L Trains

One: Crime Pays. [Part I]

                                                                                              Present

Growing up in the hood taught me one thing--you gotta hustle. Hustlin' has many components that make it whole, just like Fort Minor's Remember The Name; ten-percent luck, twenty-percent skill, fifteen-percent concentrated power of will, five-percent pleasure, and fifty-percent pain. Hustle runs through my veins like an infectious disease. It embodies all of my organs because it's all I've ever known.

I hated the fact that I had to sling weed to keep food in my family's mouths. With the way our societies are set up, hustlin' was the only nine-to-five offered to black men besides sitting on your ass awaiting your next welfare check. I refused to watch my family depend on the system for anything.

I got on my grind when I was seventeen years old. My first child, Kareem Tristen Reid, was born July 4th, 2008 at Kings County Hospital Center. Kareem is the highlight of my life. He was the reason why I was a man; him and Mariah. They were who I planned on living my life for.

Money was tight when Kareem was born. Mariah and I sacrificed our educations in order to care for Kareem. Mariah worked at a McDonalds for minimum wage, while I set my aspirations on working at a Foot Locker in Downtown Brooklyn. As expected, I didn't get the job. Down and out on my own luck, I resorted to the streets for financial assistance. That's where I should've started, now that I think about it. It was all history after I started putting in work; I was bringing racks home left and right. I was so successful, that I was able to rent and furnish an apartment in Canarsie for myself, Mariah, and Kareem.

I'm still fuckin' with crime 'cause crime pays/ 

(I never changed) Out hustlin'/ 

Same clothes for days/ 

(C'mon!) I never changed/ 

I'm too stuck in my ways/ 

I never change....

I nodded my head rhythmically to Urban Noize's Never Chasing Pavement mash-up. while I typed the last sentence of my paper on my laptop. Being that I had backed up GED homework that was due at midnight, I had been focused all day long. Periodically, I'd take a break from it to use the bathroom or check up on Kareem, who was sitting beside my legs watching Monsters Inc. for the millionth time.

It was eight-thirty in the night, Karma's bed time. I looked down at Kareem, who was slouching his shoulders somnolently.

"It's time for bed, 'Reem." I told him as I removed the laptop off of my lap. Kareem groaned slightly. I chuckled and picked him up. Getting into his room, I turned on his night light. I pushed Kareem's sheets back before putting him on his twin-sized bed. Tucking him in, I kissed him on his forehead.

"Good night, little guy." I said with a smile.

Before I could fully leave his room, I heard his baby voice. "Daddy?" Kareem called to me.

"Yeah?" I turned around to face him.

"Can you tell me a bedtime story?"

I smiled. I walked back over to his bed and laid right beside him. Looking at him, I asked, "Which one do you wanna hear tonight?"

"I don't know-" Kareem stopped abruptly before turning his little body around to face me. He smiled excitedly; his dimple caved in deep. "Ooh! Tell me another person's part of the unfair story!"