown, asked me what my name was as he kept staring at my New York ID. For some reason, he was looking at it with a doubtful mind. But in my mind, I had already known what it is, na’mean. I knew that they don’t know who I was by just listening to the conversation the two DEAs had earlier. “My name is Marcus Freeman.” I told him the name on the New York ID. At that moment, I almost chuckled as I thought about how foolish the question was. “So, Marcus, what are you doing down here?” Detective Brown asked. “Well, I was supposed to meet someone around this area,” I replied. “Don’t lie to me ’cuz I got your voice recorded on the tape about a drug transaction,” Detective Brown said with a concealed expression that flagged he was lying. “Sir, actually I was on my way to a friend of mine’s party and I ended up down here because I was trying to beat the traffic on Dawson Road,” I lied, hoping that Detective Brown wouldn’t ask me any more question, na’mean. “Okay, Mr. Marcus. I’m sorry for the little conflict here. We’re looking for some group of people—,” Detective Brown said with a pause and then stepped down from the van. “You’re free to go, Mr. Marcus. The fun is yours at your friend’s party,” he added as he uncuffed me. “Have a nice night, sir. I hope y’all get the bad guys,” I said flatly just to play the good guy. When I got closer to my ride, my heart had stopped pounding heavily. It felt good to get the fuck away from the pigs, na’mean. I took the last few steps hastily and then hopped into my ride. I was careful like a ma’fucker to avoid unwanted attention as I slowly began to pull away from Milton Road. Back to the highway, I was accelerating as fast as I could. Any thought that I had about what happened to me when the DEA agents pulled me over faded into the thin air. The only thing that I was thinking as I was driving was the move to head

back to New York as soon as possible. In a blink of an eye, as my thought process had settled in my mind, a black tinted Cadillac Coupé Wind ed me with a mad speed. Without hesitation, I gassed up toward the Cadillac Coupé with a speed of 75 miles per hour because I had noticed the letters of Dream Squad engraved below the left taillight of the Cadillac Coupé. At that moment, I felt that the person inside the tinted Cadillac Coupé is Knowledge because the sturdy DEA agent had mentioned that everyone on their bust list is apprehended, except Knowledge, Dino, and Uncle Sam. I knew the Uncle Sam he had mentioned was me, na’mean. Dino and Kurrency are dead, and that left Knowledge on the list. Speaking of Dino, I believe that the DEA agents didn’t know he was murdered a few hours ago because if they do, they wouldn’t have mentioned his name on their bust list, na’mean. As my mind drifted to the conversation that the two DEA agents had, I ed them saying that Kurrency is dead, which means that they knew about the bank robbery and that tells me that they have been watching everybody at the warehouse, na’mean. As I tail the black tinted Cadillac, I made sure that I switched lanes repeatedly so that whoever was pushing the tinted Cadillac Coupé wouldn’t suspect he was being tailed. Slowly and steadily, the driver of the black tinted Cadillac Coupé began to exit through Lenox Road at I-85 South, Heading toward Buckhead. He took the access road after he had exited on Lenox Road. Calm as a ma’fucker, I followed him down to the Lenox train station quietly. Still on Lenox Road, he made a quick turn onto Brookhaven Road, na’mean. Finally, in a short time, he pulled up at Brookhaven Height, condominium homes built for rich ma’fuckers. As the big gate of the condominium homes began to open up for the driver of the tinted black Cadillac Coupé, I pulled up closer to him. It was obvious that he didn’t know he was tailed. Once I had finally made it, in into the Brookhaven Height after the driver of the tinted Cadillac Coupé. I pulled up at the front of the fourth building of the condominium homes while the driver of the tinted Cadillac Coupé parked at the third building. Tooled up with my burner, I began to study the driver of the tinted Cadillac Coupé from my ride for about two minutes while he was still in the car. When he had begun to step out of the car, I kept my eyes on him. Once his full body structure had finally come to the light, my eyes got widened. It was my worst enemy, Knowledge, na’mean. With a quick move, I stepped out of my ride and

then headed for an unexpected attack when I had noticed that Knowledge had turned his back to grab the two suitcases in his trunk. When I got closer to Knowledge, he saw my silhouette as he was about to turn around. Without hesitation, I yanked him by his arm and then pointed my burner on his neck. “Son, you know who this is. So don’t even try to look back or—,” I said as Knowledge interrupted me. “Hey, Brotha Sorrow. What is the matter?” “Yo, suck my dick and keep moving. I’ll kill you right here if you make me to,” I said as I stroked Knowledge with the tip of my burner. “Okay, Brotha Sorrow, be easy. Please come with me upstairs and have a drink,” Knowledge said as he began to motion with his suitcases, na’mean. When we got to the third level of the condominium home where Knowledge lives, he sat the two suitcases in front of his door and then began to insert his key into the mahogany wooden door. Yeah, ma’fucker, I got your ass now, I said in my mind as Knowledge opened the door and then picked up the two suitcases as he motioned to step into his condo. At that moment, I was standing about three feet away from him as I pointed my gun at him. “Okay, Brotha Sorrow, please put the gun down and have a seat,” Knowledge said. As I stepped into his condo, his living room condo was laced up with expensive wall screen TV, designer couch with pillows, home theater equipment, and a fish tank. “Son, do you think I’m here to play games with you. I tell you what, put your hands up on your head,” I said in a coarse voice. “Come on, Brotha Sorrow. Why don’t you have a—” Before Knowledge could finish his sentence, I popped two shots into his kneecap. “Aye . . . aye, ooh shit,” Knowledge cried with pain as blood gushed out from his kneecap. The look on his face at that moment expressed that he now realized that I was serious. “Okay, Brotha Sorrow, what is the matter?” Knowledge said.

“Son, the woman you had raped and shot to death is the matter, ma’fucker,” I said with a fierce gaze. “Come on, brotha. You know me betta than that, Brotha Sorrow. That is not my character,” Knowledge uttered with pain of sensational burns. “Son, what are you saying? That I’m lying huh? Do you think I’m here to lie to you. Ma’fucker, you better recognize and realize that you’re about to die,” I said as I raised my burner, aiming it at Knowledge. Knowledge opened his mouth wide and said, “Ooh . . . no, brotha. I didn’t say that you’re lying. Look here, Sorrow. I got a total of seven million dollars in those suitcases. I got enough money saved up, and we just got busted at the warehouse. Everybody that works in the warehouse—” Knowledge paused and then looked at his bleeding knee. “This shit is over, Brotha Sorrow. Me and you can go to my private island if you would just listen to me and put your gun down,” Knowledge added. “Son, before I smoke your ass up, I want you to know that your cousin Dro and his partner Bulldog smoked my partner Dino at his crib. I know you probably know about that,” I said with a rage. “Brotha, brotha, you can’t bear that weight on me. I do not have any knowledge of that,” Knowledge said sincerely. “Son, your cousin and Bulldog are dead men, if I ever see them again, but right now, I want you to tell me what you know about this—,” I said as I inserted the portable DVD homemade flick into Knowledge’s DVD player and then hit the scene that shows where Knowledge was raping my mom, na’mean. I allowed the scene to play all the way to the end to refresh Knowledge’s memory, although that shit was a hard pill to swallow, na’mean. As soon as the scene had played to the end, I said to Knowledge, “Son, I would spare your life right now if you keep it real with me,” I lied. “Son, did you rape that beautiful lady in that scene? I know that was you and Dro on that scene,” I added. Even though I couldn’t see Dro on the scene, I knew that was his voice on the background. “Brotha Sorrow, it was an accident. I was a young ignorant brotha at that time,”

Knowledge itted. “So you actually raped her?” I asked. “Brotha Sorrow, that word is true, but like I had said, I was a young ignorant brotha. At that moment, it was an accident,” Knowledge replied. “Brotha, I was a young motherfucker called Blaze at the time. I didn’t know better,” Knowledge added. “Fuck, you mean it was an accident. Son, accidents don’t happen like that. Son, you raped my mom,” I said with a vex as I raised my burner up and then pointed it at Knowledge. “Brotha, I’m—” Before Knowledge could finish his sentence, I popped four straight shots into his chest and then popped two more shots into his head as soon as he dropped on the floor.

To Be Continued