My Gain, Is Your Regret by Ashley Williams

Author:Ashley Williams [Williams, Ashley]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Racquel Williams Presents
Published: 2015-11-30T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter 9

Money Over Everything

Dre’Shaun

Being in this industry isn’t easy. I haven’t always had a choice because I had to do what was best for me. Growing up, I lived with both of my parents, and I had four brothers and sisters. My father was a crack addict; I mean, that shit was so bad that he would pawn all of our shit -toys, game systems, and everything else he could pawn. I remember my mother working hard as hell as a waitress, making $2.75 per hour. Hell, most of her money came in tips. Often, she would have to flirt back with drunk ass men in order to make good tips and have pepper spray on her every night that she left work. Our fridge was always empty, but she somehow made a way to feed all five of us.

There were times when my dad would steal money out of her purse, bill money at that, so we would sometimes have to sit in the house without electricity and water until Mama hustled up enough money to pay the bills. It was always like she was picking up where he was lacking, and I despised her for that. What kind of woman would allow her kids to suffer while they put up with a no good ass nigga? Obviously she would.

At the age of fifteen, I couldn’t take that shit anymore, so I left. I hated to leave my siblings in that situation, but when I looked back, I promised I would come back for them, that I would do whatever I had to do in order to make sure they had what they needed. Mysteriously, I had only been gone for few months, laying my head wherever I could, when I saw it on the news. My whole family was burned up in the house while they were sleeping. My daddy had been smoking crack, then lit up a cigarette afterwards, and fell asleep while he was smoking the cigarette. Nobody, I mean not a soul, made it out alive. I was numb, devastated. I cried for my two brothers and two sisters but never for my parents.

At the age of sixteen, I was making records in my homeboy, Dolo’s, house. Dolo was an inspiring rapper, and hell, I could sing and write my ass off, so he let me use his studio to learn how to put shit together. Before you know it, I was mixing up songs and beats, singing that shit, putting it on records, and getting my material out there in the streets. To make a long story short, before you knew it, my shit got into the right hands. People started calling me Dre, and I was the hit maker that signed to Dream Chasing Records, making hits for everybody.

I had been doing my thang for some years and was a young, rich nigga. I had different women every night - Brazilian, European, Asian, Puerto Rican, and mixed girls; hell, any kind of girls that I wanted, I had.

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