2 Ways 2 Hustle: Which Way Do You Go? by Shys Debiocci

Author:Shys Debiocci [Debiocci, Shys]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: Urban, Biographies & Memoirs, Ethnic & National, United States, African-American & Black, African American, Genre Fiction, Literature & Fiction
Amazon: B00TQET3NG
Publisher: I AM PRODUCTION
Published: 2015-02-17T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter 15

City of Violence

I been hustlin’ for 3 months and I’ve made a lot of money, but my minds been fuckin wit me also. You can call it what you want, but I need some action where it’s beef or going in one of those pussy ass nigga’s pockets. I swear the devil must’ve heard me because shit was hours away from poppin’ off.

I bought my wife to be a brand new Mercedes. It was pecan and white and the inside was peanut butter when first seen it. So I just put a system in and I got a laptop installed so she can travel with her computer. Shit she deserve it because she supposed to be graduating in a couple months and she need something new other than her little Camry to stunt with.

After I got a big ass bow on the bitch I parked the car over my Aunt’s house til’ later that night. I had Streak follow me in my Crown Vic and I later dropped him off on the hill.

I thought about going ova the way to visit my cuzins Marcus and Dana, but I didn’t. I drove to Newport and copped some Remy and headed back to tha Jets. I picked up big bro and we rode through the hood sippin’ Remy. We drove to the bottom of the Jets then drove down Garrad St. going towards 13th, drove through beatin’ that Bun B and Pimp C ‘Let me See’. Then we came back around tha block down Byrd St and hit a right on Garrad and parked on Garrad and Lynexx, the new name we called the intersecting street.

We kicked it with my sista and Chocolate and her otha sistas and the rest of the hood niggas we knew. We stayed for about 30 minutes then we went back up tha street to tha Jets. It was 7:30pm, as usual everybody was out choppin’ it up, listening to the car system, laughin and smackin licks. 7:40 still chillin, laughin and cappin on niggas. When 7:49 hit shit got crazy. It was like the inner me or like a 5 percenter would say, the ‘God in me’ told me something was about to jump off and it did.

Niggas started comin’ from everywhere with guns drawn, but they was sparkin. Everybody runnin’ and yellin’ tryna get away. Mafuccas was caught off guard. Tha niggas that were shootin’ was yellin’ don’t run now niggas like they were talkin to someone in particular. My main thing was tryna get those kids out of danger, but I couldn’t save them. Bullets was flyin everywhere and niggas wasn’t tryna get hit. It was crazy. Niggas couldn’t pull their guns because bullets was flyin and your first instinct was to get out of danger. After I took as many kids as possible around the corner on foot I came back wit’ the tech spittin’. Niggas started scattering. It was a few other niggas letting it loose too. All of a sudden sirens was being heard and gun shots wasn’t.

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