by De'Kari
Na’Shay stood there looking down at her mother for a full minute before she budged. All she thought was if the loss of a man could do you like this then she was glad that she liked women and not men. What she was too young to realize was a man didn’t cause this nor the loss of a man, it was love! Love wrongfully detached.
Dutifully she did as she was instructed.
She was now seventeen and her brother was sixteen. Both of T’Rida’s children had turned out okay despite having to literally raise themselves for the last seven years. Na’Shay was the spitting image of her mother. Beautiful, but she had T’Rida’s fire. She was as stubborn as a mule, like him as well. She also inherited his height. She stood nearly six feet. Unfortunately, for her brother and her mother, she’d inherited her mother’s body.
Choppa-T stood six foot and weighed 270lbs. The boy was a pure beast. He resembled his mother in the face but got his size and behavior all from his father. He was a gentle giant until those buttons were pushed. He wouldn’t know this yet because they hadn’t been pushed yet, but they were going to.
Na’Shay finished way before he did, so after she got Monique dressed in the bathroom, her brother carried his mother into Na’Shay’s bed. Then he finished taking care of her room. Things needed to change! He knew exactly what he was going to do.
Oakland, California
“Cuzzo, I understand what you’re saying and that only adds more leverage on my side of the field. My nigga, you’ve neva been selfish. For you it’s always the team first and that’s why you make such a damn good leader.” Gunz looked over at Big Rocc “what type of nigga gets an opportunity to be the mothafucka. Do the damn fool when he does, and doesn’t have a problem going back to second in command once the boss returns?”
He threw his arms out to the side as if to say, “nigga tell me.”
“G, you know niggaz ain’t moving like that!” Roc told him after blowing a cloud of Grand Daddy out.
Gunz played off the momentum, “Exactly! If it was anybody else, mothafuckas been tryna figure out how to kill me just to make sure they hold the spot.” Gunz words were true in every hood throughout the U.S…the laws of the streets made it that way.
A.J. finally spoke up. “Brah, look man, it’s simple, before you left you entrusted me with something valuable. All I did was keep it safe until you returned like you asked. You back nigga, take yo spot.”
“You not getting it, Cuzzo, ain’t no spot for me to take. Check it out.” Gunz decided to take a different approach. He sat down and began rolling a blunt.
“Lil Cousin, a nigga is really feeling this positive shit that Dok is on and I’ma lean my energy more towards that.” The blunt was now rolled, he lit it and took a couple pulls before he continued. “You know if you need me, I’m here anytime, but the streets are yours, blood. As a real nigga, I’m honored that you would relinquish the spot for me, but it’s yours cuzzo. You and Rocc hold it down.”
“Nigga, y’all gotta see this shit!” DeeDee came running into the office shouting like he’d just seen the livest concert ever. “Dis shit been all over the internet all day. Blood, check this shit out!” He yelled as he grabbed the remote to the T.V.
They were all in Gunz back office at the Koffee Shop. The 85” Smart T.V. came to life.
“To recap Jim, our sources tell us that at least thirteen local law enforcement agents have either been murdered or presumed murdered along with a federal D.E.A. agent. Now Jim, all of these murders have in fact, gone unsolved and actually have been covered up by our local law enforcement until now. KTVU Fox 2 has exclusive rights to the footage that you are about to see. A video of the latest killing.
In the rising wake of unpunished police brutality and the so-called justified killings of hundreds of innocent African-Americans through-out the county, it is clearly evident from the footage that someone has said enough is enough!
“We would like to take this time to advise all of you viewers at home that the following footage is extremely graphic. We warn and advise that all children under the age of eighteen be removed from the viewing area!”
“DeeDee what you done turned on the damn screen?” A.J. knew whatever it was had to be some real gangsta shit to have DeeDee so hyped
“Just watch, nigga!” DeeDee called out with a devilish grin on his face.
Right on cue the video came to life on the screen. It was the darkened version that the cops first had.
“Oh shit!” Came from A.J. the moment officer Horsely opened the drivers door and found the dead Ranger. “Yo what the fuck is that on his lap?”
“Now, see dat’s some mothafuck’n gangsta shit! Got dat bitch handcuffed, butt ass, fucking naked wit his own cuffs. Now dat’s some ole school shit!” Big Rocc’s attention and interest was finally peeked.
Just when everyone thought the video was done, a large warning strip rolled across the screen. What followed was a cleaned up, clear version of the video that had just gone off. Vivid and graphic in every detail.
“Nigga, I’m just saying, I bet Black Lives start to matter in this bitch now!” DeeDee yelled out excitedly.
“Brah, did them rats just really eat through his body like that?” A.J. didn’t ask anyone in particular.
“Lil Nigga, you saw them bite their way out dat fat mothafuckas stomach, didn’t you?” Big Rocc hated dumb ass questions.
The only person not to speak was Gunz and he had good reason. A damn good reason. He paid attention to every single detail. The anchor woman was back talking.
“This video was anonymously sent to our station just a little past ten this morning. The hours that followed were spent researching the allegations.
So far, we are able to confirm the following; Lt. Boots of the San Mateo County Sheriff’s Department, Detective Rick Jenson of the Milpitas Police Department, Sergeant Henry Costa, of the Milpitas Police Department, Detective Diana Richards of the Santa Clara County Sheriff’s Department, Officer Henry Peterson of Menlo Park P.D. and an officer from the San Mateo County Sheriffs have all been killed in the past few months while eight other Officers have gone missing and are presumed dead.
I have it on good authority that a Drug Enforcement Agency agent who had gone under cover was also murdered. The same source has informed our station that the Federal Government has sent agents to help solve what appears to be a serial cop killer…”
If what he saw wasn’t bad enough, at the mention of the feds Gunz picked up his phone and scrolled to Dok’s number in his contacts. His blunt was almost gone. He gestured to DeeDee to roll him another. He needed the mothafucka now. The rest of them were busy making up scenarios of what they would do if a cop pulled them over.
“Cuzzo, we got a problem.” was all he said when Dok picked up.
“One bigger than you think, my brotha.” Was Dok’s response before he hung up.
Gunz grabbed the remote control from off the desk where DeeDee placed it.
“Shut down everything in the streets! Everything! I want new phones and new numbers for everybody. No, as a matter of fact I want every last resource we got spent on buying throw-away and go-phones. I want five hundred of them, now!” Gunz tone and speaking pattern was calm, but his raging emotions was evident to all…except one.
“G, what them crazy mothafuckas killing cops got to do with us?” DeeDee was so engrossed in the news he didn’t see the fire in Gunz eyes.
“I know my orders ain’t being questioned.” The calm was still there. A true General didn’t need to yell.
“I…N…No….G, I wasn’t questioning…”
“Well get to carrying them out.” Gunz couldn’t help thinking the little nigga needed a lot of discipline.
DeeDee hopped up with the quickness, stumbling over his feet as he made a B-line to the front door to do just what he should’ve done from the jump.
A.J. couldn’t help the laughter that erupted from him, nor did he try to.
“Leave the street shit to me and Rocc. You’re moving on to the positi
ve shit.” He couldn’t stop laughing.
“We got a problem and if we don’t solve it, won’t be no more street shit or positive shit!” As he hit the blunt DeeDee dropped on the desk when he jumped up. Gunz knew he had their attention then!
**** N. D. ****
Chapter IX
East Palo Alto
“Nigga, I’m just saying the whole hood thought you was gone. First mothafucka hear that you got shot up over by McDonalds. Then, the next thing a mothafucka hears is the fucking paramedics done got airborne, Whoosh,” Linell made a gesture with his hand like something flew off a ramp. “They say, Nigga, da ambulance looked like an Olympic high diver. Nigga 101 was shut down like eight hours, bro.” With all his excitement and movement, all the weed should’ve fell out of the blunt Linell was rolling, but this nigga was a pro. He ain’t drop one single flake or crumb off the cookies.
“Nigga, the shooting was real! Nigga, I got hit twice once in the shoulder and once in the leg.” He lifted his Gucci shirt to show him the bullet wound.
“Nigga, the one that hit a nigga in the leg, got me all fucked up. Had to get a rod and shit, nigga, I can’t even bend my leg all the way.” Clark grimaced as he remembered the pain he’d felt that night.
“My nigga, you was supposed to be bussin' back!” L took a minute to light the blunt.
“How you gone tell me bout bussin', when you bout to go hit in the yard behind punching on a nigga?”
“Oh, oh, but I beat that mothafucka’s ass though.” Linell reminded him.
“Hold up.” Clark told him as he dug in his pocket for his ringing phone.
This phone didn’t have any contacts saved in it. So, the number is foreign to him.
“Hello?” If he didn’t recognize the voice, he’d hang up fast.
“Nigga, you got a lot of mothafuck’n nerves.” His sisters voice was definitely one he recognized. “I mean here it is a mothafucka’s on the verge of a breakdown and I gotta hear it from the streets that I’m crying for nothing! I’m saying though, where they do that at?”
With all that was going on, he had forgotten to hit French Tip and run shit down to her.
Linell could hear her every word as she went in on Clark viciously.
“Sis, look…”
“No, mothafucka, you look. Just mothafuck’n yesterday, I’m sitting my dumb ass over here tryna plan another funeral and guess what, nigga? I could’ve been preplanning the grand opening for my fashion show that neva happened, guess why?”
She read him his full rights for five minutes. He just sat there and listened. After all, it was his baby sister, plus he knew he was in the wrong. More importantly, he’d had a bitch of a time healing from the first gunshots. He wasn’t trying to get shot again, not by his sister.
‘L’ was trying to maintain a straight face, but the cookies were kicking in and lil sis was going H.A.M. He bust out laughing so hard French Tip could hear him. That only pissed her off more, so she hung up. ‘L’ didn’t stop laughing until Clark reached for his Desert Eagle and drew down.
His laughing stopped in mid “ha” at the sight of the eagle. Noticing that Clark wasn’t looking at him but behind him “L” reached inside his jacket and came out with his Glock 50 wit the extended dick hanging from it. He might have acted like a square when it came to his day job, but “L” been bout da life since his days at Paly High.
It was far from summer, but one couldn’t tell from how bright the sun was blazing. The two of them were standing in the streets, guns ready, it was like a scene from Bad Boyz II as the trucks came rolling down the street.
There were three Denali HD Super Pickups, two Chevy Durmax Diesels, One super heavy-duty Dodge pickup and two Hummers. One H2 and one H3. Every truck was black with tinted windows, big ass chrome tires and from their sound, Clark could tell that they were supped up. The two Hummers were tricked out with candy paint, rims, the whole nine yards. The shit was crazy.
“Man, you know dese, niggaz?” ‘L’ asked while cocking his Glock, putting one in the head.
“Naaw, nigga, but I hope brah hurry up! I ain’t got enough bullets for all of these mufuckas.” He responded while following ‘L’s lead and putting one in the head.
The H3 was a candy caramel with deep dish peanut butter tan 32-inch rims. The passenger door to it opened.
“Come on, dad! You niggaz standing there all terminator’d the fuck out in the middle of the streets like it ain’t white folks in P.A. now or something.” Tut called out with a big ass smile on his face. He was standing up on the floor runners. His dreadlocks hung down to his shoulders now. He looked like a smaller version of ‘L.’
“My nigga, you almost got lit up out here driving down dis mothafucka like a bunch of Haitians” ‘L’ joked as he re-tucked his banger.
Tut climbed down from the H3. ‘L’ couldn’t help but wonder why lil niggaz always got big ass vehicles.
“Now, look-a-here, shawty.” None of the three saw the passenger door on the candy purple H2 with matching rims open up. “Me and the fellas ain’t drive all the way out to Cali to roast in da sun, shawty.” Some light skinned, T.I. looking mothafucka was standing up on the floor runner.
“Aww, dad, that’s my crazy ass cousin, Man-Man. From the way you was sounding I figured I’d bring some niggaz with me from the ‘A’, dad.” Tut answered. “Plus, I got a lil gift for, blood.” He nodded his head at ‘L’.
They made their way towards the back of one of the HD Denali’s. Man-Man was already in the back of the truck bed by the time they reached the truck.
Clark wanted to know what the gift was as much as ‘L’ did. Tut had sent a text to him saying to have ‘L’ with him but he’d neva explained why.
The truck bed was customized with an air tight compartment built in under the truck bed. The compartment was built large enough to hold a thousand kilos. After making sure the correct buttons were pushed in to unlock the hidden compartment, Man-Man lifted the door.
“God damn, Shawty!” Shaking his head and stepping back he looked at Tut. “We got us a problem, Shawty.”
“What’s up, Man Man?” Tut could tell by the look on Man-Man’s face that it was serious.
A breeze picked up and carried a foul odor to them. Tut already knew the answer.
“Shawty dead!” Man Man told him flat out.
“What you mean dead? How’d he die?”
“Wait, hold up, nigga, who dead?” Clark was looking back and forth from Tut to Man Man.
“That Nigga (Tut said while pointing his finger at the body). I told you I was bringing a gift.”
It was the bitch ass nigga who’d called the police and pressed charges on ‘L’ after getting his ass kicked at Club Carsjanae’s. He was hiding out at his grandma’s house in Atlanta until it was time to testify on a real nigga! Tut had different plans.
“You niggaz rode all the way back from the ATL wit that mothafucka in that box?” Clark couldn’t believe this shit. “Did it ever occur to you niggaz to check on him?”
“What da fuck for, there’s ‘nough wind blowing fo da nigga to breathe.” Man Man was wondering if this nigga was joking or crazy.
“Apparently not, nigga.” Clark stated flatly. Then he turned to ‘L’, “well looks like you can pull yo time waiver now and do a speedy trial. Charges will be dropped by the end of the month.”
That was as far as the good news was going to go because a police car was pulling up from the other end of the street.
When the car finally came to a stop, a little, fat, short, nigga got out. So, did every other nigga that was sitting in the trucks!
“And the grave shall spit up it’s dead! Oh! Shit! It must be the end of the world!” The fat little nigga shouted.
“Where?”
“Fuck you want, Norris?” Clark asked the cop.
“You know faking your own death is illegal?”
“You know I can show how easy it is to do.” He shot back at him.
Norris might have been a lot of
things, stupid wasn’t one.
“Come one now, Clark! You know I’m just playing.” He gave a fake laugh, trying to cover his fear.
Man-Man didn’t know how they got down in Cali, but he was ready to show ’em just how they did it in the ‘A’! His strap was out and ready to start talking. Norris played like he didn’t see the strap hangin’ in Man Man’s hand, but his sudden change in behavior said otherwise.
“Y…you guys gotta get these trucks outta the streets” Norris was reassessing the situation as he was speaking. He didn’t like his assessment.
“Yes, Sir! We not tryna get killed, sir. Just reminding them that Black Lives Matter, sir.” Tut did his best slave imitation.
“Get the damn trucks out of the street.” Norris rushed his little ass back to his car and reversed all the way down the street.
He said fuck the speed limit or any kids who may have been around, considering it was a residential area. Today he must’ve been feeling his fast and the furious.
Clark turned to look at Man Man, “Nigga you’s a crazy mothafucka. We gotta be family.”
He embraced Man Man like he was a long-lost cousin, and in a way, he was.
PART ll
A B C G
Any Body Can Get-it!
Chapter X
Sunnyvale
11:15 p.m.
He watched her head as it bobbed up and down. The sight of her sucking his dick like Super Head herself should’ve held his attention, but it didn’t. The only thing he could think of was a nigga trynna tell him how to run his city. Mothafuckin' clowns had him fucked up. He had put up with all that wannabe Mafia shit on the strength of his little brother. That was his thang. But Clarkola was a street nigga! A mothafuckin' E.P.A. nigga!
The magic of Spiritual’s mouth went unnoticed along with the slurping sounds she was making as he reached for his phone. On any other day, the way she twisted her head and circled her tongue around his helmet just before devouring him, would’ve had him curling his toes and grabbing her hair just to hold on. Tonight, it didn’t even phase him.
