Hood Misfits, Volume 1

by Brick

  The thing about Big Jake was, homie was like twenty-one and should have been in the NFL but got shot right before his big tryouts. Any other nigga would be hating life, but not Big Jake. He took that shit and used it to get him where he was now.

  Homie had me laughing and rolling when he told me how Bossman sounded when he saw all those niggas on the ground cut up, grabbing their faces and shit. Said nigga sounded like a cat hitting scalding water. Yo, I died laughing right then and there. He said niggas were heated like bitches, crying and shit over gashes, at the way li’l shawty busted their faces.

  The scar under my eye twitched, reminding me that li’l shawty was something like a jaguar. My mom’s words came back to me, and I had to respect that.

  We shit-talked for a bit, and I let him know that li’l shawty was crazy, seemed to be a lot like her moms.

  I remembered Shanna. She was nice to me when I came into the house. Used to make these bomb reverse chocolate chip cookies—caramel-based with chocolate chips in it. I didn’t know how she did that shit, but it was fiyah. She would also bring me some Trinidadian and Jamaican food to the house and make sure I got a big plate, saying I needed to get some muscles and shit, and learn about my people.

  Yeah, she was a boss bitch, but when no one was really checking for her, she always took care of me. She said, since I ain’t have no momma, she’d be that ’cuz I was so young and cute to her. I ain’t ever tell no one that, but Big Jake knew ’cuz she treated him the same way. We was Shanna’s house sons, and she took care of us good.

  That was why I was eager to go to her house that day. Shit fucked with my mental that she was in the mix like that. Ain’t wanna see her go like that, on some real shit, but it was whatever. People do what they gotta. I just got no love for them once loyalty is broken.

  The slamming of my car door had me turning off my iPod as I listened to The Art of War by Sun Tzu.

  “A’ight, li’l nigga,” Dough Boy said to me. “Take us to the LKs. That’s the next drop.”

  Nigga quickly pulled out a blunt that smelled as if it had lived in a piece of dead ass that baked in the ATL heat for four months and two days. Shit pissed me off. Disrespectful muthafucka right there. Especially when he spilled his Four Loko on my seats.

  See, I always took care of my shit. The day I got enough paper from Dame to get me a ride, I got me one and made sure to take care of that shit and only use it for drops. The moment this punk-ass nigga got in my ride was the moment I realized how he thought about me. I was gonna fuck him up over the disrespect he was throwing at me.

  We rolled through Dame’s territory, pausing to check on some drops, and hit up the niggas that were our eyes in the street. We turned out of the west side of the Trap, so we could hit that highway.

  Dough Boy rolled down his window and hollered at me to slow down the ride. “Ey yo. little nigga, you see that?” he literally screamed. “You see all one, two, three, four of those jiggly asses? Damn, son, slow this shit down.”

  Now what did I say about niggas making pussy priority before money? Fuck niggas.

  I sat there listening as he tried to spit some lame-ass game, asking one of the shawties, “’S up, mama? Where you from?”

  Some kinda cute mixed ghetto-booty chick rolled her eyes as her other cute girls laughed, iggin’ that coon-ass nigga.

  “Yo, you know you hear a nigga. I said, What it is, yo? So wassup? Can a nigga just beat dem guts?”

  Right there I almost slammed the brakes on my ride. Was that nigga for real? Did he really just quote some trap music? Fuck outta here.

  I turned to look at the back of this nigga’s fitted cap. This motherfucka was leaning out of the window of my Escalade, slamming his hands on the side of the door to get attention. I leaned forward to grab his whack ass, but the sound of the chicks going off on him then pausing to smile, lean down to look past him and giggle, made him sit back and glare at me.

  “Oh my God! Girl, is that Trigga?”

  “When this fine nigga get a ride like this?”

  “Heyyyyyy, Trigga!!”

  I nodded at each dime.

  I almost laughed my ass off when Dough Boy glared at me and growled, “Fuck them bitches! We ain’t got time for some weak-ass pussy. Let’s go, li’l nigga.”

  Rolling out of Zone 1 was my main priority, but busting this nigga’s ego made this trip even better.

  It took nothing to get to the Kings’ location. I was ready for Dough Boy’s lame ass to get out my ride, so I quickly parked and brushed out my ride.

  “Ey, li’l nigga, you still pissed about me pissing in that bottle in your ride and spilling it? I said my bad.” He laughed then went to the door where I stood.

  “Fuck you, nigga! You did that shit to be funny. I shoulda made your lame ass drink that shit,” I purposely mumbled, keeping my hoodie low while I looked down at my feet. I knew that would irritate him, so I ignored him as he got in my face.

  “What you say, li’l dumb nigga? You don’t talk much, do you? Fuck is wrong with you? Like you on some special-ed shit.” He laughed. “Only good for being a goon, huh? ’Cuz I’m not getting why Dame brought you in anyway. Any nigga can shoot.” He threw his blunt on the ground before banging on the door with his fist.

  I really was about hating this nigga right here.

  See, every hood nigga thought he was invincible, me included, but unlike them, I didn’t believe it. This nigga right here was going to get his real soon, and it might be by me.

  Iggin’ that coon-face nigga, I peeped the same twin machete-looking cats as they stood in the middle of two oak-carved Spanish doors. Each one looked us over, and we held our arms out to be searched before being let in.

  Inside the place was pretty dope. The head of the LKs lived decked-out in a mansion in Sandy Springs, which was why we were using my ride. I didn’t have a hood-nigga car. Had me a simple all-black Escalade with tinted window and normal rims, so I could blend in wherever I went in the A and not be trailed by five-O.

  All around us was some regal rich-nigga shit. Shit that said, “I’m new to this money game, so I had to have everything and all.” I laughed to myself, looking around, expecting to see some Scarface shit with the motto “The world is mine” etched in glass somewhere, but I didn’t.

  What I did see was a set of pretty broads from all backgrounds walking down the grand staircase. Each one had a dress on so tight, I could see their nipples poking out for show. Their dresses were so short, at the angle I was, all I saw were pretty slits. Some had those smiling slits—you know, the type that said come suck and lick me—just poking out.

  Damn! Those broads were bad bitches, each and everyone one of them. Hair looked real, so I could tell he wasn’t down with some fake-ass weave. Each broad’s breasts jiggled when they moved, right along with their asses, so I knew that shit was real too.

  “Amigos, come follow my dolls, and we’ll discuss some things.” Armando, the head of the LKs, walked down the stairs, stopping in the middle of his broads, which he named dolls.

  Today, he was wearing a black Italian suit with a teal button-down. I could tell that nigga was strapped up, by the way his jacket moved. Following his broads—although each one had only a drop of clothes and was almost bare-ass naked—as my eyes watched the plentiful asses in front of me, I could tell they also had Glocks strapped in smart ways on their bodies.

  I respected that a lot. Get your tricks familiar with a Glock and no nigga could ever tell if your goons were niggas or bitches. Bossman Dame needed to get on that, but his pride was too fucked up because he knew his broads would smoke his ass the moment they got a Glock in their hands. If I had some bad bitches, they’d be like Armando’s.

  Each exit in the place was burned in my mind as we walked through the mansion. Paintings covered the walls, all better than that half-dog, half-bike painting Dame had on his wall. The shit was better, but I knew the leader was about his rich tip. Which, to me, meant he still wasn’t shit. Hiding behind money just to l
ook good.

  I listened and then sat down in the middle of a sexy chocolate broad, who had her hair up in a ponytail that sat on the top of her head, and a caramel-brown chick, her hair down with bangs that cut close to covering her eyes. These two were some sexy-ass broads, who I wouldn’t mind getting my dick wet with.

  When the broad with the ponytail sat on my lap, I watched as her teal dress slid up to show me her thick thighs. My dick got hard at the feel of her cushion on top of me. Yeah, Armando was trying to distract me with pussy, and it was kind of working, but not totally. I was very much paying attention to everything and memorizing everyone and everything in the room with us as Dough Boy spoke with him.

  Something was going down that wasn’t feeling right with me. I smirked when the caramel drop began kissing on the side of my neck. Yeah, she was in a white minidress, her thighs, ass, and creamy titties asking to be kissed on.

  Armando and Dough Boy seemed to be having some private conversation of the minds. Dough Boy brought out a stash of ducats and handed it to him. Told him that Dame had his back.

  But if you weren’t used to watching for small shit, like I was, you wouldn’t have seen Armando slipping Dough Boy additional money.

  Both niggas turned my way.

  Armando glanced at me then smiled. “You like my dolls, amigo? Remember what we spoke on? Any time, you are welcome. I’ve been watching you in the streets, my man, and your word is bond. Anyway, sit back, enjoy yourselves, and tell Dame we’ll speak again later, to get this problem fixed. We appreciate the drop, Trigga, we really do. Adiós, I have other important manners to take care of. Mamacitas, take care of them.”

  Sliding both hands on the thighs of the two broads all on me, I gave him a wide grin, not saying a thing, all the while my mind on some other shit.

  Dame’s house was falling down all around him. His shit was beyond weak now, and too many niggas were turning on him. Nigga’s law was slowly washing away in the streets. This meant that any of us that was his hands in the street was going to catching some shit too.

  “Get off that slow-ass nigga. He can’t handle no bitches like you two. You two should be over here. All of you should.” Dough Boy smirked, rubbing his hands together.

  I only laughed when the two ignored him and slid down my body to let me out. I knew they heard about me because one whispered so in my ear. They wanted to see if my dick was true to the game. I wasn’t going to tell them now. Fuck I look like? So I let them see.

  Dough Boy narrowed his eyes at me and walked off, pulling a couple of broads with him. There was going to be some problems if Dough Boy disrespected any of Armando’s dolls like he loved to do to Dame’s broads.

  I swear I caught the nigga one day getting his dick sucked by some nigga on the street. It wasn’t shit to me. If he liked to do that, then do that, but don’t get pissed at me because your lame ass is gay. He still was a lame-ass nigga, and I planned on letting him know just that real soon.

  Right now, my dick was being swallowed as I pushed the chocolate dime down on her back. Spreading her legs wide, I tilted my head to the side just to see if she had a pussy that smiled, and sure enough, that tongue was poking out at me asking me to suck and lick it, which I did. Her cream tasted like Henny and sugar. Damn, she was tasty! I wasn’t down with drinking personally, but I had tasted some before, and right now, this dime had me thirsty.

  The way she worked her hips against my mouth had my dick staying hard as the pretty caramel drop stayed sucking me off.

  Caramel momma moaned, licking my dick on the side, playing with my nuts, like she was in heaven. She squeezed my tip in a way that had me bucking. Never had some shit done like this one was doing me. When she parted her pretty thighs, pulling up her skirt, I moved my mouth off my Chocolate Kisses slit and turned my head to look at the bare, golden pussy in front of me. This dime was glistening. And I liked that she had a condom in her hand rolling in on my sensitive dick while sliding me inside her.

  My mouth dropped open in a “Whoa!” the moment she swallowed me deep. Her pussy was still tight, and the way she gripped my locks let me know she was digging the way I filled her up. I grunted and dug my hips upward, shifting some, to go back to sucking off the chocolate pussy that was tugging on me to make her come again.

  Later, I was definitely thanking Armando for his gifts. The sound of me slapping the Jell-O-soft ass on top of me had both broads giggling.

  Damn! A simple nigga would be lost in all this glory, but trust, I wasn’t.

  Though everything was damn good, I still was checking Dough Boy. He had pushed his broads in a corner and was fuckin’ them off. Every time they tried to turn to ride him, he flipped them and rimmed they ass. Some made it work for them by bouncing that shit back and letting it slap against his thighs. The others, you could tell, were not into that type of fuckin’ by how rigid they got. Dough Boy was a fucked-up nigga.

  An hour later, we both ended up back at Dame’s. I was happy to get that nigga outta my ride as I drove off.

  I headed out of the hood to switch my ride off with a low-riding caddy I had fixed up that was in the garage my pop’s used to own, which fell to me. I only trusted Big Jake to be there. He lived in the loft and wanted to open a car shop there, which I was down for. You always had to have a plan B in the game. I learned that from some of the OGs in the street, and ours would be that shop which we’d run under different names.

  Back at Dame’s, I walked into the mansion fresh from my shower. I rubbed my jaw and smiled as some of his broads giggled and flirted with me. They said they liked that I was growing a beard. I had just gotten lined up, so it was real nice.

  I smacked plenty of asses, my way of saying thank you, while they commented on my dark baggy jeans, grey hoodie shirt, and the black jacket I sported over it.

  My locks spilled around my face, and one of the chicks stopped me to quickly pull it back and braid it. I knew immediately that it was Gina. I saw in one hand that she had a plastic bag with Band-Aid, and a first-aid kit.

  Must be for li’l shawty. The fact that I saw gauzes too made my jaw clench. Dame must have really went in on her. “Thank you, baby,” I muttered low.

  See, she was about one of the only few chicks I really said anything to. The rest, I grinned and let them feel like I was checking for them.

  Gina gave a childlike giggle and walked away to the right of me, heading down the hallway. I chuckled when her walk became sexier, and she made her plump ass switch when Big Jake stepped into view.

  I knew since day one of Gina being brought here that she was feeling Big Jake. He had been nice to her, so nice, that Dame didn’t even know that he popped her cherry just so she could have something special before he ruined her.

  Yeah, sometimes shit had to go that way just to protect some dimes. Too many of our women were being lost in the game to muthafuckas like Dame and Armando. Made to go crazy and lose their thrones, forgetting that they were queens. My mom and pops used to school me on that all of the time, and now I was living it every day. Just how shit went.

  I headed up to Dame’s. I knocked on the door and waited. Nigga liked to be extra a lot of the time and have us waiting for up to twenty minutes.

  Luckily for me, Dough Boy was rocking out of the room with a grin on his face, and Sasha was following him. Bitch looked like she had swallowed some sour dick.

  I inwardly laughed. That meant Dame had gifted her to Dough Boy and she was ’bout to get rimmed in.

  “Damn, Trigga! Fuck you looking at dee-a-dee ass?” Dough Boy bucked at me then stood back laughing and grabbing my hand to give me dap. “Just playing, little nigga. Took you long enough. Might want to holla at the Boss quickly. He got shit to do. One.”

  Sasha’s rusty laughter flowed over Dough Boy’s shoulder.

  I cut my eyes at both of them and sucked my teeth.

  Dough Boy yanked hard on Sasha’s hand, making her stumble while she turned to follow him. “Come on,” he barked, and she flipped her dried blon
de husked weave over her shoulder and tried to switch in a pair of plastic clear stripper shoes.

  Ho was only twenty-five, but the bitch looked sixty. Fuckin’ shame.

  I knocked on the door again and heard Dame yell to me, “Yeah.”

  After pushing in, I closed the door and moved to stand in front of Dame’s desk. He sat bowed forward rubbing his temples. Paper, money in envelopes, blunts, dust, and other shit was spread out everywhere. I checked that his hazel eyes were dark and bloodshot. His Caesar cut was looking raggedy, and he sat wearing jeans with a beater, something he typically didn’t do much of. Nigga looked like his kingdom was falling. Guess he finally was waking up.

  “What do you want, Trigga?” he asked, without looking up at me. “You got some more intel for me?”

  I had a lot on my mind, and everything that was going down now had me stepping to the big boss. “Yeah, look. I think it’s time you start cleaning house. Your kingdom is falling, Bossman. Everyone in the street is talking shit about you and yours, and we all starting to get disrespected.”

  Pausing, I balled my fists at my side, making sure to stay on guard just in case this nigga tried to pop me.

  Dame slid back in his chair, locking eyes on me. His large hand laid on top of the gun that was in front of him then he moved it to pull out a piece of paper and threw it at me.

  “You think I’m stupid? I got eyes everywhere, nigga. I know and I trust your word since day one of raising you. So what else new you got to tell me?”

  Licking my lips, I relaxed enough to cross my arms over my chest. It was true. Since coming into his house, I had started from the bottom and got to where I was now by being schooled by him. So, the fact that he trusted me showed that he knew my loyalty was bond.

  “The LKs keep trying to get at me,” I told him. “And I think they already got your nigga. You know me, I mean no disrespect, but fuck it! I’m about loyalty, so that shit that’s going on ain’t cool, because it’s affecting your house and those still loyal to you, man. I know you see it. Some of these new niggas you got are lame as fuck and not strong to hold down this camp. You need to clean house.”