HAM (Hard As a Muthaf**ka)

Choco Latte Cafe

Choco Latté Café

                 Mosley Park…niggas playin ball on the concrete courts, baskin in the sunset. Niggas sittin around in they rides, showin off, with they systems bumpin. Niggas standin there lookin fresh for the ladies…and the females that were in the park- some were with they kids, and some females were with their friends. Kant and I pulled in, lookin shit over. “Damn…lots of bitches here! I’m gettin me a number,”

                  I gestured a laugh…since I had banged out Quinna, and got me a Decatur girl on my list, I was good, for a minute. I knew Kant was pissed off because that Hawaiian Silky bitch didn’t break that nigga off, so he wanted to make up for it, by findin him a bad ass lil Westside girl. I was thinkin about trynna find a job, as well as seein what the fuck white people know, about this hard shit I’m slangin. To be truthful, I hadn’t been around too many white people- maybe when their dorky asses get on the Marta train and come to H.E. Holmes to go to Six Flags, or go downtown to go to a Braves game, or a concert…but that’s about it.

                  I aint just, ever hung around them all day…I keep gettin the mental image in my mind of them bein boring, or goofy as fuck like on that TV show, Friends. And then when they do be coming back from Six Flags and have ridden the water rides, some of them be smellin like wet dog. It stinks…but I’m not trynna see how they smell- I’m trynna see if I can sell. So I do see a trip to Little Five Points comin next week. I’m not really fond of the place…back in the day, there used to be a lot of hippie people, skaters, and fuckin skinheads over there. I remember when some skinheads ganged up on this African lady and beat the fuck outta her…them niggas got sent up for 25 on that shit.

                  Nowdays, Little Five done turnt into a yuppie/tourist spot. They built a fuckin Starbucks over there, all the cool lookin shops done turnt into garbage. The only stores that are still open from bein over there a long time, is the Zesto’s, that Amoco Gas Station, and Junkman’s Daughter. All the rest of the cool ass shops, left. But do know, from talkin wit some people, that them yuppie muh fuckas are the biggest fiends…and with the way this economy is goin, I can’t keep sellin to the same broke ass niggas that everyone else is sellin to.

                  “That bish right there is cute as fuck,” said Kantrell. “Let’s see what’s up, J,”

                  We stepped out the car, walking to the group of girls. The girl that Kantrell was lookin at, a nice dark skinned girl with some jeggings on, and faded ass Aeropostale tee, looked to him. “Wassup?”

                  “You tell me,” said Kantrell. “Wassup?”

                  One of her friends looked to me. “Wassup wit yo boy right here?”- she wasn’t ugly, but she wasn’t cute either. She had a bangin body though…one of them chicks that I would call over, when I just can’t get any pussy, anywhere else. I looked to her. “Why don’t you ask me, instead of askin my friend?”

                 “Okay…wassup witchu?”

                 “Nuttin…I’m just chillin wit my boy today. Thought we’d come to the park and hang out since the sun is goin down. What you and yo friends doin here?”

                   I really wasn’t feelin the bitch, but I’m trynna take one for the team… I know Kant is over there workin his mouthpiece, so I have to make nice so he can get the number, and the pussy. I slightly smiled, as the girl I was talkin to, kinda whisked her foot around on the grass. “We just over here chillin for a minute. What’s yo name?”