I hung up on her stupid ass. I was hella mad I let her get me in my feelings and letting her see it. I don't think she really had plans on going out. She just wanted to fuck with me. I turned Young Dolph back up and got in stunt mode. Fuck Bitches!
I pulled up on 162nd and Burnside, pulling into the lot of the corner store and parked. It was a few young niggaz posted up in front and across the street selling weed and pillz. None of them had the hater look on their faces, but I still gripped the iron like my life depended on it.
I left the Muzik on full blast, car runnin' while I bounced out with my right hand jammed in my hoody. I didn't know nobody out there, but my car forced everybody to know who I was.
“Hi, O-dawg,” a female said from amongst a group of five of them.
“What's up with y'all?” I replied, not really knowing which one I was talking to. It didn't matter though 'cause they were all the same to me, groupies.
They smiled at me as I walked by, so I gave 'em a half smile back. Even that was difficult 'cause wasn't shit pretty or worth smiling at. It was triv throughout the whole city. I gave the “street nigga” head nod to the young thugz and made my way inside.
I copped some backwoods, orange juice and got up outta there the same way I came in. This time the youngins nodded at me as soon as they saw me. Now they know who I am, I thought arrogantly but returned it anyways. The groupies were still staring like they wanted to fuck me right there.
I left the car door open as I sat there, letting the music blast through the lot. I was in stunt mode and didn't give a fuck how nobody felt about it. I was doing the town a favor every time I showed my face or my jewelry, if you asked me.
I smiled to myself as I watched the group of broads finally get the heart to come approach the whip. Never fails. Just as I got ready to hop out and get my mac on, I spotted the play. Two niggaz with Mariners hats on their heads were speed walking across the street right in my direction. It was a good thing I stayed war ready at all times.
I always parked away from any building that I pulled up at no matter what! Plaid pantry, Burger King, Liquor store, it didn't matter. It was a boatload of niggaz that got killed just for parking their cars in the wrong direction. Making it where they couldn't see or escape from an ambush. Not me, though. I'ma tactician. Five star general.
I coulda drove off on them clowns before they even crossed the street since I spotted their plan from the jump. Hell, I coulda closed the door and just sat there bumping Dolph while they fucked my paint job up. But they came for a murder scene, so that's what they were gonna get. Plus the last thing I needed was niggaz thinking they could keep getting at me like shit was sweet over this way.
By the time they were halfway across the street, I got a real good look at their faces. I smirked. It was Face and CaPone coming to get some revenge for their dead homies and that snitch bitch. My heartbeat sped up as I gripped the .45 with rage. Take a deep breath. I know what I'm doing.
I saw everything in slow motion. The females finally seeing the Crips coming for me and looking scared for their lives. The Crips were picking up the pace with their hands, getting closer and closer to their waists. They came to kill somethin'. I could respect that. But even the brave get killed when it's real funk. I bounced out on some ready to die shit.
“Niggaz lookin' for me?” I yelled out, then did what I did best.
Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom!
I hit Face in the arm, taking them both by surprise. CaPone shook it off and got into beast mode, bustin' back at me.
Boca! Boca! Boca! Boca! Boom! Boom! Boom!
Boc! Boc! Boc! Boom! Boom! Boca! Boca!
I was runnin' sideways, getting my issue in, really tryna body somethin'. They split up while exchanging fire with a real nigga. Face had one arm hanging down by his leg while he put the other one to work. I could respect it.
“Fuck Slobs!” CaPone yelled out from behind a parked car.
“Come get this work!” I yelled back.
Boom! Boom! Boom! Boc! Boc! Boom! Boom!
Face's body hit the pavement, lips kissing the ground like they were getting married. I froze for a split second to see if he was gonna move. He did to my disappointment. I started walking up to finish 'em off like only a real killah would do. He was a dead man breathing, literally.
Boca! Boca! Boca!
CaPone rushed from behind his hiding place really tryna save his manz. The hot shit he was sending caught me off guard and had me backing up. But I was throwin' 'em back, wasn't no pussy in my veins.
Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom! Boca! Boca! Boca!
I got behind a car real quick to catch my composure and check the surroundings. That's when I heard the sirens. I didn’t know how long they had been blaring. I was too caught up in the situation. What I did know was that them crackerz sounded real close. I took off runnin' to the 'Rati while shooting behind me.
Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom! Boca! Boca!
I hopped in and peeled out, leaving everybody with a story to tell on social media. They fucked up. They shoulda killed me!
“Yo, O? You know everybody starting to count us out right?” Ruger asked from behind the computer. Everybody looked at him, then locked their eyes in on me. I personally didn't give a fuck and felt like they shouldn't either. We weren't in this shit for the opinions.
I smirked like always, then said, “Call me crazy, but I love them type of odds.”
I got off the couch as soon as the words left my mouth and walked into the booth. Wasn't nothing left to be said on that topic. We was gonna make everybody believers or get killed trying. We had no other options.
When me and Ruger made eye contact right before I closed the door, I noticed somethin' that wasn't there before, death. His eyes were pitch black just like mine. It wasn't a soul worth saving in the room. We'd sold 'em to the devil. I shook off the evil chill that ran through my bones and stepped to the mic to handle my business.
“Yo, just let the beat play out. I ain't doing no hook or none of that shit. I'ma just spit this shit raw,” I let Ruger know.
My words must of got my niggaz excited 'cause they all got up and walked to the window with their phones pointed at me. I threw up the Mob and then Crip Killah. Once I gave Ruger the head nod, he dropped the beat. I thought about all the snake shit Burnside and them were doing to really pump myself up. I wanted my shit to come out raw and passionate like when Tupac was slaying his enemies. The listeners needed to feel where I was coming from. Feel my pain.
“Fuck the Ghost Mob, sixties, pirus and anybody that's rydin' with 'em,” I said, while waiting for the drums to kick in.
“Kill suckaz, then put their dicks in their mouth, Real killaz, no time for silly shoot outs we just sittin' in they house. Burnside you barley breathing, you a walking dead man. Genocide yo’ whole click, we killin' niggaz like a klansman.
Got traitor in yo’ blood, shoulda killed you when they slumped yo’ cuz. Put you in the ground, then piss on yo’ tombstone just to clean the mud. Tell the streetz how you called my phone, cryin' couldn't pay the rent. Fucked off the flip, I gave you twenty thou and a half brick.
All the shit I did, now you wanna turn snake? Know too much, so I gotta kill you before you turn state. All them times I had to save you, now you acting hard. Was shakin' in yo’ boats when them gutta squads had shot up yo’ car.
Keep it real you, only shoot at niggaz that ain't shooting back. Joe snaked his manz over a bitch, what type of shit is that? So niggaz cut his dick off just to state a fact.
Now you cryin' in the house, wish you could bring that bitch back. But if you did, niggaz would like up to hit 'em with the mac. Got two more coffins for them Jersey pussies, we gon' send 'em back.
Them other drop outs ya got 'blood, they dying for free. And when you look in the mirror, I'm who you tryna be. Shoulda listened to twin when he begged to slump you niggaz. And far as the sixties, y'all get half a bar, fuck you niggaz.”
When I finished the last bar, all my niggaz went
crazy like usual. They was jumping up and down being hella extra for no reason. They was acting like they had never heard me drop a diss track before.
But it did feel good though, I ain't gon' lie. The whole gang had their phones pointed at themselves while they threw up gang signs and talked their shit. This was the type of shit my squad lived for. I was gon' go talk my shit on camera with them, then thought of a better idea. I stepped back up to the mic.
“I woke up this morning and asked God to please protect me from my friends 'cause I can handle my enemies. I'll never understand how a nigga can call you his friend one day, then stab you in the back the very next day.”
I had to stop and really think about how true that shit was. It was probably the realist shit I had ever said. Soon as my homies heard me start speaking again, they instantly turned the phones back around.
“So even though I'ma blow yo’ head off Burnside, it's gon' break my heart to do it. Even though you a traitor ass bitch, I can't stop my heart from having love for you. You the worse type of nigga though and I want the streetz to really know that. You snaked yo’ family and don't even care, don't got no regrets.
I used to call yo’ mama my mama, yo’ sister my sister. Now I gotta look them women in their eyes after I snatch yo’ soul from yo’ body. How many times my mama let you sleep on our couch when you had nowhere to go? Huh? How many times I put you on? You turned yo’ back on yo’ family, nigga?
And far as all the traitors that's following you around, we can't wait to catch y'all niggaz. Y'all must of forgot we know where you and yo’ family live at. Protect me from my friends, Lord.”
I walked out and got bear-hugged a dozen times before I made it to the couch. My goonz were charged up, but I felt empty inside for some reason. I think all that talking made my soul ache for what used to be. The shit was beyond crazy to me, I just couldn't understand. Fuck that, it's triv! I siked myself up to get up outta that soft ass mode I was slippin’ into. I knew it would only get me killed.
“Yo’, Bleed? Go get the gunz so we can go handle our business,” I said, feeling myself get back into goon mode.
He got up and left without saying a word. He'd been burning with anxiety to pull them gunz out and make the city feel our wrath. He took what happened earlier with me to the heart probably more than I did. He came back within seconds, dumping a duffle bag full of gunz on the table. Then went and got two AR-15s and laid 'em right next to the bag.
“We ain't fuckin' with no handguns tonight 'cause we got some shit we needa chop down.”
“What we gotta chop down?” Phatz asked with one of the ARs in his hands.
I pulled the Mac-10 from the bag, then cocked it back. “Everybody grab somethin' while I fill y'all in on the plan. Y'all gon' love this.” I smirked at the thought of the fear we were about to instill throughout the city.
An a hour later, we were sitting in a tinted out Astro Van parked right in front of Leo's Bar. It was packed in the parking lot like the usual, but that's exactly what we wanted for what I had planned. I popped the clip outta the Mac, checking the bullets outta habit, then slammed it back in. I turned to look at Bleed to tell 'em to double check his heat, but he was already staring at me with an impatient look written on his face.
“I find it real funny how niggaz can fear you one day, then try you the next. Soon as these cowards seen a lil' blood in the water, all of a sudden their sharks and shit.” I gritted my teeth.
He shrugged his shoulders. “So now we go hunt sharks.”
“Y'all know the drill. If we ain't out in fifteen, then y'all come in killin' shit.”
I jumped out the van without saying or hearing another word. Fuck all that, I was on a mission to get my respect or get killed for tryin'. I looked down at my hoody to see if the gun was poking out at all. It wasn't. I was rockin' the same fit from earlier, the one those brands tried to kill me in.
The only difference was I took my glasses off and popped my contacts in. I was in beast mode, wasn't nobody safe. Soon as me and Bleed walked in the bar, it was all eyes on us. It was a few bad bitches in there that couldn't take their eyes off of me, but we didn't come to get no pussy. We came for an understanding. The niggaz that were staring at me had looks of confusion and astonishment on their faces.
It was no secret that niggaz had tried to kill me at the corner store that day. It was all on Facebook what happened and even the news gave it some airtime. So seeing me hours later could only mean one thing to the coward hearted. I was trippin'.
“Can I get you guys a table?” a pretty dark skinned waitress asked us.
I could see it in her eyes, behind that fake ass smile that she knew we didn't want no fuckin' table. I knew she felt the tension. The pretty bitch wasn't that dumb.
“Naw, we don't want no fuckin' table. Take us to yo’ boss,” I told her ass.
She looked around like she wanted to run and hide. She didn't know what to do. She got saved when Leo's right hand man Tony got up from a table and walked up on us.
“What can I do for you, O-dawg?” the nigga had the audacity to ask.
I looked him up and down like he was more than just beneath me. He stuck his hands in his slacks while he waited for my response. Bitch ass nigga.
“I already told her to go get ya boss.”
“What you wanna talk to Leo about? If he's even here.”
The nigga was pissing me off. I thought about shooting that dumb ass ponytail off his small ass head for fuckin' with me.
“You’re wasting precious time, trust me.” I pulled my phone out to check the time.
“I saw his G-wagon in the lot, so cut the crap nigga. And whatever we got to speak about is between us. I don't need no answering machine,” I said, checking his ass.
The waitress looked back and forth between us, tryna decide what to do. She looked at Tony like, “you gon' let him talk to you like that”. I'm sure she was used to seeing him bully people and flex his weight around the bar every single night. But I'ma whole different type of monster and he knew that.
“Go see if Leo wants to be disturbed.” He came to his senses real quick.
Frontin' ass nigga, I thought while watching her disappear down the hallway. I looked around and noticed we were still the center of attention. But every time I made eye contact with somebody, they turned their head. Even the so-called tough guys in there. I'd slap the shit outta all them niggaz and they knew that. Fuck what they heard on Facebook. “You got some nerve showing up here like this,” Tony felt the need to speak.
He wasn't the type to tongue wrestle with the opposition, so I knew shit was getting ready to explode at any moment. Bleed didn't play that fuck shit and Tony was on some real fuck boy shit, tryna play us like we was some suckaz or somethin'.
Tony screwed his face up and was probably getting ready to say somethin' that was gonna get him killed, but the waitress and some big ass Shaq diesel nigga saved him.
“He said bring them back.” She gave me one last look of lust, then walked off.
Her panties is wet, I thought to myself and smirked as we followed them to the back. I quickly peeped how Tony got in front of us while Shaq walked real close behind us. Me and Bleed made eye contact and I knew we were on the same level.
I found the shit quite funny on the real 'cause if we wanted to start crushin' shit, wasn't no formation in the world gone stop us. Niggaz be killin' me! Shaq opened the office door, then held his hand out for us to stop like he apart of safety patrol or some shit.
“If you have guns on you, I'ma need to take them,” he said with a straight face.
“Well, come take them then, nigga,” I growled, leaving no doubt that I was sending a threat.
He gave me the “big nigga” stare, the one every nigga over 6'5” feel tall used to intimidate anybody that was shorter than them. I damn sho wasn't his height nor weight, but I had somethin' in my hoody that would turn him into an half-a-man, literally. And there was no way in hell I was handing it over.
; I wouldn't give a fuck if Minister Farrakhan himself guaranteed my safety. I planned on dyin' with this muthafucka in my hand and then being buried with it. I was just getting ready to let 'em know that when a voice came from the office, telling them to let us in. I stared him up and down as I walked by him like he wasn't shit. Pussy.
Leo stood behind his desk waiting on us, wearing a look of annoyance. Right from the jump, I knew I was gon' end up killin' his ass. I could tell exactly how he felt and what was going through his mind.
I took him all in. From his white jacket to his cream vest and linen pants. He was the epitome of what was wrong in Portland underworld. A bunch of old muthafuckaz with slick ponytails and linen pants thinking they still ran shit. They were stuck in the 80's listening to Marvin Gaye while tryna play gangsta and shit with their silly ass suits on.
Most of them bitch ass niggaz had money out the ass but were working with the police in order to keep it. I didn't see no other alternative to the shit. How the hell they been getting money for decades and ain't been to jail? Yeah, I'm not buying it.
“What can I do for y'all?” He stuck his hand out for me to shake. “And I hope you don't think we had anything to do with what happened earlier either.”
I shook his hand while staring through his soft ass soul. “Never even crossed my mind. I know y'all ain't even built like that. But I'm sure it would of benefit to you if I woulda died though.” I gave his ho’ ass my trademark smirk. The one I gave to niggaz that were dead and just didn't know it. He sat down tryna look offended.
“Have a seat.”
“Naw, we good. Yo’ big ass security guard is making me feel uncomfortable. Plus, I don't like people standing behind me. It makes my trigga finger itch,” I declined, then looked at Shaq to see how he felt about it.
“Psstt.” He sucked his teeth like a female would.
Bitch nigga.
“So let's get down to business, what can I do for you?” Leo asked in frustration.
“My brother told me about y'alls talk and I'm not feeling where you’re coming from at all, blood.” Now it was my turn to show my frustration.
Protect Me From My Friends Page 5
