April 23, 2018
Dave raw lyrics plays around the studio as he draws the joint to his mouth and inhaling the smoke into lungs. He holds the thick smoke for a few seconds before releasing from his nose and mouth that's slightly open. He holds his phone that showcasing the notepad on his iPhone of the bars he typed down. An alert from Instagram pops up on top of his screen; Shanteylede started a live video. Watch it before it ends! He shakes his head knowing it was about to be the no-filtered Shantey and not the one that's been silent for a month now.
"Yo baby-mama on live, yo!" Dave's longtime friend, Shooter, announces from across the studio while sitting slouched on the couch.
Sitting beside Shooter is his cousin Errol. He leans over and staring at the video. "She lookin' mad good, too, East."
Dave ignores them, not entertaining the fact the mother of his son was spending her precious time on live. He proceeds to smoke and rap his lyrics lowly to beat, but couldn't help hearing Shantey's voice through Shooter's iPhone.
"I'ma eat my chicken while I gather you pie face hoes," she clicks her tongue, "y'all been coming for me mad hard lately from day to night, it's pathetic. I been tryna stay quiet but you hoes and bum niggas just continue to at me every time Shaderoom post a picture. It don't even be my own child but you mufuckas under the comments on some 'Shantey can learn from her' or 'Teach Shantey' and allat bullshit as if my son's ain't taken care of. Most you foul mouth hoes don't even gotcha fuckin' kids either. Child all in DHS custody, but got some nerve to come for me. Unlike you hoes, my child is with his Father. Sumthin you hoes don't know the meaning if cause they ghost, honey."
She pauses for a second before continuing, "You right, I do have two baby father's love. But the difference is I got mad history with mines. You hoes get pregnant only a week after meeting a nigga and spending the whole nine months to get to know the nigga. Fuck you mean?"
Dave found himself choking on the smoke in his mouth from laughing at her words along with Shooter and Errol. He stands to his feet, patting his chest as he continued coughing. Once he get it under control, he clears his throat. "Oh shit," he coughs a bit more, "almost choked, man."
Shooter laughs saying, "Man, she goin in, word to mommy."
Shantey finishes laughing herself and says, "I know my cousin gone be on my ass about this live but it's only so much bashing and degrading a person can take. My fans know me. I'm not one to stay quiet as long as I did. So be thankful. Both my son's good, fuck you mean? One just not with me but I know he straight."
"I gotta bug her ass right now." Shooter chuckles as he types along his screen.
"She gone be cussin' yo ass out, too." Errol comments as Shooter shrugged and sends what he typed.
"Shooter... boy, fuck you." Shooter immediately laughs. "I'm finna hop off here cause the Opp got his fam watching. My EP will be released soon. Be on the lookout."
Dave face frowns before he asks, "hol' up, who she callin a Opp?"
"She talkin' bout you, yo." Shooter points at him, laughing.
"Opp, fuck outta hea."
"Ion' even know why y'all stop fuckin' with each other. Shantey fine and hood. Ain't nothin' better than a fine ghetto chick, son."
"You know why, the mufuckas rather fight and fuck." Errol comments, scrolling on her phone. "Mad toxicity."
"Short ass did used to beat yo ass," Shooter laughs as Dave side eyes him. "It's facts. Have y'all saw each other since the Summer Jam in Atlanta last year?"
Shaking his head, Dave releases smoke from his mouth. "Naw, I ain't seen her in person at all."
"That's wild. Whatchu think it's finna be like when y'all face to face?"
"Drama," Errol answers before Dave could. "She gone bug the fuck out. I can already see it now."
"Looks deceiving, my nigga. Swear to God when I first met shorty, I thought she was finna be this shy female–"
"Yo dumb ass quickly realized that ain't the case." Shooter cuts in, breaking into laughter as Dave did the same. "When y'all even go sour, fam?"
"Shit, me and shorty never really had no 'perfect' type situation. We always bumped heads since before we even start smashin'. One thing led to another one night and shit..." he trails off, not really having to continue.
"Both yo' baby-moms be on other shit. One a Opp and the other one just mad crazy." Shooter shakes his head. "You the reason ion' have kids. Ion' got the time nor the patience for dumb mess, yo comin' at me wit this, that, and the third. Fuck that shit."
Errol laughs, "fam just called yo baby-moms a Opp."
"It's facts," Shooter shrugs. "Be honest doe, you baggin' Shantey once you see her?"
Dave shakes his head no. "I'm not on that."
"Shiiittt, you better than me. I'd pick her small ass up and thrash shit, fuck you talkin bout?" Shooter starts thrusting his hips while smacking his hands on his pants.
Errol laughs, shaking his head. "You fuckin' stupid, B."
"She gotta sista? Waddup?"
"Two. She ion' fuck em doe." Dave informs, putting out the joint in the ashtray.
"And, nigga. They fine?"
"One married and the other one mad triflin', grimy. She da type to rob yo' ass, facts."
"Send the married one my way then. I ain't fuckin' wit the otha one cause I'll have to," he punches his fist into his other hand. "Facts, yo."
"Shorty actually comin' into town tomorrow to be wit Cru."
"Who? Her sista?"
"Why would ha sista come be wit him?" Dave shakes his head, "naw, she never even met him. Shantey comin."
"Oh yeah, she is on dat supervised visits shits huh?" Errol questions, causing Dave to nod.
"We goin to club after dis? Get some bitches."
"Naw, I gotta do dis podcast interview on Easily Offended."
"Word? I'm taggin' along. That nigga Mook fuckin' hilarious."
"I'll be on there mad long. Two hours, fam."
"Shit, we get some food on the way and I'm good." Shooter shrugs as they cracked small laughter.
Studio door opens and a woman with milk chocolate skin and a honey blonde lace front walks in; the woman being his assistant Demetria.
"Ride outside."
Dave nods as Shooter walks towards Demetria, biting his lip and rubbing his hands together. "Wass good wit you, Dede?"
"Shooter, bye." She turns around, smacking her hair in his face as she walks out the studio.
Dave and Errol laughs as Shooter says, "I oughta snatch that shit off."
"You got played, B." Dave pats his shoulder before leaving the studio.
They all gathers into the Mercedes sprinter and heads to the location. He sits in the seat when his phone rings. Raising up slightly, he grabs his iPhone and his mother calling to FaceTime. He accepts and when it connects, both his kids faces takes over the screen.
"Hi Dada," Cruz speaks first, waving his hand.
"Noo, I talk first." Kairi frowns, taking the phone. "Hi, Dada."
"Noo," Cruz whines, reaching for the phone but his sister moves over. "Gimme!"
Dave chuckles lightly, "Aye, why y'all buggin'?"
They start scuffling over the phone before he hears his mother say, "Give me the phone. Now neither one of y'all have it."
"Why they buggin right now?" Dave asks when his mother's face takes over the screen.
"Cruz hid one of her toys and she did the same. So now they got attitudes."
"Don't be lettin' em fight and allat. That's not coo."
"I'm not," Francesca assured him. "Shantey called. She's here a day earlier."
"And? She don't get em until the mornin while you there."
"That's what I told her. But of course, she went off. She's really unpredictable David. You need to be careful while she's here."
Dave immediately laughs, "I'm not scared of shorty. She know the real on why she ain't got my son. She put herself through that. Ion' give a fuck what she on."
"I'm just saying. Does she have your number?"
"Not dat I know of."
Francesca nods. They finish their call before hanging up. They pull up to the building shortly after and all got out the sprinter. They all ride the elevator up to the floor. Dave walks off as his phone vibrates in the pocket of his joggers. Removing it, he sees a text from an unsaved number. By the text, he knows exactly who it's from.
Dave chuckles and Errol the message, that's right beside him. Errol shakes and says, "she gone punch on you when she see you. I already know."
Dave fans his hand and says, "I ain't worried, B." he locks his phone and stuff his phone back in his pocket when one of the host Mook, introduces him.
"Let's welcome Harlem's very own, my mans, Dave East." Claps takes over the room as Dave walks over and exchange folds and a brief hug with all three men before he sits in the seat beside Biz. "Naw, let's give another clap for my boy, man."
Claps continue once again, and Dave joins in on the applause.
"Congrats on your Paranoia 2 release and the tour. You just got back right?"
"Back in January, yeah," Dave responds with a nod.
"With the tour and making music, how did you juggle those two and fatherhood?" Matt questions.
"My moms and my team was a big help, feel me? When my daughter was wit her moms, I had my son cause I got him full time. Tour was more than just performin'. You got soundcheck, radio interviews, meet and greets, allat shit. But even in the mix of dat, my son was there kickin' back wit his G-ma. I perform, he in the dressing room knocked." Dave says, causing them to crack laughter. "But for the most part, I worked it out. Dis music shit make my bread but my kids gone always come first. I made sure he was straight before anything."
"What about the tour bus? Was he on there wit you?"
"Naw," Dave shakes his head, "not at all. For one reason only, we smoke heavy. So, I fly my moms and him to the next city a couple hours before. Plus he grumpy as fuck when he sleepy. He ion' wanna hear no talkin', no laughin'. When he ready to lay down, it better be dark with the cartoons on silent or it's over."
"Oh, he be goin' in on everybody?" Mook questioned.
"Goin' in, B. I'm tellin' you."
"Ok, now you know news travels fast," Mook says as Dave fills his phone vibrating in his pocket; he ignores it. "Yo BM, or mother of ya son, went live on Instagram goin' in on trolls that's degrading her motherhood. What's yo opinion on that?"
"I mean," he pauses, rubbing over his beard, "I knew it was comin'. I knew she wasn't gon' stay quiet for long cause that ain't her. She ain't got no filter. She gon' say what she gone say and you take it or leave it, but she gon' keep it pushin'. That's just her. Now, as far as mufuckas attacking her motherhood, ion' really have no opinion on that cause at the end of the day, mufuckas gon' only comment based off what you allowin' em to see or whatchu showin' em."
"That's true," Biz nods in agreement. "Trolls on Instagram not finna dig for no facts or backstory."
"Facts. You repeat the same cycle and stories gettin' out there for the blogs, of course mufuckas gone talk mad heavy on you."
Mook nods before asking, "Y'all go way back? Or she just a chick you met in the industry and smashed?"
"Naw, me and shorty go way back," he nods, "I met her when I still ballin. My mans is her cousin and we played on the same amateur league mad years ago. I ran into at a game we had in Cali. His fam had came through and I saw her."
"Was it the instant connection type of thing?" Matt asked.
"Naw, we actually ain't get along. We bumped heads all the time. Prolly cause we too much alike. We both ain't got no filtered at all. But that to me was attractive in a good and bad way."
"Breakdown the good and bad." Biz says, sipping on his drink.
"Bad cause it was toxic. We bumpin' heads dumb crazy. Good cause shit.. it was good." He nods as he smiled and licked his lips.
"Nigga talkin' bout the sex. We ain't stupid, fam." Mook calls out causing the room to break out in laughter.
"Aye, that's part of it."
"I already know cause she how tall?"
Dave looks off to the side in thought for a second. "Bout five one, five two."
"And you what, six five?" Mook questions, getting a nod from Dave. "Right, so shorty stoppin' right above the right areas am I right?"
With furrowed brows, Dave looks confused for a second before he realizes what Mook was referring to and start laughing with his hands on his hat.
"Yo, you fuckin' ill," he continues laughing, "How y'all work wit dis man?"
"We have no idea," Matt replies through his laughter.
"Put it on the table tho," Biz starts to say, "If you had to choose between which one of yo baby moms put it down the best, which one you choosin?"
"Woow," Dave chuckles, "You say the best?"
"As in pussy straight fire?"
"Oh man, I'ma need a drink for dis shit."
He leans forward, grabbing the liquor and pouring some in his cup.
"Damn," he chuckles, rubbing his beard. "I'ma keep it a buck. They both neck and neck. I'ma tell you why. I'm finna be twenty-nine, fucked plenty of females, but outta all of them the only two that got my kids is them two. So, they was both doin' sumthin right for me to not pullout, feel me? They two different people and fuck in they own way that I definitely enjoyed. So I'ma give it to boffum."
"Respect, respect," Mook stands and exchanges folds with Dave.
"It's all facts." Dave shrugged as he leaned back into the chair.
"Do you ever see you and her reconciling?" Matt asks Dave.
"Uh," he leans back touching his hat, "naw."
He continues saying, "I mean, right now, ion' see it cause we in a bad place. I ain't saw shorty in mad long, bout to be a year soon. I can't speak for whatever happens in the future or whatever."
"Word," Mook nods his head. "But let's get on dis single you got wit Tory Lanez."
"Yup, Woke Up. Go cop dat right now."
"Matter fact, let's play that right now."
The songs starts playing and all four men listened intently. Dave even start rapping along with his verse.
"I fucks wit that," Mook nods, exchanging folds with Dave.
"Preciate it," Dave says as his phone vibrates again. He finally decides to pull out his phone when they start bringing up a shot game to play.
Staring down at his phone screen, he reads the new texts from Shantey...
He chuckled, shaking his head and replied to her.
He locked his phone, and put his attention back his interview.
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Definitely more to the story pertaining Dave and Shantey. But thoughts on his point of view? 🤔