'Boy don't want war, pussy boy don't want war. Boy don't want war, pussy boy don't want war'
"War" by Chief Keef blasted through the speakers that displayed outside, as well as inside. It was people around everywhere; talking, eating, enjoying the collaborative time together.
As much as the weather in their hometown been acting out for the past weeks, it decided to show up delightful this day, hitting Chicago with a cool 68' degrees.
The setting took place at Dayvon's mother's house, she'd finally got herself out of O'block for the better, God blessing her with an secluded, yet comfortable area in the suburbs.
Also, it was the day of Dayvon's father death day. So his mother took the initiative to mix in his celebration of life, as well as an house warming party together, all in one.
"Von, help me with these ribs on the grill!" Dayvon's mother, Taesha called out for him to help her.
"Run me my shit, nigga!" Dayvon yelled out to Durk, raising himself from the crouched position after his dice hit, a smile pushing through his lips as he looked over at the male.
"Fuck you." Durk remarked to the male, a smile gracing through his lips, proceeding to grasp onto a bankroll out of his jeans, giving the male 500 dollars in result of winning the round of gambling.
"Dayvon, I know you hear me calling you!" Taesha called out for her child once again, this time by his government.
The males head raised up within a quickness, his head inching over his shoulders, looking at his mother whom stood next to the grill, holding the source open.
Seeing the mug sitting boldly on her beautiful face, the sun blasting on her melinated skin, leading the male to witness her displeasing looks from a distance.
"Shit, ima' be right back, gang." Dayvon informed Durk, leading the elder to give Von a soft nod in return, continuing to gamble with the Wick, Polo, and others.
"Yes, mama?" Dayvon greeted his mother, a smile gracing through his plump lips as he watched his mother face softened whom stood before him.
