Power of the Pussy |+18

31. Get Down or Lay Down

Trigga

"This how it's going down. I want four of y'all inside. Two will be cooking and bagging. The other two are on lookout. Never sell in here. This ain't no hang-out spot. Another four will be dealing with the fiends outside. Every 8 hours, y'all switch with a new group. Y'all operate in shifts." I broke it down to a group of young hittas. It had to be about fifteen of them.

It was time to set up shop and I had a gang of little niggas who was hungry. I think the reason I took to them was because I can relate to their struggle. The majority of them were teenagers who either lost their parents to drugs or to the system. Some were in the system themselves and their guardians just didn't give a damn about them. I know what it's like to wonder where your next meal is going to come from. Wearing the same shabby clothes that couldn't keep you warm during winter time.

I tried my best to look out for them here and there. They had been in the streets hustling and living fast at an early age just to feed themselves. They did what they had to do and I admire that. So now it was time to put some real money in their pockets.

The door busted open and in walked Benji with someone not too far behind. It had to be his son because they damn near looked like identical twins. With an obvious age difference.

Benji's brows raised as he looked at everyone in astonishment. "Wow, Rico's body ain't even cold yet, and you already tryna take over? And I know y'all niggas ain't up in here buying his shit. Where's the loyalty to the nigga who fed y'all!" He screamed at Rico's old crew who were in attendance as well.

I stared at this old ass nigga make a fool out of himself. Benji couldn't accept the fact that his time was up. Once you were touching 40, you had no business being in the streets. Benji and Rico's names used to ring bells. In their primes, they were nothing to play with but they both made the mistake of getting too comfortable.

"It ain't personal, just business. Niggas still gotta eat," Mark replied. Someone from their old crew.

"That's bullshit! We need to be finding out who did that shit to Rico. My nigga can't even have an open casket funeral mane. What the fuck I'm supposed to say to his wife and my goddaughter. It gotta be Choppa hitting back at us. We gone-"

"We ain't doing shit nigga. Don't nobody move until I say so," I made clear.

Benji's nose flared like a raging bull as he stormed towards me. His buff ass had me beat by weight but not height. We stood toe to toe. I see niggas forgot how lethal my hands are. Yeah, I was known for being trigger-happy, but these hands were a different story.

I grew up fighting a crackhead for a father, so I quickly adapted to violence. Especially when the other kids would try to clown me for my clothes and shit. I ignored it at first but when you give bullies an inch, they take a mile. Ignoring their teasing led to them trying to punk me and they learned quickly I didn't fight like the average nigga.

"Who the fuck made you in charge? This was Rico's shit and as his 2nd in command, I'm leading the fucking pack little nigga! You d-"

I hit him with two swift hooks that made his head snap from left to right. Benji was dazed but quickly shook it off. Like I knew he would, he used his weight and tackled me.

He pushed us through the wall, leaving a hole in the drywall. Pussy ass nigga thought I was going to fall easily. He hit me with a couple of body shots but I ate them shits. I elbowed the back of Benji's head until he dropped to his knees. I hit him with a three piece sending blood spewing out of his mouth.

Sending my foot across his face, Benji collapsed on the ground but I was still mad. He fucked up trying to little boy me. "Fuck wrong witchu nigga!" I yelled stomping the nigga out.