A Doll In a Dog's Eye

4

           

Time was money. Money was time; time to make it, time to lose it. Whichever one you did, was solely up to you. See money, the love of money, has the power to make people to the craziest things. To others, they make so much of it that it doesn't bother them, so they waste it. Only a few really save and pour back into the main reason for getting out here and getting this shit. Some can make up to 2400 in 24 minutes, some 24,000. Some can't make 24 dollars in 24 hours. That's where Aubree came in, with the big money getters. She had studied and helped Dre create a pattern for moving dope and collecting money. Over the past two years that Dre had been on lock down, Aubree thrived exceptionally well. Now, Aubree had become the type of female that said 'making money was no object'. However, making money, no matter the arena took hard work. Work to survive, work to live.

            To survive and live may seemingly mean the same thing to you, but in the hood, these are two totally different entities; two completely different stories. Survival- More than making it on a day to day, holding your own, and never allowing a motherfucker the power to see you sweat or trick you out your position. Survival in the game around the way, let's say you doing a drop off, and someone drops a dime or some part of the operation goes wrong, if you handle your business like a man, or a woman, and make it out...you survive.

            To live, well to live means to hold your own on a different level. Never back down from or fear anything or any of your enemies and to experience all your desires. Experiencing life and all it has to offer daily, while being 10 toes down, holding your own. If you don't fold, you're living, but when it's over, you're done.

            "Yo, Aubree! You looking damn good," yelled a dude across the street. It had been two years and Aubree was now flossing in her brand new Corvette, while curving and ignoring compliments and hater stares. Top down, enjoying the breeze through her hair. She already knew she was bad, and didn't care for it to be screamed at her. Her music was blasting and the traffic was flowing smoothly.

            "Damn."Aubree said as she eased on her breaks to stop for the traffic light.

Shortly after turning green, a dude jumps into Aubree's car.

            "What the fuck..."Aubree says reaching for her gun under the seat.

            "It's me!" The dude replied lifting his ski mask and looking over his shoulders for the cops in the distance who were tailing him.  "Justice!" said looking at Aubree.

            "Justice?!" Aubree questioned, shocked as Justice looked over his shoulders with the money bag hanging out of his shirt.

            "Aub, Drive!" Justice demanded hearing the sirens approaching and with that being said Aubree mashed the gas.

With the feds on her tail, and a long lost Justice in her passenger, she began switching lanes, and running red lights like it was second nature to her. She moved so swiftly through traffic that she lost the cops two exits ago she was just still going off of adrenaline.

            "Long time no see." Justice started, taking off of his mask completely. "I'm surprised you drive that fast. Last time I saw you, you couldn't even pump gas. You shook them off like it was second nature or something."

            "Well now you do."Aubree scowled. "I just bought this shit, now I have to torch it already..."

Smiling, "Damn, where you learn this much about the game from? Hell have you been up to?"

            "You tell me Mr. Class President. I knew that shit was a front."

            "You call it a front, I call it being well rounded...The key to mastering the art of finesse."