THIRTY

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Stevie walked around Rell's dimly lit apartment beaming with excitement.

"Nigga, sit down," Rell said lighting their fourth blunt of the night, "You're making me nervous."

"Tonight, the kingdom is returning to its rightful owner."

"Long live the king," Rel said laughing.

"The job ain't done yet while ya'll niggas is all kicks and giggles," Sanchez snapped, "We need to focus."

"You scared, Sanchez?" Stevie asked laughing.

"Get the fuck outta here," Sanchez said inhaling the dark cloud of smoke, "It ain't about being scared. I'm just ready to do this shit. We sitting around here like it's a fucking pep rally or something. A nigga is ready to rock, B."

"Say that shit then, nigga," Stevie said grabbing the blunt from Sanchez , "By this time tomorrow, shit will be how it should have been from jump."

$$$$$

After picking up SAS at 11:00 p.m., Scrapp finally made his way to club Envy. Tommie's concerns consumed him, but he refused to let her destroy SAS's night.

"You good, Scrapp?" he asked breaking up a red E-pill.

"Yeah, I'm good. That pill hit me the wrong way. I'll be cool once we get inside."

Trying to shake the thoughts from his mind, Scrapp pulled into a private parking garage right beside a white Bugatti. SAS hopped out to admire the rare car.

"Blood, whoever copped this is killing niggas right now. I've never seen this outside of magazines and shit, let alone in Atlanta." He walked around the Bugatti and peered through the smoky tinted windows.

"It's alright."

"Alright? Come on, nigga. Who you know got anything that even comes close to this? This nigga right here got dough. It cost $2 million at least."

Scrapp glanced at the car and wanted to tell SAS that it was all his, but he wanted it to be a surprise.

"Nigga, let's go before somebody sees you being a groupie," he laughed.

"For that right there, I'll be that."

After exiting the parking structure, SAS and Scrapp ran into a sea of people. The line was wrapped around the block. The guest list was already over capacity at five-hundred and fifty, but there was at least double that trying to all get in.

"Man, you would have thought a nigga was Chris Brown or something," SAS said observing the crowd, "I don't know half of these mothafuckas."

"You know anything with Da Razkalz name on it is always gonna shut shit down."

Five police cars circled the streets hoping to keep the event in order. Sirens blared in an attempt to keep people in order.

SAS and Scrapp pushed their way through the crowd to reach the front while everybody else was getting patted down by security. SAS  felt like a rock star. He knew his name rang heavy in the streets, but he never expected a turn out that big.

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