by Corey Bryant
I started scheming on how to end this shit and quickly. “My nigga,” I said as I stood and put on my coat. “Y’all stand down and lay low for a minute. “
“Lay low?” Said Brainhead as he also stood. “Lay low for what?!” “Man, Antonio, fuck that nigga! We just gon lay down?! Sheeit! Man, I say we…”
“Be cool my nigga!” I said interrupting Brainhead, just before walking out of the office. “I got dis!” I said reassuring my lil partner with a grin on my face.
He hesitated a lil before saying “Aight my nigga… If you say so! But only for a minute’’ and with that, we exited the building both clutching our hammers on the low as we headed to our cars.
Later that night, I was periodically riding by Magic City and cold trailing Faygo. I had already got the low down on this dude from the stripper broad Candy. The same one who hipped me to Faygo’s plot on Brainhead. She even told me how often he frequented the clubs. She was one of them lil bad hoez from the N.O. wit that killa pussy! The ones like Master P used to talk about. The kind that’ll set you up and get you killed! Since I was old school, I didn’t trust her ass cause if she’ll do it to one nigga, she’ll do it to you! My philosophy! So, I didn’t get her to clock the nigga moves inside of the club. I had one of my sye-pie-say Haitian niggaz from North Miami texting me from the inside. Also, my Zoe’s partner lil cousin who just moved to the A from Opa-Locka North Miami was stripping so she was on the nigga Faygo heavy!!
Rae- Sremurd’s song featuring Nick Minaj and Young Thug. “Throw some more” was on and my lil Haitian partner’s cousin was giving the nigga Faygo a hell of a lap dance. “Damn Shawty, you got me bout to nut in my pants!” Said Faygo.
“Oh, yea?!” Said the fine Haitian stripper. “Just think what me can do in de bed!” Then, she suddenly spun from the position in his lap to a reverse cowgirl position. “You want to hit it like this?” She asked as she placed her hands on his knees and started grinding hard and slow on his bulging dick.
“Ah yeah! Ah, hell yeah!” Said Faygo. “What dat ticket on dat pussy shawty?”
“Nut-ting! You got mi pussy throbbing! I’ll give it to you for free!” Said the stripper.
“Well let’s go! Now!” Said Faygo. He was horny as hell! He was so caught up that he didn’t recognize the lil Haitian broad dropping the molly in the drink.
“Slow down daddy, me have to get permission to leave early.”
“Fuck dat!” Said Faygo, “What it’s going to cost for you to leave?!” “Who I need to talk to?!”
“Wait… let me go and holla at de’ manager!” Said the stripper. She grind on Faygo a couple of deep hard times and quickly got up and sashayed off in the direction of the manager’s office.
Leaving Faygo’s dick so hard that he almost had the blue balls. “Shit!” Said Faygo as he sat there grabbing his dick on the verge of masturbating, 3 minutes later she came back and leaned into his ear and said, “He’ll let me leave for two hunnid dollars!” Faygo quickly gave her two hundred dollars bills and she quickly walked off.
Actually, the manager told her for a hundred dollars she can leave, but what the hell, she’ll make an extra $100 dollars to go along with the $1,000 dollars she was going to make just to trick this nigga off somewhere for her cousins. She didn’t know I was involved. When she came back to Faygo he was sweating like hell and grabbing his dick at the sight of her.
“Daddy, what kind of car are you in?” Asked the stripper.
“A light blue corvette.” Said Faygo. “Go ahead and pull around the side exit door and I’ll meet you there.” “Said the stripper”. Without questions, Faygo immediately headed for the door. He came with 5 of his partners/goons but since he was thinking with the head in his pants. He forgot all about the goons and most importantly the drama he’s in and who and what kind of dudes he’s really into it with… killaz!!
(Here he comes!) Texted my partner from inside of the club. I had just pulled in the parking lot in a black Taurus a minute before the text. I texted back (Bet!) As I was backing into a parking spot Faygo came out of the club walking kind of fast over to his Vette while grabbing his dick! A minute later, out comes the stripper fully clothed sashaying over to Faygo’s Vette as he pulls up to get her. As they pulled off, I was right behind them careful not to trail them too close.
I sent her a text for her to get him to pull over at the next gas station. Tell him she had to pee real bad. She didn’t know who I was, so I told her I was with her cousin. That’s all it took.
“Baby hurry up! I’m bout to bust off!” Said Faygo with his exposed dick in his hand. The stripper had been giving him some head as they rode.
“Okay baby, it won’t take me long!” Said the stripper as she ran to the bathroom. I pulled around the gas station to dodge any possible cameras and got out with my ski mask and silencer on my 9mm. I quickly made it around to Faygo’s Vette from the front. Surprising the shit out of him because he was so horny he was sitting in the car masturbating and looking towards the bathroom.
“Shit!!” Said Faygo, as he quickly looked up at me. Eyes bucking open like one of the black actors in those movies portrayed as one of them frightened Jigaboo-negroes! SPIFFT SPIFFT SPIFFT Sounded the .9 mm as I let off 3 quick shots into Faygo’s face. I quickly picked up the shell casings and then I ran around to the driver’s side of the car to finish him off. SPIFFT SPIFFT SPIFFT Spitted the strap as I let off 3 more shots in his already splattered head. Just as I was letting off the last shot that’s when the Haitian stripper was exiting the bathroom “Aaiia!” Screamed the stripper as soon as she stepped out of the bathroom. At that very moment I let off 4 quick shots above her head putting holes in the door she was just exiting causing her to dive back into the bathroom. I ran to the back of the store, jumped in the Taurus, and smoothly pulled off.
Chapter 10
(Video Shoot & Beyond)
“Get my money up quick nigga, real shit! Is all I know!” Rapped Brainhead as he ended his verse before his hook started. “All I know is dat real shit, dat real nigga shit!” Brainhead was lip-synching his verses at the video shoot right along with the song like he was a pro!
Ever since this new single been out it’s been a street banger earning my independent label a distribution deal. Jeezy, Gotti, and Money Bagg Yo were on the remix and that’s what we decided the video would be. With Faygo out of the equation, we didn’t have any current known static/ beef to hinder the takeoff of R.I.C.O Entertainment. If I hadn’t nipped that problem in the bud. He would’ve drawn my main flagship artist into some more hands-on street shit than he’s already in. Which could’ve escalated into him catching a murder case by killing Faygo himself in public or worse… He could’ve got killed! The news of Faygo’s death circulated all around ATL as another unsolved murder!
True enough, the streets knew about which click may be responsible for his murder, but the law didn’t have enough evidence to arrest and convict anyone yet! Members of his click went into hiding and his whole organization was dismantled! Nobody in his crew was willing to step up and try and get some get back… except his plug Big Lo, who in turn is one of my cousin Alvin’s old plug and friend. Little did I know that Faygo was Big Lo’s nephew on the low and that Big Lo had revenge in his heart!
Out in Stone Mountain, Georgia, in a ducked-off mansion. Big Lo from New York was sitting on his leather sofa looking at the TV. He clicked on YouTube, under new releases and that’s when he stumbled upon Brainhead’s new video.
“Young bitch ass nigga!” Said Big Lo as he looked at the TV through bloodshot eyes. Big Lo had been very upset and disturbed about the death of his nephew Faygo. He tried hard to explain to his sister, Faygo’s mother about what happened. However, his explanation was landing on deaf ears. His sister who still lived in New York had sent Faygo to Atlanta 15 years prior. When he was 15 to keep him safe, out of trouble, and to stop him from falling victim to the streets. Big Lo felt as if he failed to keep his promise to his sister because he let his nephew get swa
llowed up by the streets. Big Lo grabbed the gallon of Hennessy off the table and took a big gulp out of it. He had been on a drinking binge ever since Faygo’s death and funeral. He was plotting revenge but, first, he had to get down to the bottom of the drama and who’s responsible. Was the hit done by a stranger or was it a result of an ongoing beef he had with the rapper Brainhead? Whose video he’s now watching.
“Who pulled the fucking trigger!?” said Big lo as he watched Brainhead’s video. He knew that if he got at Brainhead or if anything happened to him that there would be repercussions. He knew Brainhead was down with “Antonio Deangelo”, his friend Alvin’s cousin. He knew if he touched anybody in the R.I.C.O organization it would mean war! He would rather french kiss a rattlesnake than step on those toes.
“Damn! I got to find a way to get at these niggaz!” said Big Lo as he watched the music video. He was staring intently at the short, light-skinned, and stocky fellow who had his arm around the rapper Brainhead’s neck. He was waving a spread of money side to side. smiling with some fly-ass Cartier glasses on.
“Yeah nigga...smile now...cry later!” said Big lo as he picked up his phone and speed-dialed New York.
Chapter 11
A Year Later
It had been a very prosperous 3 yrs. of freedom. It seemed like all the plans I had in my head as I was visualizing and fantasizing while I was in the pen were coming to pass! Crystalizing right before my eyes. I was head of a self-made corporation/entity which owned businesses and I was a black entrepreneur! Independent, black-owned business that was bout it, bout it like Master P back in the days. I was the owner, CEO, and general manager of Deangelo Enterprises. The legal side was on some Jerry Jones Shit! Under the R.I.C.O enterprise umbrella were a couple of businesses I had running so far such as R.I.C.O Entertainment, my record label, my trucking & Logistics company, Deangelo Transportation & warehousing, and Deangelo Real estate investing. I was into buying and flipping houses, Land development, and building subdivisions.
My partners Chee-Chee and Chris were into computer networking, fiber optics installation, and computer programming. They run that so I opened a sports agency managing athletes and a sports bar. This was just the beginning. I had taken an 8-week course from a sports management school. After finishing I interned at a sports agency just to learn the business for about 9 months.
Instead of continuing to work for the agency, I opened my own with 2 more upcoming agents that were fresh out of college. Shit was definitely popping now so I opened a strip club. All my legal businesses are doing big numbers or about to do big numbers! Brainhead was on his second album already after the first one went triple platinum. A rap group plus an R&B thug nigga or should I say a thug nigga that can sing and write some R&B hits! Both had hot singles out and the rap group was called ATL Cartel Life. 3 hard young niggaz. One was from the Bluff, 4th ward, and Edgewood. Their singles are doing big numbers and I’m a legal multimillionaire now! I was an 8 figure nigga not a regular nigga or just a street nigga! An ex-con who started from the bottom with nothing but balls and my word! Sitting in the office of my new sports bar overseeing my accountants and counting the collection of my slick pick tickets. It was football season so gambling on games in some form or fashion was hot! College games and the NFL was poppin!
“200k so far!” said Jamey as he took off his glasses and lit a cigarette. “Still have those 20 piles to count!”
“That’s what’s up!” I said as I lit a mini cigarillo blunt of some rapper weed.
“Things are going smooth so far.” said Jamey as he looked over his books on a laptop.”
“You mean we’ve been getting by or getting away?”
“Getting away?” asked Jamey as if he was confused.
Yea getting away! That’s what we used to say in the joint about the ticket man when too many people have not hit him. Most of the time no one! I was giving Jamey a little prison lingo. “Oh...I understand where you’re coming from Antonio!” said Jamey as he quickly caught on. After taking our smoke break we quickly got back to counting the take. We had collected all of the tickets and were checking to see if anybody hit or were there any round-robin payments. For example, if a person played a five pick-ticket and if four of his teams covered the point spread and he played a $10 ticket or better. We gave them a refund. Good business is our motto in this organization. Niggaz already have enemies for no reason at all. But hate caused by you doing yo thang. Would be the only fuel to the fire to ignite any ill feelings they have towards you and that comes from within. I had bankers there also from my numbers racket. Yeah, on some old-school shit running numbers and a couple of number spots! We just modernized it and we broke it down like this. The policy runner/numbers runner was the lowest level in the numbers racket, and they took calls, texts and dashed around from apartments to houses taking bets. A collector in a particular area got two broads and 1 dude.
Next, the pickup man brought the “work/betting” slips from various collectors to a “controller”. I had 3 collectors. 2 black dudes and 1 white girl. One controller that was my partner from the valley named Jaheim. I met him in the penal system, and he moved to Atlanta once he got out. He was part of the nation of Islam for a while but, he kind of slid back into the street life. Nothing too heavy though just a little weed and syrup. That purple drank. He had his own Barbershop /Beauty salon in a 2-story building on the east boulevard. The perfect cover-up for a controller because not only did he have a nice flow of traffic at the shop but upstairs he had a bakery. His main office was upstairs in the back of the bakery.
So, the few collectors that reported to him mixed right in with the normal traffic. Jaheim and two other controllers passed it on to a banker the “money man!” The spiral continues upwards to me! The Boss! Playing the numbers is basically a poor man’s game, but it is still big business based on the lottery. Like in the ’60s, ’70s, and ’80s! Hundreds of millions of dollars are milked annually out of ghetto areas by the underworld. Last but not least, “Drops”. Slang in the numbers game for a collections place for betting slips and money. I switched drop-spots periodically and usually at the last minute without warning! Ducking all the setups! The robbery set up, the police set up any setups! Because of the type of money that be at these spots. I have to stay on my pz and qz! The type of money niggaz will kill for! So, when I pick a spot a couple of shooters are already there in the shadows! Of course, I am strapped! The odds I was playing on some of the number slips was 600 to 1 so a lot of people played and that meant a lot of money was in the office of this sports bar with us now!
“Damn! that’s 1.5 mill.” I said after re-running money through two money machines for the second time. This was all gambling money! Some of my workers who are involved in the gambling part of my organization got paid day to day and nightly. Some we just paid once a week. After I broke off and paid all my people me and a couple of my shooters made it out the sports bar and to the vehicles. At times like this, a nigga has to move like the president! I got two shooters outside the door and two more sitting in the parking lot in a big black suburban. 2 more outside the back door and 2 passing by the bar in a big G.M.C. Sierra Denali. Everybody got Ak-47s long and short rifles. Me...I got that F and N pistol-rifle! Protection and death around my money! Blood money! Once I made it to the drophead Rolls-Royce, I jumped in and pulled off behind the G.M.C. Sierra was already riding up and down the street followed by the suburban. By me being in the real estate business now. I own property everywhere so nobody in this entourage/caravan knew where we’re heading but me. I grabbed one of my phones and called the driver of the Sierra which happens to be one of my cousins from the deck.
“I’m bout to get in the next lane and pass you so stay behind me until further notice.”
“Bet!” answered my cousin as I rode about 5 minutes until I reached the 3rd signal light. I called my cousin and the other shooters who were in the suburban following and told them to stand down. “
Yo I’m good, I’ll get at yall l
ater on.”
“Okay my nigga!” said my cousin Mario. They kept going as I turned right and drove another couple of minutes before reaching a gated community deep in Buckhead. To my stash house! Well, one of them. I didn’t really have to worry about shit happening out there. A lot of rich professional people lived on this end. My cousin from Dec, Mario was the head of my security detail so I didn’t have to worry about any of them trying to double back. At least not at the moment. Little did they know I had somebody on their trail! My phone rang as I pulled up to my crib.
”Wusup?” I said as I answered the phone.
“Erythang clear?” said my tail.
“Bru, let me ask you something,” said K.J. who happened to be a childhood friend. I pay very good just to be a tail. ”Bru, let me ask you something,” said K.J. who happened to be the tail.
“Wusup?!” I said
“Do you have anybody following me?! laughed K.J. because you are cautious and noid as hell!”
“You can never be too careful my friend,” I said jokingly. Okay, fuck with me later on! said K.J.
“Bet, I got you later on today. I got to get a lil sleep!”
“Aight..aye..nigga you got a hoe over there? You need to take the time out to get you some pussy nigga!” laughed K.J.
“You stay on the move all day and night nigga chasin that money!” I laughed it off with my partner.
“Later nigga!” I said, before hanging up. But he did have a point! I stay on the move handling business and I really did need to slow down and spend more time with my main squeeze! Matter of fact that’s what it’s going to be for the next couple of days. Bitches!
