Guns & Roses || (August Alsina)

40.

Quincy

Sitting across from joe I watched him speak to one of the many men he had wit him. Landing my eyes on my golden Rolex I instantly pinched the bridge of my nose trying to contain myself from spazzing on this man. He had come back to LA a day later then what he told us and now I was sitting with him tryna figure out if I made the right move by making him one of my many connects.

"Time is money Joe" I spoke shutting they're whole conversation down. Nigga really had me sitting here like I'm the maid. Watching them chop it up like a dumbass.

"Oh" He turned to me with a slick laugh.
"My apologies, very rude of me. Now that you've mentioned it time is indeed money but I use my time wisely... I'm not sure about you"

"An' what the fuck does that mean" I furrowed my brows. I had no clue what this dude was hinting at. He was evidently being a smart ass and it was pissing me off by the second.

"Exactly what was said. While I've been doing what I need to do you haven't. You've been—how do I say, very ghost lately?" He placed his hands together sitting back in his chair. His white ass had me fucked up.

"I have priories to handle before any of this shit an' let's be clear. You're here only cause of me. I make sure I do what I need to do. You ain't my boss. I'm the head of this mothafucker you just a partner of mine" I leaned forward. I will admit like I always do, my head hasn't been in the game only cause I was over this shit. This life was slowly coming to an ultimate end for me. Although I swear by nobody being able to take a nigga out I know the streets ain't have love for nobody. The smart side of me understands at the end of the day tomorrow isn't promised for anyone. I'm not untouchable. I want a future so it's either one or the other.

"Being that I'm the reason you're getting paid I suggest you choose your words wisely boy"

Tilting my head slightly to the side I let out a laugh.

"Joe, you snortin' our shit or what? The only nigga responsible for the increased income you an' I are getting is me. That lil weak ass operation you got in Chicago ain't shit an' you know it. After what I saw when I went up there, them niggas couldn't get half of what my men get even if I handed them a manual wit instructions, so cut all that shit you talkin. Those millions you got in your pocket came because of me an' the shit I got already up an' fucking running for myself. An' you ain't gone call me no boy again"

Squinting his eyes at me he shifted himself in his chair. Although Joe carried himself like he was some kingpin, cartel ass nigga he wasn't. He was a sucka and I saw right through all that. I agreed to work with him only because he was a idiot who swore he ran game. I knew that if the feds ever tried to raid a nigga he would be an easy target so that'll get them off my ass, but at this point, ion care. I was over everything. Including his weak ass.

"As a matter of fact" I stood to my feet. Dusting my clothes off I cleared my throat with an amused smirk.

"As of today, I'm removing you as a connect. I'm done workin wit you an' ya people. Let's not forget I'm top tier in this sport. I gained no additional money off of ya part, in fact, I just lost a hunnid grand. Anything, anybody you left in my building you could collect them but you ain't my portna no more. Figure shit out on ya own. Y'all bitch ass niggas have a good day" I walked out his bland ass house going to my car. I wasn't finna wait for a response, I had shit to do.

Starting the engine I put it in drive making my way to the trap back in Compton.

"Wassam" I said to everyone as I walked in.

"Wassup Yung" Zion said.

"Shit. I just dropped Joe's pink ass" I sat down removing the blunt from behind my ear.