SANTANA exhaled loudly as he stepped out of the red car, finally letting all the smoke that was trapped inside out. You'd think he just stepped out of a burning building with how quick he was engulfed by the smoke.
"You good dawgy?" Jayd, his best friend asked now stepping out of the car as well.
Santana lazily nodded, he really wasn't 'good' but he had no time to worry about it right now.
"I just wan get this shit over with man, you know ian never liked putting London in the middle of shit."
Jayd furrowed his eyebrow "Nigga what? London put haself in shit on ha own the fuck is you yappin bout?"
"Aight bro whateva, I'm trying get her out this shit though. I wan her be my baby motha."
Santana didn't bother to wait to see his best friend's reaction to his words, he'd already heard it all. He's "too young" "it's too dangerous to have kids for us" "you're just putting yourself at risk to be vulnerable."
He knew. Yes all of that was true, but that didn't change the fact that he loved his girlfriend and knew he'd never want to be with anyone else. London wasn't his first girlfriend, but she was the only girl that he ever actually cares about. Maybe it was because they were both cut from the same cloth, it was the usual grew up having no money, turned to the streets to start making money, basically your everyday hood love story.
The couple had been only been together for roughly a year now, but in Santana's head they'd basically already been together a lifetime. It was difficult for him not to think that way, with the amount of shit they'd already gone through together. From, hitting licks together, to being in shootouts together, she was literally his partner in crime. Yet at the same time, one of his favorite things about her was that she knew how to turn her street persona off and just be a real human being with him.
"Well shit, if everything go smooth maybe Ace will finally let us start running our own shit and pay us. I'm tired of put my mothafuckin life on the line for dirt cheap" Jayd scoffed, going over to open the cars trunk, which was full of guns.
Santana followed behind, grabbing what he needed and tucking the gun into his waistband.
"Mane stop fuckin crying. Ace done helped a nigga make sure my lit' brother always got food on the table, I ain't complaining."
