by AP Jermaine
“Huh? Oh yeah, yeah. Aye yo! If yall motherfuckers already copped, then go ahead and step!” Shell yelled out with not quite enough bass in his voice for me to believe he really meant it. I got the feeling that he liked seeing all the fiends standing around high, knowing they’d spent money that would eventually end up in his pockets.
“And what the fuck is that clown doing?” I asked nodding at Cream.
“Yo Cream! How the fuck you making money if you out her fucking wit these birds?”
“Birds? Nigga who you calling a bird!” One of the girls yelled, throwing her hand on her hip.
“I’m calling you a bird, bird. Now go ahead and fly yo ass off.”
“Fuck you, nigga!”
“Maybe later Tweety. I gotta get this paper right now. Cream! Come the fuck on here!” Shell yelled at his worker. Cream said something to the young chics, causing them to roll their eyes at Shell before walking away cursing.
“Ay cutie pie! Cutie pie! Come here, I got some nice stuff for you.” The fat lady at the yellow station wagon yelled to me from the back of her vehicle. Shell walked into the crib, and with me being curious to see just what Ms. Fat lady had in her trunk, I walked down to the street where she stood waiting.
“What’s up big mama?”
“OOOwee! You is a cutie pie. You don’t need no date for tonight, do you?” She smiled a snaggle toothed grin. I knew she was trying to loosen me up to spend some money, but I still played along.
“Nah big mama. It’s tempting but I’m straight. You probably too much for me to handle anyway.”
“Okay cutie pie, but look, I got some Levi jeans, some Izod shirts, some fitted hats and some cigars.”
I knew I didn’t need no more damn clothes. I’d already spent too much money that day, but a true hustler always respects the next man, “or” woman’s hustle. At least she wasn’t out here begging. I figured hell, with all the money that I’d already spent, a few more dollars wouldn’t kill me. “Let me see that yellow Izod.” The tag read $52.00. “How much you want for this?”
“For you, cutie pie. Give me $15.00 You aint got no dope, do you?”
“Nah big mama I’m chillin.”
“Oh. Okay. They got some in there. It aint the best, but it’ll get you off.”
“What kinda cigars you got?”
“Oh, I got some cases baby. I got Phillies, Silver Game, Swisher Sweets, Dutch Master Coronas, and Backwoods.”
“Damn big mama. Where you get all them cases?”
“Come on cutie pie. You know a lady never tells her secrets.” She smiled another snaggle toothed grin.
“How many boxes in a case?”
“Twenty - five.”
“How much you want for one?”
“Give me fifteen.” She looked like she was holding her breath, scared that I was gonna say hell no. I knew it had to be hard on a woman out here on her own. She was probably used to cats beating her outta her shit all the time.
“I tell you what. Throw in one of them Yankee fitted and I’ll give you fifty for the shirt, hat, and cigars.”
“Oh, thank you cutie pie! You’s a sweet angel!” She jumped, grabbing the things I’d asked for with the quickness, probably afraid that I’d change my mind.
“Hold on before you take that stuff out big mama.” I stopped her and handed her two twenties and a ten. I parked my car around the corner in Juniper Square, I need you to give me a ride back around there.”
“Oh, Okay cutie pie. Just let mama run in here and get her two bundles. That fifty put me right where I needed to be, bless yo heart. I aint had no shot since this morning, and mama bout to be sick.”
“It’s all good big mama, handle ya business.” I laughed as she struggled her big ass up the hill to get to the front door of the trapspot. I rolled a blunt and smoked over half of it while I waited, before Shell and big mama re-emerged from the dopehouse.
“Okay cutie pie yall ready?” Big mama asked with her speech now slurred. It was easy for me to tell that she’d finally gotten what she wanted so badly. Some dope in her veins. I won’t mad at her though, fuck it. Live and let live.
“Man, my fuckin mama just called me and want me to bring her a carton of Newports and a six pack of Master Cylinder Bulls. Her and her drunk ass friend Peanut over there playing cards. Bru, can you run me by the store, then shoot me by her crib. My word this the last stop.”
I really didn’t have shit to do but he didn’t know that. “Nigga you need to come up out them pockets with some gwap since you a Kingpin now! This a “Black Mans Wish” nigga! This shit drink gas!”
“Ha, ha, ha I got you nigga. Just pull up to the pump when we get there.”
“Yeah, and maybe your sister will be over there and I can knock her off right quick.” I laughed my ass off.
“Nigga please. You know Tonya hate yo fuckin guts.”
“Yeah, I know. I’m just fuckin wit ya.” I grinned thinking to myself. Yeah, hate she can’t get no more of this dick.
Chapter 36 “Easy Money”
Ms. Tina was still attractive for her age. She was 46 going on 20. Brown skinned with just a handful of titties and a butter soft ass, she kind of put you in the mind of Allen Iverson’s mama on some Kush. We’d long ago nicknamed her Lucy, because every time she walked by, that ass jiggled like it might break loose from her stretch pants. Shell hated when we’d be at his crib and I’d say “Lucccy, I love you.” Just like the T.V. show. We walked up in his mom’s crib, and there they were just like he’d said. Ms. Tina and her girlfriend Peanut, sitting at the kitchen table drinking 24 ounce Bulls, smoking Newports and playing Tonk. They were cackling like two hens over god knows what. Probably talking about some of the arsenal of men they were fucking. Yeah, Latonya got her whorish ways honestly. Just like the song says, “She Get It From Her Mama.”
“Oh my god, Teddy! Hey baby!” Ms. Tina jumped up from the table when she saw me. She was wearing a wife beater with no bra, showing off that beautiful mouthful of titties, along with cut off short shorts and flip flops, with her toes painted up in some kind of flowered design. I gotta admit, Lucy looked good as a motherfucker!
“Hey Ms. Tina, how you doing mam.”
“Mam! Boy don’t be mamming me like I’m some old ass lady! You just call me Tina. She smiled. When you get home?”
“A few days ago.”
“Well you sure is looking good. Aint he looking good Peanut?”
“Mmm Hmm” Peanut agreed, looking me up and down in a way I knew all too well. Shell put the beer and cigarettes on the kitchen table, then stepped into the walk-in closet.
“Boy, what you standing way over there for? Looking crazy like you aint family! Bring yo butt over here and give yo auntie Tina a hug!” I walked over to give Ms. Tina a hug, and instantly she shocked the shit outta me, when she hugged me with her left arm and grabbed a handful of my ass with her right! Pulling me in close, she whispered into my ear. “You know you can come by here by yourself sometimes don’t ya?”
“Ma!” Shell came outta the closet to a scene of his mama molesting me.
“Oh, boy shut up. I’m just playing wit Teddy. He family.” Ms. Tina said sitting back down at the table and picking up her hand like she hadn’t done a thing.
“Man, come on let’s go.” Shell said, looking back at his moms disgusted as we headed back out the front door.
“You Must Be Used to Me Spending, …And All That Sweet Wining and Dining, But I’m Fucking You Tonight.” The weather was just right, and the chics were out in abundance; as me and Shell sat at the light singing along to my nigga Biggie. Even though my BMW wasn’t the hottest thing going these days, I was still “that nigga” at heart.
“Oh shit, there go my man Ray!” Shell yelled over the music, straining to see outta my driver’s side window.
“What? Who the fuck?” I started to ask Shell who the hell he was talking about, but before I could get it out, Shell was already out of the car, and walking around to the passenger side of th
e Gray Range Rover. We were stopped at a red light, at the corner of Alston Ave. and Main St. I watched out my window as Shell opened the passenger door of the Range and slid in. A few seconds later, he leaned out the window and yelled, “Follow us!” Quickly they pulled off into traffic, as I pulled out three cars behind them, wondering where the fuck this nigga was going now? I myself was ready to head back to the crib to put up the clothes and shit I’d copped today. And maybe even get a lil pussy. We rode straight out Alston Avenue past Hwy 54/55 headed towards Cary. I was just about to turn the fuck around and head back, when the Range made a quick right and pulled over in front of a white house with a fenced in backyard. A cherry red CLK Mercedes sat in the driveway. Shell stepped outta the passenger side of the Range and upon seeing the driver, I realized it was a cat named Ray Duncan we’d went to school with. Last time I’d heard of him, he’d went to college for a year or two, then into the Navy or Army or something like that. As they walked towards the house a few words were exchanged, then all of a sudden, Shell grabbed Ray roughly by his arm, whipped out his pistol, and smacked Ray across his head with it! BLOP! “What the fuck!” My mind raced as I watched the Flintstone knot jump out on the side of Rays head! Blood spilled from the knot, down across Rays Coogie t-shirt and onto the ground! Shell waited as Ray unlocked the door, then pushed him through! This nigga was trippin! I didn’t know what the fuck this nigga was involving me in, but I was fresh outta the penitentiary, and won’t about to catch no case and have to go right back, fuckin with this clown! Whatever he was doing, he’d jumped outta my goddamn car to do it! Immediately and without hesitation, I threw my shit down in drive, stomped on the gas and pulled the fuck off! “FUCK!” I screamed out in frustration! So, how bad I wanted to leave this nigga for pulling this clown shit, but the real nigga in me just wouldn’t allow me to do it. Shit! I slammed down on the brakes before throwing my BMW in reverse and backing up to the right corner of the front yard, swinging my head back and forth, frantically searching for any signs of trouble! The fuck is taking this nigga…. My thoughts were interrupted when Shell calmly walked out the front door, then swiftly down the driveway carrying a large Polo duffle bag. The second he opened the car door I was pulling the fuck off!
“Damn bru, you gone break my damn leg!” Shell yelled, having to fight to get in the car as I picked up speed!
“Nigga what the fuck is you doing! And what is that smell!”
“That’s that Sour Diesel baby!” Shell grinned as he went through the duffle bag. I was ready to punch a hole through this niggas head, but now wasn’t the time. We were about half a mile from his lil chicken coop, and I intended to get there quick, fast, and in a motherfuckin hurry! My car smelled like Woodstock! A police cruiser pulled up beside us at the light and my back went rigid! I just knew this was it! He was gonna pull us for DWB! (Driving While Black) Two young niggas in a BMW. It was over! Twice I almost snatched the gears down in low and peeled the fuck out! What was probably only about 10 seconds, seemed like 5 hours! The light changed, the cop turned left and we kept straight. Shit! One left, one right, three minutes more and we pulled up in front of his house. Shell dived out the car damn near running as I parked my shit in the cut. I didn’t know if this nigga Ray was out riding around right now searching for my shit. The rules of the streets never change. Rule # 1, DON’T SLEEP ON NOBODY!!! When I got to the door it was locked. Which may have been a good thing, because my mind was set on busting Shell in his shit! I knocked and Shell opened. Before walking in though, I surveyed the outside area once more, just to make sure we weren’t being followed.
“Nigga have you lost yo goddamn mind!” I screamed on his ass as I slammed and locked the door behind me. Shell just laughed and dumped the duffle bag out on the table. There were six zip lock bags of tree, each about half the size of a pillowcase, another bag of what I guessed to be coke, some jewels and a plastic Food Lion grocery bag of rubber banded rolls of money. “Nigga what the fuck is this?”
“What you mean? You see what it is. Its easy money my nigga.” Shell answered as he went into unbanding and counting the money.
“Yo you robbing niggas outta my car! You about to make me have to murder one of these niggas and I’m fresh out! I told you I’m trying to chill!”
“Man, that pussy aint gone do shit.”
“How the fuck you know!? Aint shit special about yo pistol nigga! They make em every day!”
“Man, I’m telling you that punk aint built like that. Niggas a schoolboy. He got hurt playing ball overseas, come home and wanna start calling hisself Ray Bands. Call hisself got a record label and shit. Nigga don’t know nothing about the streets! Since the nigga wanna hustle and play gangsta, I showed him what was real. This probably aint nothing but bout eleven or twelve ounces right here,” Shell picked up the coke then threw it back down on the table. “I know for a fact he copping at least three or four birds. I shoulda made him take me to to his real house, where his wife and kids at. I know that’s where the big stash is at. If I had time I woulda scraped him for real. I knew you was gonna be buggin though, so I’ll settle for this right now. I’ll catch him again. Oh shit, and yo check it! As soon as we got in the door, this thick, chocolate motherfuckin broad came running her happy ass down the hallway. Butt ass naked! Damn! I’m talking titties bouncing, ass swinging! Good lord! I stopped that tasty looking motherfucker right in her tracks, and made her turn her thick ass around and go get everything. You know I kept her naked while she got it. Whew! Boy that bitch was thick! But fuck that. Just like I said nigga, this free money. And you aint got shit to worry about cause the nigga soft. You didn’t rob the nigga anyway. I did.”
“Yeah but you jumped outta my motherfuckin whip to do it! A black BMW wit twenties on it! You feel me?!”
“Man stop worrying about that weak ass nigga. Help me count the rest of this money! Here take this.” Shell tossed me a zip lock bag of the tree. The shit was so strong, I felt like I was smoking it! “That’s a pound of Sour. You can sell it whole for five stacks, or break it down and do whatever.”
