Backstage: Street Chronicles (4 page)

BOOK: Backstage: Street Chronicles
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As I rode down Broad Street solo with no regards to the law, I felt the same way; you can’t tell me nothing.

I felt like the Feds had created a monster. I was on a straight mission. Shit don’t stop.

Pitching a bitch and living life in these streets
Mad at the world ‘cause certain muthafuckas don’t want me to eat
But I’ma get mine a long time before you get yours
Hate me if you want, but hate me when I’m away on tours
Exploring the world, seeing life from a different view
Shit don’t stop till I say that I’m through

Being the only one in the city with dope had me feeling like I had an
S
on my chest. I was dropping off work like I was saving the day. Look at what I do for my country. Can’t? Don’t tell me you can’t find no dope. Can’t is nowhere in my vocabulary.

After my first shipment, I received fifty keys and made a $150,000 profit. I went out and bought a laundromat for one of my cousins who was straight legit. I had to have somewhere for all
those 120 loads of Tide boxes filled with bricks to be delivered. I studied the boxes like a mad scientist trying to figure out how they sealed it back up. I finally gave up and reached the conclusion the Fam was so connected they got Mr. Duds and Suds himself involved. He one of us.

Everybody around me played a part because after my misfortune I felt a little wiser. Some might say a little too late, but you never too old to learn. The shit that happened to me with the Feds was a learning experience. For example: I had no business picking up my work from Winky. I didn’t need to be around the shit. I could make shit happen. What was I thinking? I was all on the front line. If anything went down, the front was going down first. Aiight!

Ziggy would make it happen for me. Even Scarface had Danny. Nino had G Money. I had Ziggy. They weren’t the best examples, though. What started off good always ended up all fucked up and shit. I was gonna have to kill my nigga in the end. Fuck that shit! I’d been watching too many movies.

I dismissed myself early because I had a meeting with my lawyer. When I arrived at his office, there were two white guys dressed like the men in black waiting for me. What could they want?

My lawyer took me in a conference room with the men in black. We sat around the big table like some big shit was bound to pop off in this meeting. The secretary greeted us all with a bottle of Voss water. She shut the door to give us privacy. My lawyer talked. They discussed their proposition. Then I talked. It’s going down!

I met back up with Ziggy at Kleer Vu, the best soul food spot in Tennessee, to make sure everything was everything with moving the weight. I am my brother’s keeper. Afterward I walked him to his car. As always, he had a bitch in the car. There was something familiar about her so I kept staring like I was on some choose-up shit from a pimp’s point of view. Ziggy thought that I was interested
since I go both ways, he had a dime on his hands, and we had the same tastes. Yeah right! I hate I’m not good at names.

“I know she look good. Quit looking at my bitch!” Ziggy said.

Then it hit me.

“Ain’t nobody looking at yo bitch!” I couldn’t get my words out quick enough. I continued, “Hehehe she the one from the party.” I laughed in between my words. It was Danessa, the dicksucker in the flesh.

“Yeah, I was there,” she said, nodding her head.

“You were there?” I asked. She said it as if she attended a function or helped coordinate it. “Girl you wild,” I added.

She had to know that. I popped my tongue from the roof of my mouth making a noise a horse makes when it walks, hoping Ziggy would catch the hint. Whoa, Kemo Sabe! I know I told him about this ho and what went down at the party. They rode off and I couldn’t wait to see this nigga tomorrow cause she ain’t nuthin. I’m gonna eat his ass alive.

The next day ready to burn him up, she pulled up with him again. Last night was cool ‘cause it was nighttime. It’s hard to see in the dark. Today it is all sunny and bright. Spotlight. Is that what he wants? Is he serious? What is he doing? He’s got to be out of his mind. Nah, he must not remember. He couldn’t have. No way possible. I knew my boy way better than that. He got out to holla at me, then backtracked to the car. He must’ve forgot something. He better not kiss her. He better not. Ooooweeeeee! He handed her his stash of weed and pills to hold. As soon as he caught up with me, I asked, “What you doing with her?”

“That’s my bitch!”

“She ain’t nuthin.”

“You crazy,” he said, sticking up for his bitch. I love Ziggy to death, but he’s a sucker-for-love-ass nigga. I hate that shit. He actually be loving these hoes. “Man, that’s that bitch that ate Gumby up.”

He looked at me like,
And your point is?
“Who ain’t sucking dick? I bet yo mama got a dick in her mouth right now.”

“I’m sure she do, but yo ho gonna eat any and everybody. Fuck everything!”

“You gotdamn right. She fucking me right now, though.”

“Whatever nigga.” If he like it then I love it.

I got ambitions to climb from the bottom
You can get ‘em ‘cause I got ‘em, stack my cash then knot ‘em
By the bundles, never struggle ‘cause I’m keeping my hustle
So watch this bitch as I pull tricks and keep on flexin’ my muscles
So understand that I got plans when it comes to my grand
I’m not a man but I got potential to do all I can
Just to stand on these two feet, don’t give a damn if they hurt
Doing dirt for what it’s worth, yeah I’m passing out work
.

I was on the road doing show after show for six months. Each performance was sold out. Everybody has their time to shine and right then I was the hottest thing going. I got used to my weekends being booked up. What I couldn’t get used to was all the shootings and fights that would occur at my shows. I grew up in the hood and I used to be that one who shut the club down ‘cause I wanted to fight. This was normal for someone like me. What wasn’t normal was when the media tries to make you responsible for the actions of the next drunk muthafucka. How they going to blame me? All I did was jump on stage and do what I do best. Not once did the media or the protesters say anything about the bartender that made that drink for Mr. Act-An-Ass. Those little clubs in those little towns really show their asses. They always want to show out and let it be known they on the map, too. Bumfuck-Egypt we see you!

My love life was shot to hell ‘cause of my work. I didn’t care ‘cause it’s not work when you doing something you love. Kai was on some “You-never-got-time-for-me” mess. I quit explaining and arguing and just said, “You right.” Well she was, and she didn’t like that, either. I gave up.

Bone thinks I had went BIG, but I was still the same person that I was. He wasn’t fooling me, he was just mad ‘cause he expected me to show him a certain kind of love. He wanted the same love shown to me on the price of the dope for him. How? Now I am changing. So I put that song on my ringtone by B.o.B.
They say that I’m changing ‘cause I’m getting famous
. He hate that, too. “When he started acting like that I just separated myself. He’ll come back around. He always do. Right now I got too much going on to be having sex.

“You need to get over here.”

The urgency in Ziggy’s voice told me something wasn’t right.

“You just got here. Now where you going?”

“Are you for real, Kai?” Asking me some crazy shit like that. She went mute. She knew better. That question might cost her. I’m subject not to come home.

I got to the laundromat and the back room was filled with boxes of Tide. A regular day on the job. Five boxes were emptied on the floor. A pile of laundry detergent. Why the mess?

“What’s up, Ziggy?”

“I opened up five boxes and they’re empty.”

“Huh?”

“Nothing ain’t in these. I didn’t want to open any more.”

I picked the other ones up and they didn’t feel like nothing was in them. I shook up a few and opened up two just to see for myself. I examined the other ones just like I did the first time to see if it’s a shuck. No shuck. A simple mistake. One phone call will fix all of this.

I reached in my black Gucci backpack and looked on the back of the phones until I found the one with the letter
W
for Wes. I had so many phones and the prepaid ones all looked the same. This line was just for me and him. I dialed him.

“Yeah?”

“You sent the wrong boxes.”

“Huh?”

Humph!
He sounds like me. “These are all empty.”

“Empty?” His tone changed. “Look, homegirl. I don’t know what kind of game you playing, but me and my peeps don’t play like that. That truck that delivered your shit came all the way from Florida. It didn’t just stop at you. How everybody else shit that made it is good? You the only one calling with some ‘it’s empty.’ You got sixty bricks. That’s what it is.”

Basically he was telling me I had to pay for something I never received. He sounded like a fool. It wasn’t April so squash the April Fool’s joke. Ashton Kutcher plays all the time, but this is too Mafia for TV …

“I ain’t paying for something I didn’t get.”

“I know what we sent.”

“I only touched seven. The others still sitting here. Come up here and see.”

“I ain’t getting on no plane to come there and look at some Tide boxes they sell at the store. Silly-ass broad.”

“Let me call you back.” I didn’t know what else to do. I thought about what he said. “Tide boxes they sell at the store.” Somebody switched them. It was that simple. I looked at Ziggy, who I had known since we were in the third grade. I hated to even consider that. There was nothing sheisty about us. We didn’t believe in that; besides, he was with me. He wouldn’t do no shit like that. He eating too good to bite the hand that feeds him. He wouldn’t jeopardize our connect. Besides, he know these boys were not playing.

I had him take me step-by-step through what happened when he came inside. Me and Ziggy. My army. How we gonna go to war? It’s not us playing and it’s not them. Who was it then? I got back on the phone.

“How well do you know the driver?”

“What?” Wes was not being reasonable.

“Is there a possibility the driver could have switched it?”

“No.”

“Are you one-hundred-percent sure?”

“Yeah.”

“How you know that?”

“It’s my uncle. That’s how I know.”

“Oh.” I hung up but I didn’t think that meant anything. I got an uncle who smokes much dope and will steal from you in a minute.

The only ones with a key to this place are Ziggy, my cousin who knows nothing about my drug business, and me. Ziggy’s whereabouts were accounted for ‘cause when he wasn’t with me he was doing something for me. There was no way. It was on their end. What was I going to do?

You can’t trust nobody. Somebody did this and now I am responsible for the bill. I wanted to catch a flight to Miami since Wes wouldn’t come here but I felt that if I did there was a strong possibility I wouldn’t be coming back. I had to think of something to make this right.

I wasted two days trying to think of what could have happened. I called Wes with all my theories and he didn’t want to hear none of them. I didn’t want to get out of bed. I thought if I slept the bad dream would go away ‘cause you control your dreams. I knew I had to do something. I didn’t know what these muthafuckas would do and when.

Ziggy was banging on my door. I got up to let him in.

“Get up, bitch!”

“For what?”

He handed me a lit blunt for breakfast.

“I don’t know if I want that stank breath to touch my blunt. Your breath smell like it fertilized this dodie we smoking.”

I hit the blunt, stank breath and all.

“How much you got?” he asked.

That is not nothing you tell. From the attire to the rides to the
crib, the picture may look one way, but it’s always another. He shook off his question since he knew he wasn’t going to get an answer.

“Yummie, I got three hundred thousand. I don’t know what our bill is and I know that my little three is not going to get it, but do you got something to donate to the pot to pay these niggas so we can keep this shit going? Yeah, they wiping me out but it’s a bigger picture. Shit don’t stop. Somebody got that shit and we gonna get cut off trying to solve a case where the pieces are not adding up.”

“But we—”

He cut me off in midsentence. “Look, man. This is what I do. You rap. You got a life ahead of you. This all I know. This like Dr. Dre coming to you and willing to back you up all the way. You can’t go wrong. How you gonna go wrong? This how I feel about this shit. Gimme my blunt and go take a bath, bitch!”

The water rejuvenated my spirit and mind. I felt like a new person. Or was it the blunt? Regardless, I had a plan. I was stuck between giving Wes everything we had or flipping what we had. I had to do something.

As I was drying off, Ziggy stuck his head in the bathroom. “You know your boy got some work.”

“Who?”

“Bone.”

Bone kept work but he couldn’t serve us, but whatever he got I was going to get it. Something is better than nothing. I got ready to call Bone but had to think of what I was going to say. Our last episode wasn’t nice. I smiled thinking of his last comment. “You gonna need me before I need you.” What can I say other than he was right?

“You want your props?” I said to him on the phone.

“Who is this?” Now he don’t know my voice. “What you want, man? My props for what?” he asked.

“You were right. I need you, baby.”

“You don’t need me, remember?”

“Yes I do. I miss me some Bone.”

“What you miss?”

“I miss how you stick that dick in me and pull it out and stick it back in my mouth. That’s what I miss. Can I come home? Hold on.” I put the phone by my pussy and stuck my finger inside of me.
Umph!
Her slurping noise told him she missed him, too. “You hear her?”

“Yeah I hear her.”

“Can I come get me some D?”

“Huh?” If you can huh, you can hear. Yeah my pussy was wet but did I mean dope or dick? Both. I miss fucking that nigga. He know it. “Can I come get me some dick?”

BOOK: Backstage: Street Chronicles
11.52Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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