Trap god & Trap goddess (DISCONTINUED)

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"Babygirl you so damn fine though, Im tryna know if I can hit it from behind though."

Fetty

A  nigga was chillin in the crib smoking weed as usual, until It was time  to go to the warehouse. I was starting to get worried about Alexis's little sister, she ain't been seen in a few weeks. Alexis just left to go to the police station and file a missing person report for her. I  could tell their relationship was strong, Alexis could barely keep herself together enough to get dressed.

My favorite show Martin was on, and I was sitting back laughing and blowing smoke until my phone rang.

"Wassup?" I answered.

"Wassup Fetty, this Tony man." he said.

"Whats hannin'?"

"Shit, none much. But listen, the producer of Atlantic Records wants you to meet up with them in the A this saturday at around one. They already  sent ya plane tickets and all. They covering everything from food to hotel rooms. You down?" he asked me.

"Bruh Tony, you gotta be bullshittin'."

"Im deadass serious mane, you got talent. That shit gone get you far. So I'm taking ya answer as a yes."

"Hell yes!" I answered.

He chuckled, "Aight, imma give em the news. Pack ya shit and I'll come by  Saturday morning to pick you up. Flight leaves at 5AM." he instructed.

"Aight bet nigga, Thanks for putting me on."

"Naw Fetty, you putting ya self on. Keep up the potential."

He disconnected the call, and I stared in shock.

My life just went from nothing to something real fuckin' quick.

I  had to tell my niggas bout this. I jogged upstairs and did a quick shower before throwing on some Nike Sweats, Black Nike Huaraches and my Nike hoodie.

I picked my lil fro' out, and placed my Jesus pieces in my ear before throwing on a few chains. I wasn't tryna dress up, but  then again I ain't wanna feel like no basic ass, broke ass nigga.

By the time I was finished, I was out the door with my phone and keys in my hand.

"What car I wanna take?" I asked myself.

I ain't know. I asked this lady on the street who was a prostitute.

"Aye hoe. What car should I take?"

"Beamer." she replied.

"Aight." I said, walking away.

I unlocked the doors to my Beamer and got inside, letting the touch screen radio slide out.

"Hello  Fetty wap. Now playing 679. Recorded and written by you." the lady on  the radio said. I smiled as my voice roared throughout the car. I rapped  along with the music, and backed out the garage speeding towards  the warehouse.

"Bitches better be on their A game when I walk in." I said, shutting off the car and parking behind the back.

The guards were at the door and I gave them a head nod, as I dapped them up before walking pass them.

Once I opened the doors, I saw everybody on the couch playing Call of Duty.

"The fuck?" I yelled.

They all jumped up and went back to working.

"Never let me catch y'all slackin' like that again!" I yelled.

"Where the fuck is these niggas at?" I asked the ladies, referring to Mj, Terrence, and D-boi.

"They're in the office sir." A hispanic named Lola told me.

I nodded and made my way towards the office.

They was all sitting down, talking about connecting with the Russians.

"Hell naw man, I though we had this conversation. We don't fuck with the  Russians. Hell, America barely fuck with their ass."I said.

"That's what i'm saying, these niggas still wanna connect with them." Terrence told me.

I laughed, these niggas were stupid, but they my day one niggas, never fold.

"Aye guess what y'all." I said, grabbing a freshly rolled blunt and lightning it.

"Wassup?" Mj asked, and everyone's attention was on me.

I let out a cloud of smoke before talking.

"Tony Fadd called me, and he said Atlantic Records want me in Atlanta Saturday at 1PM."

Their eyes grew wide as everybody dapped me up and congratulated me.

"Damn, I told ya ass that rapping and singing gone go far one day. Yo ass might be the next Tupac."

"Naw, I don't go that hard. I may be cocky, but I don't go harder than Pac dawg." I told D-boi.

"What happens if you get rich off that shit?" Terrence questioned.

"The empire gone belong to y'all my niggas. Imma leave the street shit in the streets."

"Is that right?"  Mj said, leaning in his chair.

"Boss niggas only make boss moves. And to be a boss, you gotta make the right moves." I said, letting out several smoke clouds. My eyes were hooded,  and I was enjoying the moment.

So this is a short little chapter but I'm trying to hurry and end this book, it's not worth doing a sequel but it's worth finishing cause I put a lot of time and effort into the plot of this book. SOO... Yeah.