Power.

Money.

Different people have different mindsets when it comes to money. Some people think money can't buy happiness, I do. Ever since I got to this mother fucking check, I been jolly. Some people express their concerns about money related issues by saying that money is the root of all conflict. In some ways I concur, others I don't. I'll put it like this; if a nigga owe me money, he fucking owe me my shit and I want it! My man and I feel the same. Money is a big deal to me because without it, the amount of power I have will be questionable. Money solidifies my position in business and the level of power I have.

"I want my fucking money, Rich!" Kyrie yelled aiming the gun at Rich.

When someone asks us to do something and they offer us money, Kyrie and I are compelled to do whatever is being asked. In doing so, a man is to keep his word.

Rich asked us to kill Luis, a Hispanic coke addict. He worked for Rich...or so he thought. Instead of selling the coke, he had been smuggling the product for himself. He also took part in embezzlement, something Rich hated. Rich also asked us to deliver him a portion of our special package. We obeyed. In return he was to give us 50,000 dollars.

He seemed to be having a hard time getting it to us.

It was about time I put the bat in my hand to good use. I smashed the glass table that Rich had his feet on. "Give me my goddamn money, Rich!" I yelled smashing all the pictures he had on the wall. "You think I give a fuck about these pictures on the wall and this furniture? I did that! We got you here!" I said, while using a knife to tear up his couch cushions.

I stopped and glanced at Rich. He sat in his chair like he didn't give a fuck. At the same time, he sat with a terrified expression, all because we were browbeating him. He began to get up and Kyrie put the gun in his face. "If you not getting up to get my money, sit the fuck down!"

I walked over to Rich and stared down at him while he sat back down. "Rich, you told us that if we kill Luis and deliver you our product, you would have our 50 grand waiting for us when we returned. Now is that not what the fuck you said?" I spat.

He put his hand up to talk. "I'm sorry but the money I have I need it for-" he was cut off by Kyrie.

He walked around me and pushed the gun into Rich's head. "When a man does the job, he's supposed to get paid. You making it seem like I'm begging for some shit which is technically mine!"

"I will get it to you-" Rich was cut off again and Kyrie mushed his head.

"Rich, that's my name on that money. His too! We want it!" I threw the knife at the wall.

"No nigga, I want my shit NOW." he yelled at Rich. The longer this took, the more apoplectic Kyrie became. I could understand why, Rich was being cantankerous and he owed us our money.

One thing my man hated was to beg for something that was technically his. Especially money. "Get the money." he said to me.

I aimed the bat at Rich. "I'm taking out what you owe me." I mean mugged him. I broke the lock off of his safe and I wiped the safe, pouring all the money out into our birkenstock bags.

"We didn't wanna do this the hard way, but we have to do it anyways." I said picking up my AK47.

I looked at Kyrie so he could give me the signal. He nodded his head and I shot Rich dead in his head. He fell back on the couch and Kyrie tied him up. We dragged him out the condo and we put him in our trunk.