A Killer's Heart... Complete

Introductions

"Yo bring your ass here little girl. Stop looking at that fucking window, ain't no blue skies out there. Nigga you in the hood. The sunshine in the white part of town."

My dad is a killer, a poet, and real. He has been holding down this street for 15 years now. In drug years that mean he can collect a petition. No one out here last that long. One raise like the sun and disappear like one too. Just that quick. To me my dad earned respect. Niggas in these streets hate to cross him. Even though we never seen him dropped bodies, the fear of the thought he can do it with a blink of an eye can still bring a nigga running.

" Shut the fuck up, boy. She alright. Com mere sweetie. Daddy a dick but him means good."

My mom is the true statement; behind every good man is a great woman. She is THE hustler in the streets. Niggas move when they see her walk the street. 5'7 145 redbone with hazel eyes. She bad to the bone. And if you try her, she got your head.

"Baby girl, you keep looking and dreaming. The sky's the limit. You look up in the stars and keep putting your thoughts to reality. You getting out the hood for real."

I always wonder what she meant. Mrs. Lanori Moore never left the hood. She has been trapping, walking, and beating bitches down for 15 years. To me, she the smartest person I know. She takes the time being there for the neighborhood kids when their own parents can't. Taking them to school with me, picking them up and feeding them before sending back home to their pitiful mother's. Pops, on the other hand, love these streets of Bad News. From the Bronx, he moves to the South. He thought these country niggas were too slow. You use to called them county rats. So many, but most don't want to get out of the trash. Whatever that means. It took a minute but he learn to respect them and they respect him back.

Me, I grew up spoiled but my pops gave a quick course on how to handle a gun, men and even bitches. I can say I got everything I wanted but it came with a hard lesson on life.

"Come here child, always remember, nothing comes for free...not even dick! So, always work on your own. Don't depend on no one. And always keep a piece on you, don't know when niggas are going to try your ass, so be ready "

Like I said my dad is a poet.

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8 years later

"Pearl, don't, don't do this. Tell your pops I give him he's money! I swear!", yelled Big Jay.

"Shut the fuck up nigga, you been saying that same shit to my boy Luke two weeks ago. Now you seeing me. And I told your ass you don't want to see me."

"You know I got robbed 2 weeks ago, you know it's going to take a min to get up 100k.", explained Big Jay.

"We gave you two weeks."

As I look at this nigga down in the dark basement, tied to a chair, all I can hear my Pops voice. I had to do the job. And when Pops calls me for a job, I know niggas out there was not doing theirs. I stood there waiting for any word from my partner Dee, to hit me back. I wanted to raid he's secret spots Big Jay have around town to see he hid some money. I told Dee to go to his chick spot first. Cause that's what dumb ass niggas do around here.

yo

What's good

Yo, the block is clear

Good, come to me

"I think you been keeping secrets, Big Jay.", staring Big Jay down.

I got off my chair and walk closer to him. I can see his eyes got bigger and more tears falling down he's eyes. Why do niggas cry when they get caught in their shit? He was not popping this shit weeks ago.

"No, that's not the money. That's my money, I'll be saving for years."

I pulled out my machete, all black handle with ivory carvings, engraved with my nickname, Pearl. Everyone knows what happens when I pull out my buddy. My Pops gave me this machete for my 17th birthday. 2 days later, he ordered me to kill Trey T on 28th street. I was still new in handling it, but I got the hang of it after a couple of kills.

"So what about my Pops money? That not right to have him waiting. But don't worry Jay, he doesn't have to wait no more.", while swinging my pearl.

" Look if you get me out of this I can get you more. There is money at my Maryland spot and my D.C. crib. I got my bother handling the money for. "

With one slice I shut his ass up. I couldn't hear that shit anymore. We got the money we needed. There is no more to say or plead for. If there was more money I get my niggas on it. I got all the answers I need.

"Clean this shit up. We got to hurry up and collect the money.", I ordered my crew. I need to text pops.

Hey Daddy, things are alright. I just got my tuition money back.

Oh, great don't forget to clean up your room.

I never do, dad. I call you when I get home. Love you.

Love you too...my Pearl.

Hey everyone...I hope you enjoy this story....can't wait for your feedback.