"Can't nothing keep ya' boy down."
-- Dre
Weed is the best thing ever introduced to man-fucking-kind 'cause if it wasn't for these fat ass blunts I been smoking back to back lately I would've lost my muthafuckin mind. It's just something about knowing I got a nigga that owe me money still walking the streets without a fucking care in the world that gets under my skin. Especially now since I broke my ankle.
After me and Mack left out of Omanda's momma back door chasing after Brown's bitch-ass it was like the nigga disappeared into thin air. Since it was a privacy fence on each side of the yard me and Mack decided to split up. Unfortunately, his fat ass couldn't hop the fence, and when I did get over I fell directly on my ankle on the other side. God had to be on that nigga side.
Now I'm rolling with my boy, KyJuan, to meet up with a small connect we got from over the boarder. I been in the streets since I moved out my Momma's house, but shameful to say, I always been at the bottom of the pyramid. No matter how hard I try I also been in the same position, a fucking corner boy. A nigga like me get tired of stacking small chips sooner than later, so a nigga gotta do what he gotta do even if it means death if Big Jr, the nigga I been putting in work for since I was sixteen, finds out.
"Damn," KyJuan groans, pullin.g on the blunt I passed him minutes ago for the fifth time while keeping one hand on the wheel, "This some good shit. What's in this shit?"
I snatch the blunt from his hand, "Puff puff past, nigga," I tell him before putting it to my own lips, "Greedy ass hogging up my shit. Don't worry 'bout it, just know it's a special blend, nigga."
"Cripple mothafucka," I heard him mumble as we took the next exit off of I-10.
Just for that last remark I enjoyed the rest of the blunt by my damn self as we pulled up to a old warehouse that looked like some shit from a horror movie about fifteen minutes later.
Before KyJuan could even stop his Charger good I was reaching for the door handle. The only thing that stopped me was the bitch made question he let leave his mouth.
"Man, do you really think this is a good idea?"
I snapped my head in his direction like he just told me he was gay now or some shit. "Nigga, I know you ain't scared," I told him in disgust. Here I am trying to get this muthafuckin money and here this nigga go hesitating like a lil biatch.
"Get the fuck out of here. Hell naw I'an scared," he said, trying to sound all hard n'shit, "I'm just saying, if we go in there, my nigga, ain't no turning around."
What ever decisions you make in life there's never no 'turning around'. The choices you make today you gon' have to live with those bitches for the rest of your life and right now I'm making a choice to get fucking money. I don't know about him, but that's a choice I'm willing to live with now and into eternity, so I grabbed one of my crutches from the back seat and got my ass out the car.
" When you finish twiddling your fingers and contemplating like a female I'ma be inside gettin' Benjamin's, nigga," I told him before slamming the door.
Fucking bitch-ass nigga.
When I made it to the warehouse's big, rusty-ass door I banged on it twice while holding a crutch under my arm and standing on my good leg. I can't believe my shit broke, just thinking about it make me wanna go hunt Brown down and kill his ass with my bare hands.
The door slid open with a loud bang by a skinny, young Mexican looking mothafucka. He looked me over, and when his eyes caught sight of my crutch he swallowed a laugh. "Come in, man," he said with almost a better nigga voice than mine.
As soon as I hopped in muthafuckas took one look at me and started laughing like they was in a damn comedy show and I was the stand up guy.
"Ha ha ha," I mimicked them with a mug on my face, "Don't let the crutch fool you niggas."
"Damn, what happ-ened, yo?" A short motherfucka with a thick Spanish accent joked, "A midget puta kicked ju in de leg?"
More laughter.
"Alright, alright that's enough even tho' the shit is funny as hell."
I turn around to the rough, gravely voice feeling like I was about to piss in my fucking draws.
"Might as well send a prayer up to Heaven 'cause you and that damn crutch finna get broke into two, nigga," Big Jr grumbles, coming at me with a iron bat in his hands.
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A / N :
:-P at Dre
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