Turned Out by His Hood Mentality 1

by Diamond D Johnson

  Any niggas kicking it with me in my section tonight were there because, in the five years that I was sitting down, they were writing me, putting money on my books, and making sure that both my mama and my ole boy were straight. That alone got them a seat at the table.

  My baby mamas were in the section because they made it possible for me to have these beautiful ass kids, so that got them a spot regardless. Twinkle’s doctor friend, her ass better be lucky that she was the prettiest shit that I had ever seen in my life. Otherwise, she would have been on the main floor with the rest of the party-goers, just looking up at us and wishing she could come and party with us.

  2:00 P.M.

  “So, what do you think?” Lenny asked as we left the last home for the day.

  Today was just a bunch of information, to the point that I had a fuckin’ headache. Granted, I ain’t think this shit was going to be easy, but damn. I sat in a meeting with four other people earlier today. They basically just further explained precisely what it meant to flip houses, the proper way to do it, the risk vs. the reward, credit, all types of shit. I felt like I was in a business class or some shit. The thing is, I was smart. When it came to some shit that I found an interest in, I was going to pay close attention. I never wanted anyone to be able to use fuck up and my name in the same sentence.

  Lenny was a real estate agent, and he was really good friends with Mr. Pride. He stood before me in a plain white tee, some jeans, and black sneakers. Want to know what, though? His ass was a fuckin’ millionaire. Filthy ass rich, and he was going to school me, so I could be rich in this industry as well. Then he was going to school me in the stock market, so I could have money coming in from that too.

  Lenny just reminded me of a cool, nerdy ass big brother. He wasn’t the type of person that I would cool it with and pass a blunt back and forth with, but that was cool because sometimes we needed change and to step outside of the box.

  “Say I want to go with this house right here, right? The asking price is $150,000. It needs a hell of a lot in terms of renovations and shit. It’s in a good ass area, and the view of that lake is fuckin’ beautiful. I would want to stay in some shit like this. It’s obvious that the owners before just let the shit go to pieces. One of the things they were talking about in the meeting this morning was comparables, so when I pulled up, I googled both of the neighbor’s houses, and one sold for $250,000, while the other sold for $275,000. For a four-bedroom home, in a gated community, with security and a pool in the back, I feel that if I put at least $100,000 worth of renovations into this shit, I can sell this for like $300,000. Shit, if not, $350,000,” I said, rubbing my hands together, knowing that I could easily do it.

  Lenny smiled as he brought his fist out. The shit was lame as fuck, but I ended up laughing and banged my fist with his.

  “Now you sound like a professional! You sound like an agent. I have faith in you. I know you will go far in this. I do have one little recommendation,” he said.

  I folded my arms across my chest and looked down at him in anticipation.

  “Your appearance. The gold teeth, the jeans sagging, the tattoos, it’s a lot. I mean this in no type of gay way, but you’re a handsome man, so all you need to do is put on a suit. My colleagues saw you today, and each of them told me that they thought this was a joke. But when you started speaking, and they saw how intelligent you were, you were able to convince all of them, and you pretty much won them all over. This is a business world, and I don’t want you to meet with different investors, and they don’t take you seriously because they might think that you are a… umm, how should I put this? A thug,” he told me.

  I let out a sarcastic laugh and then pinched the bridge of my nose to keep from spazzing.

  “All money spends the same, right? Whether I flip a house in a three-thousand-dollar suit or some Levi jeans hanging off my ass, the motha fucka is still going to get flipped, right? I appreciate the suggestion, but I ain’t changing shit. I look forward to doing business with you, Lenny. Watch how quickly I make my first million,” I said with so much confidence as I patted him on his back, and then I jumped into my black Charger.

  This was my old car. A car that I bought in cash before I went in. This shit had all kinds of horsepower, and I could clearly be heard coming down the street. I quickly pulled out of the driveway and turned up the music, which was connected to my phone via Bluetooth. I was put onto Rod Wave when I was in prison, and I swear, this nigga’s music will take you through some shit. He was like a preacher for all the hood niggas who had been through some shit.

  I blasted one of my favorite songs, “Cuban Links,” as I pushed it to my mama’s house. She’d been hitting a nigga up all morning, trying to see if I was going to come over and kick it with her. I swear, she didn’t even want a nigga to breathe without being in her sight. I understood it, though; she went five years without me, so I could see why she would want me around. That was my baby, so I was going to head over, especially since she said she was doing a seafood boil and inviting over a few family members to chill. I loved some seafood, so that was all she had to say for me to come running.

  I texted her on the drive over to ask if she needed me to pick up anything, and she told me to hit the liquor store and bring some bottles over. I should have known her drinking ass was going to tell me to pick up some liquor. My mama loved 1738, so I made sure to pick up a bottle of that, some Patron, and because I was a Henny kind of guy, I picked up some Henny for me. I wasn’t going to overdo the shit because I drank a lot last night, and my fuckin’ head was still hurting.

  After getting the drinks, I pulled into the gated community where my mama resided. Knowing that my mama ain’t have to live smack dab in the middle of the projects anymore caused me to smile as I drove through a neighborhood where the grass was so green that the shit looked fake. You ain’t see crackheads walking up and down the street, begging for money, or little kids outside with their noses all running and shit with no shoes on. And you damn sure ain’t see a nigga standing in the stairwell, getting his dick sucked. Nah, none of that shit was going on over here.

  My mama was a fuckin’ queen, and she deserved to live in some shit like this. As a little ass boy, I used to always tell her that I was going to take care of her when God allowed me the chance to, and I made good on that promise. This house was paid for before I went in, and I’d gotten her the nail salon that she’d always dreamed of having.

  My mama used to do nails in my grandma’s kitchen. The way women would be sitting on our porch, waiting for their turn, you would have thought that my grandma was inside selling fish dinners. Due to my mama having me at an early age, I always felt like she missed out on so much shit. So, when I went over and beyond for her, the shit was for a reason.

  I pulled my car into the massive driveway, and there were plenty of cars parked. I saw Nesha’s X5 and Denim’s Range Rover. For them to be in attendance, I hoped they came with my damn kids. They were the first two people that I wanted to see once I touched down, and I gave both of my baby mamas direct orders to have them waiting for me at my mama’s house. Surprisingly, their hardheaded asses followed a nigga’s directions.

  I got out of the car and let my clean Air Force Ones hit the pavement as I carried the bag of liquor in my hands. Since I still had my mama’s key on my key chain, I used it to let myself in. I could hear the music playing, the laughter, all of that. The shit kind of fucked me up a little bit because back when I was in that 4x4 prison cell, I was willing to sell my fuckin’ soul to be able to have some moments like this. I had a big family, so to speak, and we were big on family shit.

  I walked further into the kitchen, and my beautiful daughter, Khari, was the first one to spot me. She jumped up from my mama’s lap and ran in my direction.

  Like I hadn’t just seen her yesterday, I bent down and picked her up. A beautiful chocolate princess is what I liked to call her. She had that cocoa butter shit in her hair, and it smelled so good. Khari had long, thick ass hair
like her mother, and it was pulled up into a big puff today. She was dressed really cute in a denim dress, some sandals, and a little purse wrapped around her waist. Khari was going to be tall like her daddy, with a slick ass mouth like her mother. As far as looks, my daughter was Denim’s twin. She must have been mad at herself during her pregnancy because Khari came out looking just like her ass.

  As I was loving on her and kissing her cheek, my son crossed over all our family to make his way to me. Handsome ass lil nigga, looking just like I did when I was a kid, only thing is, he had a head full of hair. Lil’ Bill had dark skin just like me, but he was a little lighter. His full head of hair was in box braids. He had a clean line up like his mama had just taken him to the barber this morning. He was clean, dressed in a white Burberry polo with some white shorts, and Burberry sneakers were on his feet. He had a chain around his neck with a nameplate, and one of his AirPods was in his ear. Just like me, he had light brown eyes that sparkled as he made his way over.

  My son tried to be all cool and just reach out for a pound, but I pulled his lil’ ass into me and kissed him all over his face. He was trying to be a hardass in front of family, but two days ago, his face was filled with snot and tears when he saw me walk through the door. My kids ain’t know that I was coming home. We kept that shit a surprise.

  “Who you got lining my man up? This shit is nice,” I said, cuffing my son by his chin and turning his head from right to left, so I could examine his lineup. The shit was damn near perfect.

  I was talking to my baby mama, who was standing in the kitchen with my mama and my grandma. More than likely, she was trying to be slick and soak up all the family recipes and shit.

  That ass on Nesha was fuckin’ stupid! Shit was poking out of this fuckin’ world. All last night, I tried not to look at that thick shit, and even right now, in those tight ass jeans, I was trying not to look at that shit either, but it was fuckin’ impossible; I swear it was. The second she caught me looking, she was going to think that I wanted to fuck her, so I was trying to be discreet with my eyes, but that was just too much ass, man.

  My weakness was a woman with a big ass booty. Nesha knew that shit too, and that’s why she wore what she had on today. She was prancing around this bitch in some high-rise denim jeans with a half shirt that showed off her tiny waist and her platinum belly button ring, which was shining. Ion know if shorty had plans to hit up a happy hour when she left this bitch or what, but she was giving me club attire vibes.

  Sidnesha used to have long ass hair that looked like weave, but every fuckin’ day of her life, she insisted that I stressed her ass out to the point that she decided to cut it all off, but I ain’t have shit to do with that change. It was cute, though. It fit her round face.

  “My homeboy that I know. He’s the best in the city. Don’t nobody line my baby up like he does,” she bragged.

  “You all on that nigga dick! He aight. I’m home now. From now on, I take my lil man to the barbershop, and I’m taking him where I go,” I told her because this best in the city nigga sounded like somebody whose dick she was suckin’. Granted, I could give two fucks, but nah... keep my son from around that shit.

  I could tell she wanted to say something, but she threw her hands in the air and let it go.

  “You just got back home. I ain’t saying shit,” she said and shut up, which was her best bet.

  “Don’t y’all two start this shit up in here today! It’s kids in here!” my mama fussed.

  I kissed my daughter one last time on her cheek and then lowered her to the floor.

  Denim was sitting at the breakfast table in her own little world, texting away on her cell phone. I went over to my grandma, who was seasoning crabs, and I lovingly kissed all over her cheek. Just like my mama, my grandmother was my world, man. Growing up, I lived with her because my mama had me so young. In a way, I felt like I had two mamas.

  “Make sure you throw all that Old Bay, garlic, lemon pepper, all that shit on mine. You know how I like my crabs,” I told my grandma.

  Hands down, she was the best cook in the world to me. My mama too, though, but my grandma always had some shit in her meals that came out just a bit better than my mama.

  “Bringing those trifling bitches home with you from the club, that’s exactly what your ass is going to have… crabs,” my mama shot.

  The kids had run off, so it wasn’t like they were around to hear this conversation. I laughed as I walked over and kissed her lovingly on her cheek too. My mama was forty-four, but she looked every bit of twenty-five. I swear she was out here giving these young hoes a run for their money. Even now, my ole boy, who was sitting with his brother in the den area, kept looking over at my mama. I knew he wanted that old thing back, but my mama made like she hated the nigga. My parents were always at it, man. One minute they loved the fuck out of each other, and the next, they hated each other. Either way, I was just glad I had them both in my life.

  “I saw you go home with those two bitches. I told your mama,” Twinkle said, bringing her little ass over and fuckin’ with me. Her snitching ass was always in somebody’s fuckin’ business.

  “I’m surprised you saw shit. You were damn near fuckin’ on the dance floor. You think your ass is grown? I’ll take off my damn belt,” I said in all seriousness as I pulled her to me.

  She laughed like that shit was the funniest shit in the world. I talked with her for a few more minutes, and then I went over to my ole boy and my uncle Malcom, leaving the women in the kitchen.

  “Fuck you keep looking over there for? Keep yo’ eyes on the TV, nigga,” I joked to my dad the second I took a seat next to him on the couch.

  He took a swig of his drink, and then he waved me off, knowing that I’d caught his ass red handed staring at my mama. My dad and I had a cool ass relationship. Yeah, he and my mama conceived me at a young age, but he’s always been there. He and my mama didn’t always see eye to eye, but that didn’t stop shit when it came to our relationship.

  As I said before, my daddy used to be heavy in the streets. The thing that set my mama apart from my baby mamas was the fact that my mama didn’t encourage his street shit. She actually wanted him out of the streets and to go legit. Because he wasn’t ready to give up that lifestyle, that’s where they butted heads.

  These days, my dad was legit. He ran his own painting business, so pretty soon, I would need his services when it was time to paint some of the houses that I planned to flip.

  Just like my mama, he made it his business to pick up the phone whenever I called home from prison, he put money on my books, and he came to see me a couple of times every month. He did that for five years straight. This nigga could be on a fuckin’ ladder, painting a house, but if I rang him, he answered. For that, this nigga could get any fuckin’ thing he wanted from me.

  “Ain’t nobody worrying about your fuckin’ mama. I been in this bitch for thirty minutes, and she hasn’t said shit to me. I’m trying to keep the peace because I want to soak in this moment of being in the same room with my son. Plus, I got my grandkids here, but the second this shit is over, I’m on her ass,” he said.

  I laughed and shook my head because my parents stayed in some shit.

  “What’s wrong with baby mama number two over there? You see the way that leg bouncing in that seat? Nigga, she’s going to fuck around and cut your dick off. What you and Denim got going on, man?” my uncle Malcom asked me.

  I was close as fuck with my uncle Malcom. He was my dad’s younger brother, and he was a good dude. Unlike my father, he wasn’t in the streets like that when my dad was. Back when he was younger, he used to run track. He ended up getting a full ride to run at Florida State, and he graduated from there and everything. These days, my uncle had his own youth track program, right in the same hoods that we all grew up in. Once Lil Bill’s season of football was over, I was going to take him out there and have him run for his great uncle.

  “You see I’m ignoring her ass though, right? If I say anything,
my daughter will have to witness me curse her mama out, so I’m trying to chill. Monterius looked out for a nigga and had me come home to a few mil, plus the money that I had saved up myself. I went to the bank yesterday morning and wired both my baby mamas $250K each. These lame ass, selfish ass niggas out here not doing no shit like that, yo’.

  “On top of that, when I went in, I had my mama transfer both my baby mamas enough money to last them for the five years that I had to sit down for. One thing about it, even when I was behind them walls, I always made sure that my kids were straight. I make sure that my baby mamas are straight too because if they not in a good place, then they can’t properly take care of my kids. Denim and I did our little thing when I was locked, but that’s it. I ain’t never tell her that we were a couple or no shit like that,” I voiced to my uncle.

  We were talking in hushed tones because I ain’t need anyone to hear what we were saying.

  “Negro, please! I’m sure you were hitting her with some prison talk. Don’t sit there and play innocent. She ain’t mad at your black ass for nothing,” my uncle said, calling me out on my shit.

  I laughed a little bit, knowing that I couldn’t lie to this man.

  “I might have told her a couple of times that I wanted her to have another one of my babies. At the same time, nigga, I had to sit for five years! A nigga was desperate to say any fuckin’ thing,” I said in my defense.

  “And I get that, but at the same time, she probably believed the shit that you told her out of desperation. You telling a woman that you want her to have another baby by you, that’s some serious shit. I ain’t going to jump down your throat because I know you just got home, and you been receiving lectures from everybody. But what I will say to you is if it’s going to be strictly about the kids, then make it like that only. You ain’t gotta fuck on yo’ baby mamas to co-parent with them. Personally, I don’t see you with either of them because we all done witnessed the bad that comes with you being tied down to them. You need to find you a good, lowkey kind of woman. She ain’t gotta be the baddest bitch in the world, but just let it be somebody worth loving,” he said.