Javi was my boy from back when I was a little nigga. He ran with Jersey and me but got locked up when we all had just turned eighteen. He did seven years and came back solid. I never had to question his loyalty, and honestly, the nigga wasn’t wrapped too tight, so it was always better to be with him than against him.
Moe was a down south cat from Memphis I used to run plays with. I never dabbled in selling drugs. I stayed far the fuck away from it because every nigga I saw trapping always got handed the book when their fifteen minutes of fortune was up. I was into moving guns and weapons. Shit was a lot easier and made good paper. Moe got in my fucking head and told me to tap into moving bricks. If it wasn’t for him, I honestly wouldn’t have been where I was and would have still been moving guns throughoutthe country. He gave me that little push, and now I was at the head of the table running a million-dollar operation.
Flipping bricks went against all the shit I used to tell my guys. I now understood why the drug game was so fucking hard to let go: the fucking money.
Diamond and I met when I was fucking with her sister. Diamond was a stud but harder than a lot of these niggas out here. You really couldn’t tell her shit. In her mind, she was convinced she had a dick between her legs and she ain’t bleed every month like every other chick. Her sister, Amina and I fucked around for a while, and shit was serious for the most part, but we were like fire and gasoline when shit wasn’t right between us. She was never a fan of me doing business with her sister; however, Diamond was always on the paper chase. She was loyal, had a good work ethic, and was a sharpshooter.
“I’m ready to tear a nigga limb from limb. Just say the fucking word, blood,” Diamond snarled as she inspected her gun.
She was always on one and wasn’t ducking no smoke. I bypassed her and went toward the crates that were locked up and stocked on the shelves. Although I ventured off into trapping drugs, I never lost the connections I made when I was dealing guns. I had enough fucking artillery to blow the whole fucking city up. I had really been trying to spare niggas because I wanted to uphold the way Priest, Kaymen, and J’Ru did business. It was never war for them because they stamped their territory, and motherfuckas respected that. Now that they were out the way, these same motherfuckas were popping out the woodworks to try their hand at taking me out of my spot at the top.
It had been five years of niggas peeping the scene and watching me. These hating-ass niggas couldn’t take the fact that I was not only maintaining the fucking empire but elevating ittoo. They thought once the guys stepped down, they would’ve finally had the chance to come up, but I took the fucking game by a storm, and it had been all gas no brakes ever since.
Popping the crate with a crowbar, I unloaded the AK-105s I had been sitting on for a while now. To send the message I wanted to send, they were perfect for the occasion.
“You holding out on us, Ahk? When the fuck you had these come in?” Moe came up behind me with a smirk, itching to put his hands on one of the guns.
“Been a few months. I wanted to keep a low profile. Motherfuckas got shit twisted like they think I’m pussy.” I reached into the crate and lifted the gear that had been trafficked all the way from Mexico. Serial numbers were blasted off with a welding machine, so they were completely untraceable.
“You done patty-caking with niggas, I see. Fuck all that strategy bullshit. Blow a nigga head off if he don’t come correct.” Javi chuckled as his eyes filled with darkness. He made his way over and grabbed one of the AKs before marveling at it.
I passed one off to Moe before handing another to Jersey. These AKs had enough power to knock a nigga’s whole chest off.
It had hit three AM by the time we crept up on the block where Silas’ crew was posted. Turned out, the drop Jersey got on them happened to be their main spot and was just a few streets over from our trap. It was a run-down house with three levels that had yellowing newspaper plastered against the windows to keep unwanted eyes out. There were a few niggas kicking it with fat blunts perched between their lips and liquor floating around.
These niggas were celebrating a job well done after running through my spot. I ain’t need a 24-hour turn around for get back. I had been suppressing this shit for so long, now I had to unleash the beast.
We hopped out of the dark tinted truck clutching our AKs. This shit was personal, so we pulled up unmasked. I stepped up to the curb and lifted my gun. Our presence was so thick that it immediately caused their heads to snap in our direction. Eyes were peeled back so wide that it looked like they would pop out their fucking heads.
Off the weed and liquor, the three niggas who were posted up on the porch stumbled while trying to pull out their straps, but they were too fucking late. I squeezed my trigger, and Diamond did the same, blowing these niggas’ heads off. Their bodies hit the wooden porch one after the other, their blood splattering onto my Timbs.
“Pussy-ass niggas.” I spat down on one of their faces.
The commotion and bodies dropping out front caused some movement in the house. Bullets shattered the windows from inside as niggas remained tucked inside shooting back at us. I was seeing red, so I stepped over the bodies and kicked down the door. The sour smell of work being cooked up hit our noses as bullets went flying. I peeped a nigga ducked behind a torn leather couch. He had his arm lifted up as he shot back aimlessly.
Off to the right of me, Jersey shot through the motherfucking couch, dropping ole boy instantly. Their trap was riddled with bullets. We spread out because we knew there were some other niggas inside, ducked off.
I hit the kitchen off the side of the door, and Jersey covered me. A bullet whipped past my ear as a nigga popped out from behind the door of a small pantry closet. I squeezed my trigger and popped him in the fucking chest. Blood pooled out of him as he dropped instantly. He was still alive, but his breathing was shallow as he looked up at me pleading for mercy.
“P-please—“ he croaked as blood began to rush up his throat and out of his mouth.
I stomped my motherfucking Timb boot on his throat, speeding up the fucking process. “Don’t ever think you can get up on me and live another day.” Those were the last words he heard before his body went lifeless.
There was some movement on the upper level’s floor, which Moe, Javi, and Diamond went to go air out. Jersey and I continued to canvas the lower level. As we hit the hall, bullets started flying from a room tucked off in the back. “You pussy-ass niggas finna die!” we heard a rugged voice throat out, accompanied by more shots.
Jersey and I ducked behind the wall, waiting for the opportunity to get a clear shot.
“Come out and catch this heat like a real nigga, pussy-ass bitch! You niggas sent for me and mine! What’s up with it?!” I snarled.
A bold motherfucka’ was always the best to put down. Something about shutting a motherfucka’ up and making them eat all their words satisfied every fucking bone in my body. I heard a door in the hall being pushed open. As gunshots rained upstairs on the upper level, a silence struck on the lower level.
“Face me like a man, pussy!”
I kept my gun aimed at him as he kept his drawn in front of him. “You ran through my shit and thought I wasn’t gonna come back for what’s mine in blood?”
“Nigga, ain’t shit yours. You just happened to dick ride long enough for a nigga to hand you some shit they built from the ground up,” he spat with a disgusted look on his face. I saw him before through passing. His name was Montez, and whenever he saw me, he always had his jaw clenched and chest puffed out but never did nothing about it. Now was his opportunity to stand on all the hating-ass shit he’d said about me.
I chuckled. This was what all this shit was about. Niggas couldn’t fathom the success and respect I garnered for myself.“Yeah? Sound like you on my dick. I hate aI wish it was meass nigga.”
