Hold Me Down

Chapter Nine | White Girls

Chapter Nine | White

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You know we keep that white girl, Christina Aguilara

My jewelry too loud, home boy, I can't hear ya

I need about 50 of them bricks of the topic

They know we run the streets, man, them boys best stop it

You know we keep that white girl - Young Jeezy

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One Month Later

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Money

I cruised down the street in my Escalade truck with four crates full of pillows in my back seat. I'd just did a pick-up from Russo and now I was headed to distribute the work to each one of the traps. I made sure to drive as normal as possible, because I had a life sentence sitting on my back seat, waiting on me to fuck up or make a wrong move. I was cool though, this wasn't shit I hadn't done before. Moving work had become natural to me by now, so it didn't put any fear in my heart. I was born for this shit and for this shit I was born.

It had been exactly a month since I'd gotten back into the game and everything was going damn good so far for the team. I was bringing in more cash than a little bit and Essence hadn't caught on yet, so everybody was happy. The board still declined us for re-opening the club right now, so I had become quite comfortable with selling drugs once again. It was wrong, but I never said I wanted to be right. And if I did, I must've been high as fuck when I said it because I aint never been right a day in my life after I hit the age of sixteen.

I know, I said I would stop doing this shit for my family before I even got married, but this is the quickest way to get a pay check for me and my family. I could've gotten an easy ass nine to five, but that shit is chump change compared to the money we making and have been making since my pops died. I'd be cheating my damn self as well as my family if I skipped out on the opportunity to get more money to provide for my family. I wasn't about to settle for less when I could be making way more than lousy ass minimum wage. I aint no 9 to 5 type of nigga anyway.

About five minutes passed and I was pulling up to the east side trap house. This side had always been where DJ handled shit, so I stopped here first to fuck with my nigga. I parked my truck in the back, so that it couldn't be seen to the naked eye and got out, grabbing one crate of the five pillows that were filled with white girls. I wasn't fond of white girls, but they made me money, so I was down with the get down. I'd never used the product other than testing it out, and I was sure that I never would. Once you go white, aint shit you could do. Most crack heads die crack heads, only a few shook the monkey and I wasn't trying to be in that situation, so I steered clear of dope.

I stepped up to the door and knocked four times, took a pause, and then knocked on the steel door once again. The slot slid open and once my identity was shown, the door opened up and I was allowed entry into the house. I slapped hands with the security dude and had one of the little niggas take the product to the back to get cooked, cut, and bagged for the streets. We aint have time for the games, so as soon as the shit touched down, we put it to work. I was never making the mistake and holding bricks on me. Your freedom could be taken away within the blink of an eye, if not yours, then someone you love and I aint going through that shit again.

I headed straight for DJ's office and went straight in without even knocking on the door. As soon as I did, I was met with a bright red dot in the middle of my forehead. I smacked my lips and walked all the way in, then closed the door back shut. He placed the gun back on the floor beside him and held his hand out for some dap. This nigga was crazy as hell, which is why I couldn't help but to laugh and slap hands with him. We were two of a damn kind.