what about us|aaliyah

twenty-three

y'all finally about to see shit from allen's point of view 😩. hold on though, how allen been fine his whole life though 😍😭 shiet.

allen

"ayo, tommy how much we making off this shit man?" i asked the ring leader of this whole operation.

"don't ask me no fucking questions, man!" he paced around the room, smoking on a blunt.

"chill out, tommy." his bitch, keisha said. she walked over to him and grabbed his face. "we not gettin' raided."

"got that shit right." he began, while putting out his blunt. "if he ratted is out, he's fucking dead!"

one of tommy's old niggas left and the spot been hot ever since. that's where i came in at, i took that weak ass nigga place. so here go tommy, panicking like usual. that weed fucking him up to be honest, i think that shit be laced & that's word to the mutha'.

i left school and didn't return home. i had business to handle and money to make. i leaned back in the raggedy chair, while i twisted a baggy of crack cocaine up. just as i was twisting it around, the fucking police busted in.

"get on the fucking ground!" they yelled at us. my heart began to race and one of the officers grabbed me by the collar of my shirt and threw my to the ground.

i could hear keisha screaming like she was being murdered or some shit. "stop screaming, bitch!"

all the commotion, screaming, yelling and cursing. it made me feel sick to my stomach, i should've never even got involved with this shit. the money was quick and fast, even taught me how to rob niggas and get some quick ass. the day aaliyah seen the money was when i should have stopped, but like tommy told me 'it ain't that easy to be dropped.' moving weight, killing people. all for the dollar, wanting big figures. shit don't make no sense because now i'm fucked up. to jail i go, just my fucking luck.

"aye, don't talk to her like that!" tommy yelled as they pushed him against the cold cement wall and handcuffed him.

when they lifted me off of the ground, my vision became blurred. i tried to scream, but nothing came out. just like that, i was out of it...seeing nothing but darkness....

"wake yo punk ass up." i could feel someone shaking me, roughly. i quickly jumped out of my sleep and i looked around.

i was in a processing room. "how long i been out?" i asked the officer, who helped me stand up.

"long enough." he told me, roughly grabbing my arm, making me walk towards the desk.

"have fun in the holding cell my friend." he joked. i felt the urge to throw up anything i'd eaten. i shivered as they began to ask me my information. oh how i wanted to cry so bad, i can't let these niggas see me emotional. they gon' think i'm a bitch or something.

after they processed me in, they pushed me on a dirty white wall. as they took my mug shot, my mind raced back to the day i ran into tommy and keisha.

"yo, shorty." a y'all dark-skinned man nudged me. i ignored him and continued on arguing. i was in the line at the gas station, arguing with the cashier.

"nigga, you already sent the gas to the fuckin' pump!" i began "you non-english speaking bitch!" i yelled angrily.

"aye, man." the dark-skinned man threw twenty-dollars on the counter. "i payed for his shit." he said.

i looked over at him and examined his clothes. i could tell he wasn't doing no legal shit, him and his girl was too fucking fly. she looked me up and down  and licked her lips at me. i quickly looked away as the dark-skinned man, looked at me.

"names tommy, but call me bundy." he told me, shaking my hand. "follow me outside?" he asked

i nodded slowly and followed him outside in the cool detroit weather. keisha's heels clacked behind us, as she headed to the car. tommy stopped next to my car and began to talk.

"you seem like you strugglin' b." he chuckled, pulling out a blunt.

"kind of, being a high school student is hard. not behind accepted into my dream college made matters worse." i sighed

"you look like the hooping type." tommy told me. i nodded and spoke "i hooped and played football."

"nice." he nodded "but check this, i'mma keep it g wit' you. i need another man to help move weight, i ain't from out here and his scary ass up and ditched us." he told me

"how much imma' make?" i asked him, rubbing my chin.

"how ever much you want to, young blood." he puffed on his blunt, blowing the smoke into the cool air.

i nodded as he spoke again. "listen, i sold my soul to the devil... the price was cheap... it was cold on this level... it was twice as deep.... sometimes that's the only reason why I hustle...robbin niggas just as broke as myself... fuckin' in queens aint no good for a niggas health...but wheres the wealth? it aint in new york though... that's why I gotta do whatever for the dolla fucka'... you know me tommy brown." he told me. "queens was a bitch, too many niggas doing the same shit." 

"shit, i'm down."

"next!" the officer yelled. i was forcefully grabbed and drug away from the cheap ass camera.

"where tommy at?" i asked the officer.

"just as quick as we arrested him, he made bail. not for long though, he'll be back. still gotta investigate the rest of y'all fucked up situation." he said, opening my cell for me.

me and him was supposed to be like brotha's, but fuck it? ain't no friends in the dope game...just wack niggas tryna' eat. shit, fuck the pie, want a slice of the devils pie. i wonder why i didn't get bailed out? shit. i began to mumble as they threw me into a holding cell.

"cause revenge is all a nigga think about in the end, but I'm goin' on a binge, brother, to my sins. fuck y'all niggas. born by myself, die by myself. place the triggers. and if you don't know don't know what it's gon' be in the end... t minus 3, 2, 1...amen....."