"You sure bruh?” I asked my homebody Trell.
“Yeah man, my lil brother graduated with her tonight and he goin’ out with em too.” He confirmed as we played 2K in my game room. I nodded my head as I dunked on him with my nigga Lebron winning the game 105-62; I whooped his ass. “Where my money at nigga?” I bragged holding out my hand for the money we bet on the game.
“Man fuck you!” he spat slapping 10 hundreds in the palm of my hand; I had a kool-aid smile on my face.
“Nah I’m straight, I like pussy.” I joked with him sucking his teeth. I laughed again before jogging up the stairs and up to my room to get ready to get this shit over with. I slick ain’t wanna do this cause I ain’t wanna hurt no female, my mamma taught me better than that; plus she ain’t got nothing to do with this and she probably don’t even know anything about it but shit, gotta do what I gotta do.
Well shit, I should probably introduce myself. I’m Marcus, Marcus Smith. I run the streets in the LBC. I used to do business in LA with this man named Damien Harris before the streets claimed his life. I looked up to that man fa’real that’s what made me wanna get my own shit; people worshiped that nigga like he was some type of God and I wanted that type of power. Me and his family was close as hell but when he died we kinda just drifted off in our different ways. I heard his son done too over his empire and he doin pretty good. If it’s one thing that that man taught me is to never let nobody fuck with ya bankroll or ya merchandise and that’s exactly what that bitch nigga Xavier been doin’ like I just wouldn’t find out bout the shit. He been, as they say, ‘getting’ high off his own supply’ with my shit and ain’t givin’ me the money for my shit then he tried to give me some counterfeit money; got me fucked up. I kept askin’ him for my money trynna be nice about the shit but I’m tired of bein nice so ima just take action and show him that I ain’t playin roun with his ass.
I decide to wear my black and white suit with a black bow tie cause I like looking professional on the job. I looked myself over in the mirror and was satisfied before I jogged back down the steps and into the living room where my niggas was at.
“Wessup nigga you clean up nice for a thug.” One of them joked dapping me up.
“Yeah I know that nigga.” I laughed. “Now where you say she gone be at nie?” I asked Trell again.
“Supperclub, downtown LA.” He said.
“Iight well I’m finna head on out there.” I said dappin everybody up before walking out my front door and hopping into my all black Lambo and heading up to LA.
It was around 12:15 by the time I got to the club; the drive took about an hour and a half. From the outside it looked hella packed and the line was long as fuck. I drove around to the back of the club where my homeboy George was gone open the door for me since he worked there as a bouncer. I knocked three times like he instructed me to do earlier so that he would now it was me and the door opened instantly.
“Wessup man.” He smiled dappin’ me up as I walked in.
YOU ARE READING
The Way That I Love You
RomanceTrashae Harris was a beautiful girl who was focused on nothing but her education and her best friends, Victoria and Jace. They were as thick as thieves and so were her and her drug lord brother Damien Harris. But that all changes when she meets Xavi...
