Savage Of The City

Chapter One: Back To The Basics

DJ

5 years later

"Mr. Williams, as part of your probation you are not to possess or be in the presence of firearms. You are not allowed to smoke or possess any illegal street drugs, including but not limited to other people's prescriptions. You will be administered random UA's, and I will not tolerate any dirty drops, or you'll find yourself back in prison. You will be provided with a job that you must maintain, meet with me once a week, and be home for curfew. Failure to comply with any of my rules will result in you going to get your salad tossed by Billy Bob from C Block. Are we understood?"

That was Ms. Rosa Quintana, my new PO. She was a huge fucking cunt, and I was stuck with her for the next two years.

The judge was lenient. Seven years for illegal possession of a firearm and keeper of a drug house. Five years in, two years on papers.

He was a real nigga for keeping a murder charge out of the list of charges. Judge Cornelius had pulled me to his chambers to let me know that he would've reacted the same in order to preserve his own life. But he couldn't let me slide on all the charges. I did my five years on all ten toes. A couple niggas tried me, but I held my own. I got jumped though, and they got the best of me and stomped me. Broke a couple of my ribs, broke my nose, fractured my left leg in three places, and knocked a couple of my back teeth out.

I couldn't go to the Infirmary though. That's where all the snitches go. I made them put me in solitary confinement. 78 days in the hole... 78 days of rest and recuperation. Then I got put back in general population. When I finally made it back to my cell, niggas looked at me different. It almost seemed like they respected me.

My bestfriend Rico picked me up from the joint and gave me a ride back to the hood after my bid. He's helping me get back on my feet right now. The nigga even took me to go meet with Ms. Quintana.

Rico: "Aye fool, Mr. Harris got a couple properties for sell by the lake. We finna go check them bitches out. Consider it my way of repaying you for always looking out for me. You like the brother I never had nigga. It's not much, but I know you ain't tryna be living by another mufucka's rules. This way you'll have yo own spot. And it's a bag with 479 g's in it. But I'm paying for the crib separately. Get yo crib laid out and go grab something fat off the lot. I cant have yo ugly ass fucking up my plans or bumming it on the bus."

DJ: "That's real love right there bro. It feel good as a bitch to be from behind them walls. I can finally think without feeling confined."

Rico: "We got some serious bidness to tend to in a couple days my nigga, so hurry up and get yo shit together."

4 Hours Later

Me and Rico checked out like 7 different properties before I fell in love with a beautiful, all-white, Victorian-style estate in Whitefish Bay, not far from Bayshore Mall, on Silver Spring & Lake Drive.

DJ into the phone: "Yeah, Mr. Harris. I want that property on Lake Drive. Start drawing up the paperwork. I'm dropping straight cash. I hope that motivates you to hurry up. I'm tryna move in tonight. Yeah. Yeah. Aight, I'll meet you at yo office when I leave the dealership to sign everything."

Rico was driving me to the car dealership so we could part ways for the day and I can go pick out all my furniture and shit. I ain't gone lie, I wanted to smoke so fucking bad, but I didn't know if my PO was cool like that or not.