The Grab

The Works

"What's the count yo?" Markus Williams aka Crow, a big time drug dealer who works for an even bigger drug organization, The "Downes" organization, asks. "About 357, chief." Brandon Westin replies. Brandon is a thin tall boy with a short brown fro and brown eyes and brown skin. He is Crow's most trusted corner boy. Crow himself is a tall athletic built man with a bald head and a beard. "Shit, shops been open for an hour and these fiends is treating us well, don't you think, Crow?" Crow sucks his teeth and stares off in the distance. "Shit, Brandon... I've been dealing since I was 15 yo. That was 1983 yo. Shit, fiends was all over the place and they always made us sell out yo. Dealing just ain't the same no more you ask me." Crow replies. "Shit, n***a you looking to retire yo?" Brandon scoffs. "Fuck no man. 35 and the game is still young in me shorty. Shit mother fuckers my age are either long dead or in jail." Crow replies. "Shit man you right you right. Honestly I don't know about me man." Brandon says. "What you talking about, boy?" Crow says. "I don't know man it's just, I don't want to die young you know. N***as be dying and they younger than me. I don't know if I'll make it to your age." Brandon's words make Crow reminisce about his friends who died when he first started. "Shit I know lots of guys you know. Quan, Runner Boy, Gerald. All boys like me. My n***as. But shit, they dead now, but I ain't. It's called luck mother fucker. Luck shorty." Crow says. "I'm only 16 yo. Soon man...I just want to move on." Crow looks at Brandon with a confused look. "Some day I just want to get a job, n***a. I don't know just live." Brandon continues. "I feel you....I always wanted to quit... live... get a job.... and a girl... and just live too man." Crow says. "You a lieutenant though man. You get lot of money don't you? Why ain't you stop" Brandon says in confusion. "I can't....as I said man... game is still young in me. It's like I'm addicted to this shit or something man." Crow says. "I feel you man. I don't wanna die but I love this shit here yo." Brandon says with a kind of shame in his voice.

"Yoooooo Crow what up!!" Ant yells as he walks down the street, ruining the moment the two drug dealers had. "What's up man. You ready for work?" Crow says. The two fist bump and ant flips up his hood. All the corner boys and the leader wear black hoodies to make them all look almost the same to any cops who may be searching for them. It makes it harder to identify who is who, and gives the leader enough time to get away if the cops look for specifically him. All the boys are almost the same height and their body mass is hidden as the hoodies are baggy. This only worked twice but if it works... it works. "Most definitely, man. Yo Brandon take a break yo." Ant says with a smirk. "Alright, see you." Brandon says as he fists bumps both of the men and walks off. "Yo who's he, Ant?" Crow asks. He points to Andre. "He my friend Dre. He was just walking with me, don't worry." Ant explains. "Yeah. I'll see you later Ant." Andre says as he fist bumps Ant and walks off. Crow stares him down. After Andre is at a reasonable distance Crow gives Ant an angry look. "Look yo, don't be bringing your fucking friends round here, N***a. I don't care if he's your best fucking friend. You bring his ass around, one time sees his ass and they gonna involve him I told you that." Crow angrily exclaims. "Man I know man I know! He just came with me yo so lay the fuck off man all due fucking respect!" Ant yells. "Man you young mother fuckers got no brain I swear to god. You're gonna get your friend in jail with your dumbassness." Crow says. "Pfff. That's not even a word yo." Ant mumbles. "Mother fucker! I ask?!" Crow exclaims as Ant shakes his head.