Brief note; I know that it's the wrong place for when he got put out and all'at, so don't tell me shit. Feel free to get where I'm coming from with the George Lopez clip in the MM. 😂 oops, this was supposed to be brief.
Here's another chapter 😏
Excuse my mistakes 😊
August.
"Aye, Aug. Lemme get a half."
I looked my regular up and down before he held out the money. I quick slipped him his fix as he gave me my money.
"One bruh." I nodded.
This has been me fa almost a month or something like 'dat. I ain't had too much contact wit my moms, and this shit has just become my lifestyle for a while.
I'm smashin' nasty, loose pussy ass WOMEN just fa' a place ta lay my head at night. If I knew shit was gon' be all bad like dat, I woulda stayed my ass at da' corna' sto'. Buhlee 'dat.
It's crazy that I even turned to this because it's the same thing that took my brother from me.
He ain't want me in this shit no way. But like everybody who end up on 'dis path, somebody told them to stay away and it only made the pull stronger. The streets are their own force with a stronger pull than a hypnotist and therapist put together.
I ain't tryna do this for the rest of my life either. I just wanna get it enough to where shit get easy. At least a lah' bit.
I wanna make amends with my people, my moms more importantly. I ain't gon' lie, Ima momma's boy. That woman is my rock and my savior. Wit'out ha', my grind wouldn't be shit.
She taught me to grind, not this grind, but to grind nonetheless. I'm upset with myself that I hurt ha'. She ain't want this fa me eitha', but what otha' options did I have?
I'm alive and I'm making it. That's all I ask fa' right na'.
- - -
"A-aye, you." I looked up from my phone. That voice sound a lah' familiar. Like I know it from somewhere. "Let-Let me get a, uh, a pound of white."
Hold on, yo.
I know dis muhfucka.
"Hmph."
"Please, I need my fix."
"I betcho ass do." His eyes bulged as he came to his senses and realized who I was.
"A-Au-Aug-"
"Nigga, you know who I am. Don't play stupid."
I ain't seen this nigga in months. Last time I did, was the day I took his kids to the park.
And na' his ass need his dosage of crack and I'm da' one he askin'. Ha, sick twist of fate.
Last I heard, he still owe Trav dat cash.
He cleared his throat. Yeah nigga, it's awkward. You need yo next come up from ya niece ex-nigga.
"You eva' tell ya wife about ya kid ona way?" He looked stuck. "Ima take dat as no." I chuckled.
"Can y-you help me or not?"
"You got TL money or not?"
"TL?"
"Yeah," I grinned deviously. "T-L. Two syllables."
"Uh, uh..." He started scratching his arms and neck and shit.
