by Ace Gucciano
But Trouble only reply was a head nod, with an envious mean mugg to match as he focused his attention on the two duffel bags they both carried.
“I wonder what da’ fuck y’all got in dem bags!”
He thought to himself as he watched them go inside and close the door. He then knocked on Maniac’s door as he started to think of where he was and where he wanted to be in life, knowing that robbing was definitely a thing of his past that he couldn’t afford to go back to, however he was dying to know what they had in their bags.
“Ha!! Ha!!” Maniac yelled the moment he opened the door and saw Trouble.
“Nigga, I thought you had dunn kicked us to da’ curb, while you went uhhhh…job hunting!”
“Chill!! My nigga.”
Trouble said in a serious tone of voice, and from the look on his face Maniac had a feeling that something was on his mind…
“On da’ real tho cuzzo, what’s up wit ya’?” Maniac inquired as he closed the front door behind Trouble.
“My nigga fuck, what’s up with me. I’m a’ight!! What’s up wit dem two migos across from you I just seen go inside?” Trouble asked, hoping Maniac would give him the reply he was looking for.
“Damn I missed dey ass!” Maniac uttered. As he looked out his living room window, realizing they already made it to their spot and he didn’t get a chance to see them. “From what I heard dem muhfuckas part of da’ cartel, and dey been getting money in da’ city fo’ years.”
“Where you hear dis shit at?”
“When Slick called me da’ other day…He gave me dat whole run down on dem muhfuckas. He said they’re a part of da’ cartel, and been getting money in da’ city fa’ years…”
As he continued looking out of the window as Maniac uttered “ I have been watchin' da’ time dey pull up and da’ time dey leave. I gotta em’ down packed, I just slipped today cause I overslept…Right now I’m waiting on da’ right time to run-up, draw down on em’, and take dey ass inside!” He turned around fired up a blunt of mid, sat down on the couch and said “I woulda been ran up but Slick was like dem muhfuckas some goons, renegades and don’t come at em’ unless I come correct.”
When Maniac was done filling him in on everything he snapped.
“My nigga Ion give ah fuck bout em’ being renegades, henchman, goons or wateva else dey known fo. Dey ain’t stop makin’ guns when dey made dere’s, dem muhfuckas bleed just like us.” As Maniac passed him the blunt of mid, he hit it a couple times before saying, “and where da’ fuck Smoke and Dre, dem niggaz weren’t down to ride?” When Trouble asked, all Maniac could do was laugh.
“Mannnnn, Ion even wanna tell you how dem niggaz felt at first, but when I fell back from em’ fo’ a minute, dey realized sellin nicks and dimes of mid ain’t it. So now, and mo’ than ever, dem boys mind is on coming up!!”
Trouble hit the blunt again before putting it out. “Good!!!” he replied, before going in deep thought.
My nigga get Dre and Smoke over here so I can let em’ know how it’s gonna go down!”
“A’ight…I got ya! What you came up wit tho?” Maniac inquired as he saw such a bold look on his face.
“Nothing’ yet…But I want erry’body at da’ round table, cause dis might be our only strike at dem muhfuckas.” He stated as he got up and looked out the window in their direction. “So we either go hard! Or go stand in a unemployment line somewhere!!”
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Early the following morning Trouble’s adrenaline rushed as many different thoughts dangled in his head on how they should make their move while in his room getting his usual morning workout in. When he was interrupted by a knock on the front door he took a break, and headed downstairs thinking Damn data’s what’s up! Erry’body on da same page dis morning. Up early, and ready to hit da’ round table, I like dat! He opened the door, and to his surprise it was Cierra who stood before him getting him a look that said Nigga, you sexy as fuck as she saw his muscular physique and six-pack abs to match.
“Wats good ma’, fuck you doin' poppin' up on me dis early?” he inquired in a deep tone.
Damn…Can’t believe I’m still feelin’ dis niggaz gangsta! Or is it dem muscles and dat attitude of his? Ion know but I ain’t finna let em’ know, dat shit’ll fuck erry’thang up and he da’ type of nigga dat’ll start tryna drag a bitch. She thought to herself before saying,
“Well if you had a phone I wouldn’t be po—”
“Get to da’ point, I gotta lotta shit on my mind…You came to get some mo’ of dis good wood huh?” he stated in a joking manner.
“Ummmm-No!!” she replied with anger and hostility in her voice so she could continue getting her point across. “I’m pregnant wit twins Trouble, dat’s wat brought me here dis early so I could let you know!”
In his eyes she was a alright chick. She was gorgeous, and looked like Nicki Minaj. The only difference was that she was thicker in the hips. But he was fresh out of prison, broke with no source of income, and damn sure couldn't see a set of twins becoming a part of his world; that would be a huge burden to him. So he said “Ian goin’ fo’ dat shit, I haven’t seen yo ass since da day I came home. Now you wanna pop up on a nigga out da’ blue talkin' bout you pregnant, fuck out of here wit dat shit!!”
She snapped saying, “First of all nigga, yo’ broke ain’t got shit goin' on, ya ass would be betta off fuckin' wit a bitch like me, but Ion blame you fo reacting da’ way you did.” She said as she went back to her Camaro, crunk it up, got in and let the top down. “It’s my fault, I shoulda known I couldn’t take a broke nigga from the slums and give him a chance, all y’all the same. Y’all true colors will always come out in the end!” she then shot him the bird, as she burnt rubber leaving the complex.
Dis hoe shake her ass in da’ club fo’ a living, plus I fucked her my first day home and ain’t no tellin’ who else hit it before me, shawty got me fucked…Dat’s why I fuck dese hoes witta rubber, cause dese bitches be triflin'! He thought to himself on his way back upstairs to finish his workout…
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No one at the round table knew what Trouble was thinking, but what went through each of their minds, was the last time Trouble called them to the roundtable was the last time they saw one another. Smoke, Dre and Slick did seven years, while Trouble ended up serving ten…Dre, Smoke, and Maniac were all seated in Maniac’s living room paying close attention while Trouble paced the floor in deep thought.
“A’ight y’all boys check da’ move, dis lick we boutta pull ain’t nun like dem lil’ petty licks we hit in da’ past!” He stated looking in Maniac’s direction. “We fuckin’ wit da cartel, and we all know how dey play, so when shit starts goin' crazy around here I hope y’all gonna be ready to go to war, if necessary…If not gone and get up outta here now cause da’ rest of us don’t need you knowin our business.”
He looked around at each of them, but couldn’t stop eyeballin’ Smoke and Dre. Little did he know they both wanted to exit, the moment he mentioned going to war with the cartel boys and knowing that they didn’t stand a chance in winning by them being a lot stronger than them; however, Smoke and Dre both remain seated, said they didn’t want it to appear to Maniac and Trouble that they were having second thoughts.
“I feel like dis da’ lick of a lifetime!” said Trouble looking around at everyone. “If we fail! Aye we tried, but it just ain’t meant…If any of us get shot in da’ process just shut da’ fuck up, and remain silent when dey go to askin’ questions, and we’ll hold ya’ cut fo’ you.”
He stopped pacing all of a sudden, leaned over the table, looked around at each of them and said, “But if we pull dis shit off, we gone get Slick outta jail and lay low for a minute.”
“Yeah I know, cause da’ hood gone be on fire,” said Smoke.
“Shit we gone be able to live like kings, fuck da’ hood cuzzo!” Maniac responded to Smoke, as they all laughed.
“Ssssh!!” Trouble wanted to make sure that he kept their undivid
ed attention. “A’ight now look dis is how it’s goin' down y’all…Smoke you and Dre still got dem Nextel chirps y’all use to use on da’ block?”
“Yeah Dre got em’ at his crib, why?” Smoke replied.
“Cause I want you to post up on da’ block wit one of em’ to inform us as soon as you see da’ Altima enter da’ complex. Dre you need to getta hot box so me, you and Maniac can lay low…The moment you “chirp” Dre and let em’ know that they’re headed our way, Maniac you and me gone get out and start walkin’ towards their direction like we’re headed up to da’ trap not paying dem any mind. Then as soon as one of em’ stick da’ key in da’ door to go inside, dat’s when we’ll run-up, draw down on em’ and take dey asses inside.”
Once Trouble was done he looked around at each of them for the first sign of weakness. When he didn’t notice any he said, “Now dat I went over erry’thang wit y’all. Any questions?”
“Yeah…I don’t think you ready for a lick. You fresh outta prison homie.” Dre noted.
“Well since you reminded me, wanna trade places wit me?!” he inquired being sarcastic, but at the same time wanted to see where his heart really was at, but when he willingly replied
“Yeah I’ll swap wit you homie! Let me be da’ one to set it off on dem muhfuckas!!!” He pretty much gave him a clue.
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Early the next morning Dre stole a Honda Civic from a nearby subdivision and headed back to Lexington Square to get up with everyone else at Maniac’s crib. When he got there he noticed all of them dressed in black and ready to go as they quietly chilled in the living room.
“Dre my nigga we counting on you! Don’t freeze up or panic ain’t no room fo’ fuck ups right now… we in dis shit to win it, it’s now or neva!”
“Homeboy!! Wat’s understood ain’t gotta be explained… Let’s get dis money!”
Chapter 6
Hours later, Trouble was seated behind the wheel of the stolen Honda Civic with Dre riding shotgun and Maniac in the backseat parked in between a Tahoe and an F-150 so he was certain they wouldn’t notice them once they arrived…
Forty-five minutes later Smoke chirped Dre “Get ready to make y’all move, here dey come!” he sounded excited from his adrenaline pumpin' as he made his way towards the back of the complex. Dre and Maniac hurried and got out and walked in the direction of their crib. “Oh shit, dere dey go!” Dre whispered, once he saw the Altima pull into its normal parking spot in front of their door and both of them got out caring only one duffel bag each making their way towards the front door. The Hispanic guy in the front reached to stick the key in the door, while the other look to the left, seeing Dre and Maniac coming along and didn’t have a worry in the world as he nodded his head at them, “Sup Holmes!?”
“Wats up!!?” Maniac quickly replied back but just as the Hispanic guy looked away he felt something in his peripheral and looked to his left again, “What the fuck? You lost amigo?” he said to the Hispanic guy…
Once he saw the chrome F&N in his face he knew what time it was. “Hurry up and get inside before I kill y’all muhfuckers!” said Dre keeping the F&N aimed at the back of his head as they made their way inside. Once inside he kept the guy close to him letting him feel the F&N on the back of his head. Maniac tried to grab the other guy and escort him down the hallway, but once he tried to get away he slowed him down with two shots in the back from his glock .40. Dre heard the shots in the hallway and knew then that their time was now limited. “Where is it at migo, don’t make me do you like my boy did ya’ potna!”
“No English my friend…No English!!” he quickly replied.
“Oh you think it’s a game bitch!?” Dre yelled as he spun him around and stuck the gun in his mouth.
“Jackpot!! I found it!” Maniac shouted from the back room. “Come to da’ back room!”
He quickly escorted him to the room where Maniac was and pushed him to the floor.
“Muhfucka I know yo’ ass speak English, I should bust yo’ ass fo’ lying!”
“Man fuck him, tie his ass up so we can go. I know dis at least a hundred thousand I just saw in dis bag, five brick in dis one...fuck you had to shoot em’ fo, now we gotta hurry and get da fuck on.”
Outside Trouble noticed a few of his neighbors looking out the window and standing on their front porches including his mother who was on the phone trying to see where the gunshots had come from.
“Y’all muhfuckas hurry da’ fuck up!!” he said to himself…before he knew it, out came Dre, and Maniac running towards the car. Once they got in Trouble hit the gas speeding out of Lexington Square nonstop until he made to the red light on the main road. It was yellow and he was going so fast that if he tried to slow down he would draw too much attention to them, so once it turned red he kept going full speed, passing by two crown victoria’s that were headed in the direction they had just come from.
They all got a good look at both cars when they pass them, noticing the words Clayton County Police on the side.
“Slow dis shit down nigga!!” Maniac yelled from da’ back seat, but was way too late. “Shit here dey come, dawg!!” Smoke yelled as he watched them both making u-turns in the middle of the street, just before turning the lights on top of their cars on.
“Fuck dis shit I ain’t going back to jail, hell naw!!” Maniac shouted, before opening the door and jumping out while Trouble was doing about 45mph on a back road.
“Damn he hit the ground hard! I know he broke some.” Dre uttered.
“Look he jumped up. Now he running to da’ woods!” Smoke shouted, excited to see him get away.
“What y’all plan on doing cause I can’t stop now its too many of em’ on us!” Trouble shouted as his adrenaline rushed and is heart raced a hundred miles per hour as it was about to explode.
“Hell naw we can’t stop!! Try to leave dey ass ‘fore dey fuck ‘round and call da’ chopper, ain’t no gettin' away from dat shit dawg!” Smoke stressed.
All of a sudden Trouble quickly swerved to the left trying to keep from hitting the road spike he spotted in front of him at the last minute. But it was too late he lost control of the car causing it to spin out of control, stopping once he slammed into a pole. His head hit hard against the windshield, causing it to knock him unconscious. Smoke and Dre made a quick exit, leaving Trouble and the two duffel bags that they went through hell and hot water to get at the scene.
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Maniac, Smoke and Dre all managed to make it back to Maniac’s crib safely. Neither of the three said a word as the observed several officers going from door to door asking people if they saw or heard anything. The paramedics had already taken the wounded Hispanic guy to the hospital, and they could tell that the other guy was telling the officers, “No English!! No English!! Me speak no English.”
“Yo! You got da’ whole hood hot! Fuck you shoot em’ fo!?” Dre said with anger in his voice.
“Shit he tried to get away!” Maniac replied.
“So you shot em’!?”
“Got damn right, I couldn’t take no chances. Shit ain’t no telling what dat muhfucka was tryna get to!” Maniac angrily emphasized.
“Now what da’ fuck we gone do!?” Dre yelled, before firing up the blunt of mid he just finish rolling, stressing, “We went out bad as fuck! Leaving Trouble and both bags.”
Maniac snapped yelling, “Why da’ fuck you ain’t grab em’ nigga? You had both of em’ in da’ back seat wit you nigga!”
Dre hit his blunt, and hit it once more before passing it to Smoke. He then turn around and swung on Maniac hitting him with a quick left punch in his face, followed by a right that knocked him on the floor. “Get ya’ ass up nigga!” Dre hollered. He was tall and lanky while Maniac was short and out of shape. Smoke remained seated still blown with the outcome of the lick, but was still ready to break up the fight if it got out of control. So Maniac got back up and they squared off in the middle of his living room. He held up his fists, hit him with a fake, the
n tried to rush in, but Dre saw it coming and backed up. So Maniac took off his shirt and rushed again. Once he noticed his back was against the wall and he couldn’t go anywhere he went underneath Dre, grabbing him by his legs, picking him up from the floor, and dropping him hard on his back. Once Maniac got on top of him he had the upper hand, throwing punch after punch. “Bitch ass Nigga!!” he hollered as he grabbed his neck and started choking him until Smoke stepped in. “A’ight that’s enough.” But Maniac wouldn’t let go shouting, “Nigga da’ next time you build you nuts up to swing on me, I’ma kill yo’ ass!!”
“I said that’s it dawg! Y’all niggaz trippin'!” he yelled snatching Maniac off him.
Dre didn’t like the outcome, “I’m fitting to put my hands on you now, bitch ass nigga! Let's get it nigga, Round two!” he yelled fired up ready to go again.
“Gone sit yo’ ass down fo’ I beat ya’ ass again nigga!” Dre shouted.
“Man y’all let dat shit go we got too much going on right now fo’ y’all niggaz to be fighting…Shit we still don’t even know what’s up wit Trouble.” Smoke mentioned as he grabbed a pack of Newport’s out of his pocket and fired one up.
“So…it’s ova Maniac?” Smoke inquired standing between the two.
“Yeah I’m good cuzzo!”
“What bout you Dre, it’s ova wit?”
He nodded his head with a disgusting look of animosity in his eyes…A hour later when all of the tension cooled down amongst them the three of them sat in the living room speechless smoking one blunt after another, and thinking about all the drama that took place.
“Yo Dre, what’s on ya’ mind dawg? You been sittin’ there wit ya’ head down fo’ da past hour you good dawg?” Smoke asked.
“Yeah I’m good homie. I was sittin’ here thinking ‘bout Trouble…my nigga he woulda neva got jammed up if I ain’t trade places wit em’, I mean, we still ain’t get shit but the whole outcome mighta been different.” Dre sobbed.
“You musta read my mind Dre, I swear I was just sitting here thinkin' the same thang…I just hate we had to leave em’ there by himself, shit if da’ folks weren’t so close up on us I woulda carried his ass!” Maniac stressed as he slammed his hand on the living room table shouting, “Damn!!! How da’ fuck he get knocked unconscious anyway?”
