Trap god & Trap goddess (DISCONTINUED)

Prologue

My name is Fetty wap, but I was born as Willie Maxwell. I was born and raised in Paterson, NJ. I got into a accident when I was little, and lost one of my eyes. It ain't shit though.

Where I'm from, you don't get hand outs, I had to get out and earn mine. That's why my heart so cold. I ain't never ask nobody for shit, and I don't plan on asking them for shit. That's how the world is, you get it how you live.

My dad sells drugs in Miami, they call him Ant since his real name is Anthony. He wanted me to come with him in Miami, but I wasn't finna leave my momma like that. My mom's name is Paris. She got strung out on drugs when I was 5 and been using them every since. She would steal my dad's products and smoke them. They were married for 10 years, but they got a divorce since she turned to drugs. I stay in touch with my dad though, even though I don't consider him a real nigga. I don't even know the definition of a real nigga dawg. When my momma needed the bills paid, where was he? When me and my momma was hungry and starving, where was he? I don't give a fuck what my momma did, I still love her and she birthed me, so hell naw I ain't finna leave her for dead. I turned to the streets for love. I received all my love from my niggas Mj, Terrence, and D-boi. MJ had his own empire on the south side, so I paid him a visit and proved myself loyal to join the gang. Of course the gang was Folk. He jumped me in, and we automatically became connects. He would give me the drugs, and I would sell them to the fiends. I met Terrence and D-boi while working for Mj, we all just clicked. Them my niggas. Do I have a girlfriend? Fuck these bitches, I don't even fuck with them like that, I'm to busy focused on my money. I'm on the road to riches and I'm half way there already.

To be 25, a nigga like me was living good. I had a 8 bedroom, 6 bathroom home with a big kitchen area, a theater & arena, a living room that was big enough to rent for a hotel, and a dope ass backyard. All the niggas that passed by my house wish they could try to break in and steal from me, but I'll kill one of them niggas if they tried some slick shit with me.

I was chillin in my room, writing down some lyrics I came up with when I heard the doorbell ring. I threw on some gym shorts since I was just in my boxers, and put my nike slides on. I opened the door and Mj, Terrence, and D-boi came in taking a seat on my couch. "Wassup nigga, wake and bake." Mj said. Terrence and D-boi laughed. "Nigga it's 1 o'clock in the afternoon and you talking about some wake and bake." I said. They all bust out laughing. "Whats the move for today?" I asked them. "Shit, probably go to the trap and pop up on them niggas make sure everything running smooth, and then go to some of my restuarants and check on them." Mj said. "Thats wassup, I might be down." I said. I ain't have shit else to do. Mj was a street nigga, but he had sense. He owned a lot of restaurants, so if they questioned him about to much money, he had a place to show where it was coming from. I wanted to do some shit like that to, but I wanted to open up studios. I always had a passion for rapping and singing. I been rapping with my cousin Meek since I was 13. We always recorded our songs we made. "Lemme throw on some clothes right quick." I said, they all nodded and turned on my Wii.

NEW STORY!!!!

How is it?

Should I stop it or continue writing it?