Street Love

Just Left Money Gram Inna Lemon Lamb

O. Maraj

The block was hot.

All types of super cars adorned the newly cemented streets, but one in particular caught my eye.

Taking her advice, more like following her demand, I copped a two piece jean short and vest set, a burgundy-washed True Religion, denim set. Timbs finished off the fit with a leather bucket and pure gold accessories I had copped from the Arabs my Father had connections with.

"Steph, I don't need you on my jock, no. I'm grown, boy, I understand you, but back up." I felt like I was his younger sister, and though I stood nearly a foot below him, my role was still big sis.

"Nika, chill out. You fresh meat round this way, niggas think you're an enigma for real, they've only seen you 'bout your business not coolin' on no block. And I got the baddest two women out here on my whip, don't fuck it up for me."

The speakers from the hood's park were so loud I'm pretty sure people uptown could hear Lil Wayne's verse from here. That same super car that caught my eye was now abandoned by its owner as they approached me.

With every stride she took, I was shifting subtly to prepare for whatever charm she was coming to enchant me with.

"You came," she kept her eyes on me as she dapped Stephen up, nodding towards Lauren who was leaning on the hood of Stephen's car right after.

"I did," I couldn't fight the smirk on my lips as her perfume invaded my personal space. Now, I could smell that strong, musky scent of whatever plant she was smoking and I took note of the redness of her eyes.

Fuck, she was so beautiful.

"Mhm," she hummed loud enough for me to hear or maybe we had blurred the lines of personal space moments ago. I pouted my lip and took time to look her up and down.

She also had on True Religion, but her jeans were baggy, fitting her sexily with just enough flare to enhance her masculinity.

"You look good, Beyoncé," I said as she lent down a bit, probably too faded to hear me.

Her hair smelled amazing and looked even better, we had dived into conversation while I serviced her and how natural it was scared me. That thug, gun toting girl wasn't who I met in that chair, that wasn't who I seen either.

"Thank you, beautiful. I'm having a kickback after this, just me and a few potnas, you gon come fuck with it?"

I pursed me lips together and I could tell she was a reader as she picked up on my uncertainty.

"I have to open up shop early tomorrow, Beyoncé."

We continued talking as if we were alone, as if the music weren't loud. But even then, she heard everything I was saying with no problem and that alone turned me on.

"Well, let's at least get something to eat after, I'll bring you home, make sure you get inside safely after this you know? That'll ease my mind for the night til I see you again."

Her hair was flowing, shining too. With every small step she took, her hair followed.

I had did my damned thing, but her parents had did their big one also.

"Okay, that's fair enough."

I agreed.

We stayed in conversation like the block wasn't packed. Beautiful people from our section, Downtown, flooded the streets. All with their different styles, weed, and cups filled. It was a sight to see, but when B was pulled aside by one of the guys from the picture Steph had showed me, the music had suddenly tuned out.