Blood is thicker than water- a phrase many have heard and implemented in their everyday lives. For the Knighton brothers, it was more than just a phrase. For them it was a motto, their creed. It meant that nobody, friend or love interest, was above...
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Weakness was one thing I never showed, and that's why no one could fuck with me. It didn't matter if it was me against one or me against ten— I always found a way to come out on top. I'd stared death in the face on many occasions but I never folded. I wasn't afraid to die and niggas around here knew it. A target had been on my back since birth, but I still walked around comfortably in my city— I didn't fear a fucking soul. There were plenty of times when I got caught lacking and niggas had the upper hand— the chance to rise to the occasion and take me out of the game, but it never went down like that. I had a dude to drop his gun and take off down the street once, just because he didn't wanna be responsible for my death. Niggas feared me even when I was on the other side of the gun and they could never put me in the dirt like they'd intended.
I was the complete opposite. I didn't give a damn about your status or your name in the streets. If I wanted you dead then I'd body you where you stood— regardless of the time or place. I'd shot niggas in broad daylight and didn't bat an eyelash when I did it. I wasn't the type of thug who would boast about my murder rep or bust my gun when it wasn't necessary. The niggas I ran with described me as a quiet threat, but that's why I was so dangerous. I was a ruthless killer and I'd spill blood from man, woman or child— didn't matter to me. I had more bodies on me than a cemetery and anywhere I stepped out, murder and pain were soon to follow. I'd caught my first body when I was only thirteen and after that, killing came easy to me. Hell, the only talent I had was killing and my murderous reputation was a dead giveaway.
I'd just left a mandatory meeting with Kendrick and my orders were plain and simple— light up one of Tommy's trap houses.
Unbeknownst to Ken, I was gonna do a little more than that, for reasons of my own. I found out that it was Tommy's other brother, Tevin, who'd run up on this bitch I was smashing not too long ago— that was all the information I needed. The nigga had a whole slew of siblings and I was planning to kill off each and every one of them— one by one.
"Aye, peep." Joey tapped my shoulder as we sat on the corner of Whiterock Avenue in his black Yukon.
It was getting late and we watched as people went in and out of the old, dilapidated building. I spotted Tommy's little sister, Neesha, coming out of the trap house in some tiny shorts with her asscheeks falling out of the bottom. I'd admit that ole girl had a fat ass and a banging body to match, but she was butt-ugly in the face. The fact that niggas still tapped that disgusted me. I'd have to put a bag over her head before anything could even go down. We watched as she hopped in her Ford Taurus and peeled off around the corner.
"Follow dat bitch." I told Joey and he quickly put the car in drive, speeding to catch up with her. We caught her at a traffic light and allowed two cars to merge over in front of us to avoid being detected.
