No Angel • A Chris Brown Story

Part Two

• Part Two •

Compton, California. 2016. Chris POV.

"Ayo ma, is you gon' pass that shit or nah?"

This is exactly why I don't smoke with females. They get stingy with the weed. Like damn, take yo two puffs and pass that shit.

But like always, it was a regular Saturday. Sunny as hell. Hella weed. Music loud as fuck. Homies and random bitches in the house. This was the regular for us.

Unknown people always pulled up to the crib on Saturday no matter what was going on. When my niggas Laith and Myson come over, word gets out that there's a party going on or something so randoms just start flowing in. I ain't complaining though. It be some bad bitches that pull up.

I took a long drag of the blunt and passed it to Myson. "Bruh, you stay inviting these unknown hoes to my crib. I swear I feel like I'm in Mexico or some shit."

He laughed. "Nigga, don't be actin' like you don't like it. Wasn't yo ass JUST in the bathroom with that Ashley chick?"

I flicked him off and looked around the crib. There was more bitches than niggas in here and they always came in packs. I would somehow always end up in a bedroom or bathroom with one of these hoes. They bad but I would never wife 'em. I'm still a young nigga, I ain't trying to settle down for no piece of pussy right now.

For me, these hoes come and go because they know better than to come back to me with that "What are we?" shit. It's either we fucking and you letting that shit go, or we ain't doing nothing. Period.

As far as how I'm living, my house was slick the biggest on the block. It's a few houses that could compare but I still considered mine the biggest.

See, we lived on the upper side of Compton. The more "classier" side as most would call it. Shit was still in the ghetto if you ask me. We still got niggas selling on the corners. Baybay kids playing all in the streets. Shit was nice but it wasn't no Beverly Hills. But just because you living in the ghetto doesn't mean you not getting money.

My nigga Laith got us in this exclusive selling business to get us a lil bit of extra cash. Niggas don't be playing when it come to weed so we always careful when it's time to make a drop. Everybody knows where to come when it's time to get high and that's probably part of the reason these randoms be at my crib on the weekends. We ain't the biggest dealers in Compton but we connected to a lot of them. I try to keep that part of my life on the low, I try not to speak too much on it because it ain't nigga's business. I get extra money the way I want to and if a nigga got a problem, we can get it brackin'.

To me, this shit is normal. This all I'm used to. Me and my mama been here forever and shit ain't ever gon' change. Ever since my pops left, It's just been us. Well, that is, until she met this bitch ass nigga Anthony. They been dating, I guess.

I don't like that man.

I mean he treats my mom with respect and all but he getting too comfortable around here. He be popping up whenever he wants to and shit. I swear if my mom even think about marrying that nigga, It's over. I ain't never liked my real daddy so if this nigga think I'm about to treat him like he my dad or even call him "Dad", he got life fucked up.

But other than that, everything Gucci.

"Ayo Chris, who moving into this house down the street?" Laith asked looking out the window. I don't even remember seeing nobody move out of a house down the block. I got up and looked out the window.