Memphis Streets 2 (Urban)

Chapter 28- Le'Shelle

I can't believe my life has come to this. Snake has pulled me off my throne on Shotgun Row, and he's hidden me in this piece-of-shit warehouse in West Memphis, Arkansas. And to add insult to injury, I'm in this bitch taking care of his and Melanie's wet stain, Christopher. Maybe I could put up with this shit better if I had at least gotten my fuckin' ring by now. But for two months all I've gotten from Snake are sweet words and a wet ass. Sure. We're in the middle of a gang war and shit. Blasting crabby-ass Cartel Lords is part of the fucking job. It certainly ain't no reason to be reneging on promises.

"Word is bond, my ass," I mumble under my breath while I roll a fat joint.

Shit, I need something to relax me before I snap, crackle, and pop up in this bitch. After I put some fire to the end of this herb and fill up my lungs, my body chills the fuck out, but my mind is still tripping on this bullshit. How can it not? There's so much of it piled all around me. All this shit is my fault. This is what the fuck I get for believing his lying sorry ass. Time and time again, I put my shit on the line, proving how down I am, and this is what the fuck I get? It's time to stick a fork in this shit because I'm done.

What the fuck is a queen without her throne? And my fucking seat is in the heart of Shotgun Row. I ain't scared of those crabby-ass hooks or Captain Smith and his tarnished badge. I wish they would bring their asses back down Shotgun Row. I got something for them-especially that young nigga Dice. Whatever deal his ass made with the devil is only fucking temporary. Believe that. This inconvenient war is getting to Snake, too. His ass ain't sleeping right-well, at least when he's in my bed. Now that I think about it, he ain't been doing much of shit in that muthafucka. So if I'm not fucking a big pussy monster like his ass, then that means Monica's retarded ass is still in the mix.

Fuck. Who am I kidding? It could be any number of bold bitches in the set, smiling in my face while tossing pussy at my man like candy. That's how these bitches roll. Not so long ago, I was one of them, waiting for his ex-wifey, Shariffa, to fuck up and lose her spot. I didn't have long to wait either-six months tops. Snake caught her ass creeping, too. He murked her nigga with so many bullets that he and his car looked like Swiss cheese on the side of the road. Shariffa ended up in the hospital, fucked up, but at least her ass is still breathing. Most Queen Gs, my ass included, believe that she should consider herself lucky. Bones heal and oxygen is more valuable than gold any damn day of the week.

Last I heard, Shariffa slithered her ass on over to the Crips. She's at the bottom of the pile, making pennies on the dollar, muling shit in and out of the pen. Course, the Crips ain't the pickiest of muthafuckas. Muthafuckas don't come to the Crips. The Crips come to you, they like to brag. Sheeeiiit. Don't believe the hype. They recruit more crackheads than soldiers, and that's keeping it real. Before the escalation in this current gang war, I thought of Shariffa as some silly bitch who got caught slipping. I mean, who the fuck would risk losing all the fucking power and respect that came with being Snake's main bitch for some dusty nigga who ain't about shit? But now? My ass is starting to see shit from a whole new perspective. The longer I'm with Snake, the lonelier I get. If he ain't out hustlin' up some paper, he's out blastin', and if he ain't doing either one of those two things, he's out choking and fucking a new bitch.

Another thing me and Shariffa have in common is also starting to fuck with me: no fuckin' babies. No babies make it easier for his ass to bounce. I'm convinced of that shit. But with Sasha? Frankly, I can't tell if he's more upset that he didn't earth Fat Ace when he had a chance or if he's missing that double-crossing pig he's been fucking since high school. Oh, this nigga thinks I don't know, but I see his ass walking around, staring at Christopher's ugly future mug shot while about to trip over his damn bottom lip. That muthafucka was stuck on that pig. Real stuck. That shit has me fucked the hell up.