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Chantel took off from off the baseball field and made it back towards the parking lot. She quickly got us out of there. I looked back and Quan was busting his gun along with two other niggas. That’s why it felt like more than one nigga was shooting at me.
“Fuccckkkk!!” I screamed, as I held my shoulder in pain.
That shit burned like a motha fucka. While I was running, all of my adrenaline was pumping, so I didn’t feel when the bullet pierced my skin, but now I was feeling every damn thing and that shit hurt like a bitch.
“Which way do you want me to go?” Chantel asked once the gun fire had ceased.
“Just keep going straight. I want to get at least twenty miles away, so we can get to a motel or something,” I said.
“What about your shoulder? You’re going to bleed to death,” she told me.
I grunted and waved her off.
“We can’t stay in the area, man. Ain’t no telling where these niggas at.”
After driving around for about two hours, we made our way to Naples, Florida. I had a spare shirt in the back of the car, so I went and tied it around my shoulder and another one on my thigh. I was still in pain, but not nearly as much as I was in before. We pulled up to a motel called Sea Shell motel and Chantel parked the car.
“Reach in that duffle bag and take out a hundred. Go pay for us a room,” I said.
She took a hundred-dollar bill out and exited the car. Again, the thought of leaving her ass ran through my mind, but I knew it was no way that I would be able to get around with my shoulder fucked up like this. As she was inside handling the reservations and shit, I opened the bag and scanned through the money with a big smile on my face. It was dark inside the car, but I could still see the amount of hundred-dollar bills that lay neatly wrapped inside the bag.
I closed the bag back up and watched as Chantel came back to the car with a pissed off look on her face. I wondered what the fuck her problem was. I also noticed that she still had the same hundred-dollar bill in her hand that she left out of the car with.
She opened the car door, got in and slammed it. Throwing her head back on the head rest, she let out a pissed off sigh.
“What the fuck is wrong with you, girl? Did you get the room or what?” I asked her, not in the mood for her fuckin’ mood swings.
“He fuckin’ played us, Tracy,” she said, never turning her head to look in my direction.
“Fuck you mean he played us? The fuckin’ money is right here! What are you talking about?” I asked her.
“Yeah, the money is right here, but it’s fuckin fake,” she snapped.
I reached up with my good shoulder and turned the light on in the car.
“I went inside, and when it was time to pay, they wouldn’t take the hundred-dollar bill because they said that it wasn’t legit. He did all the fuckin’ tricks to find out if the shit was legit or not. He looked for the holograph of the face on the bill, the watermark, and the security thread. The shit is fake, Tracy, because I did the shit myself after him,” Chantel said.
“Hold on, maybe it was just that one. Let me see something.”
I went into the bag and pulled out a stack of money, neatly wrapped with a rubber band. I popped the rubber band, handed Chantel a few bills and kept a few for myself. I held one of the bills up, and sure enough, this shit was indeed fake as fuck. Number one, instead of Benjamin Franklin being on the hundred-dollar bill, it was Abraham Lincoln. He really did get our asses with this one.
“Why the fuck wouldn’t you check the money before you handed him over his fuckin’ daughter?” Chantel cried.
“Oh, bitch, shut the fuck up! Did you check the damn money when I sent your ass inside to pay? No! So, shut the fuck up with that bullshit,” I barked at her.
I don’t know where the fuck we were going to go from here because this incident was a lesson learned for both Quan and Charlie. Ain’t no way in hell we would ever be given the opportunity again to take their daughter again because now they would be extra careful with her. Fuck, man! Back to square one!
Chapter 7: Quan
Did this clown really in his right mind think that I would just easily hand over one million dollars like it was nothing? Yeah, in his mind, a million dollars may be nothing to me, but when you’re a ghetto nigga like myself who came from nothing, a million dollars is everything. I keep telling these clowns that I would never forget where I came from, and I damn sure wasn’t about to just give up a million dollars that easily.
I know you’re probably wondering, where the hell did Quan get this fake ass money from? Like I mentioned, I’m still sort of wet behind the ears when it came to this rapping shit, so I still had a bit of some ghetto ass tendencies. For instance, if I’m shooting a music video, I’m not about to have my fuckin’ money getting thrown around and showing my shit off, hell no. So, when we shot my music video a few months ago, titled “The Money Man,” it was my idea to use fake money. Call it cheap, or call me broke, but I was not about to be bullshitting around with my real money for a damn music video. The niggas on set clowned me for that shit, but in my opinion, the shit was pretty smart. At the end of the day, it had worked out in my favor.
I just wished that I was around to see the look on this nigga’s face once he found out that bag full of money that he thought was about to change his life wasn’t really legit. Had I not come up with the idea of using fake money on my music video, lord only knows how I would have gotten myself out of this situation because a nigga like me was stingy as hell with my money if it didn’t benefit me, my wife or my daughter.
I’m not going to lie, me and my niggas went out like some real motha fuckin Gs the way we went to work tonight on them guns. I knew we didn’t kill him, but hell, the nigga’s spirit was dead since he didn’t get what he came for, so that was enough for me. This is what the fuck happens when soft ass little boys try to play a grown man’s game.
We were now sitting in the parking lot of McDonalds. I had my daughter on my lap and she wouldn’t let go of me for shit. I was very fuckin’ grateful that God had allowed me to get my daughter back tonight safe and in one piece. God damn, I couldn’t wait to get my ass in the damn studio tomorrow and work on this diss track. I had so much shit up my sleeve. I knew my daughter knew something, but I wasn’t about to bother her with the events that took place tonight. But best believe, tomorrow morning, I wanted answers to every fuckin’ thing that went down.
