•|1 Heartless..
I placed my beats ear bud into my ears, listening to Jay Critch. I was on my way to make my rounds around the block. Dapping up niggas I knew from around the way. As I made my way past some of my stoops, various girls from the neighborhood began ranting and raving trying to catch my attention. But little did they know I wasn't checking for them, or any other hoe for that matter. There was only two women in my life, Mom & lil sis. They were the main reason I hussled the way that I did. They needed out of the projects badly. Around the hood I was known as "Grudge." Think whatever you want, but I was the toughest young nigga to ever hit the streets. I actually got the name from a previous home boy of mine, who was shot killed last year, obviously because I kept and held grudges. Once you fucked up with me, there's no turning around. NO APOLOGIES. NO HASHING IT OUT. NONE OF THAT. I wasn't the one to play with, never will I let a nigga label me as a "Bitch ass nigga."
Stepping up to the trap house, Loud and Mild smoke hit my nose asap. I went around dapping everybody up, before placing the collected money into the safe. I then joined the others who were now playing the game, and Talking shit. I snatched the blunt from bruce's hand as he and Dane shared a heated discussion. Bruce, Dane, Jomo and Frankie been around me since Diaper Days. All of our dad's were actually best friends back in the day. Dane actually helped me get this operation started, the others just joined in recently. Im glad I got these niggas doe, they got my back through whatever.
Jomo: Yo we fina need some more product, G.
Dane: Nah, I got some on the way now, you koo.
Frankie: Nah, what that nigga need is some pussy. (They Laughed, but I didn't.)
Me: No, y'all just need to keep focused on the bread. Hoes only fuck it up.
Jomo: Man if it wasn't even for Jasmine gold digging ass, you wouldn't even feel that way, G.
I hissed hearing that name.
Me: How the fuck would you know? And didn't I say we don't say her fucking name. (Twisting up a blunt.)
Dane: Touchy Much ( He joked in a girly voice, causing them to laugh.) But seriously doe, G you never wana go out pop bottles, see some strippers none of that. You gota move on from that bro.
Frankie: Alls I'm saying is, tonight theres this blow out bash at the Y, I'm talking strippers, bottles on top of bottles.. did I mention strippers? (He campaigned excitingly.)
I sat back taking a pull of the blunt. Taking in everything they just said, which was all so true. Couple months back this chick Jasmine, rode with me two years straight. Then one day I come home, she just up and left leaving nothing behind. Took my stash, some of my product and God only knows what else. Let's just say I vowed to never love or trust a bitch again. Now a days a female was even lucky to see the inside of my ride let alone my crib. I didn't see nor hear these females. But Dane was right, that was last year and I did need to let go.
Me: Aight, I'm a go. But if there's shit I don't like popping off. (Sitting back hitting my blunt.) I'm out.
Them: Koo. We fina shut shit down. ( in unison hype.)
***
(The Party)
-12:30 am.
I guess I did make the right decision. This party was Turnt, strippas was damn there naked walking around with their tops off , and little ass shorts carrying $2 shots. The music was bumping so hard I felt that shit through my chest (lol). Dane and the crew escaped into the large crowd. They was way too hype to be around some bitches for my own good (smh.) On instant I walked up to the V.I.P room, ordering us each a personal bottle and pulling out the already rolled blunts sparking one up.
