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Thread: Sympathy for the Devil.

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    G.O.A.T. Soapy's Avatar

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    Sympathy for the Devil.

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    "I've been robbing motherfuckers since the slave ships with the same clip and the same four-five. Two point-blank, a motherfucker's sure to die"

    The music blasted from Trey's car as every person that walked by gave him the death stare. He didn't mind, hell, he wanted them to look at him that way. Trey leaned back against his seat, mouthing the lyrics of the lyrical genius Christopher Wallace. Ace finally stepped outside of the gas station store, bobbing his head in approval to the song selection.

    "Biggie will always be that nigga man," Ace said as he opened the car door and took a seat in the passenger side.

    "You got the black?" Trey asked as he pulled out to the parking lot and onto road.

    "Calm down nigga," Ace said as he pulled out a pack of Black & Mild and handed it to Trey, "I don't know why you ask me to go buy some when we got at least an ounce in the back,"

    Trey simply shook his head and decided not to even respond to Ace's comment. He loved weed, everything about it. Growing it, the different type of strands, the smell and most of all, smoking it but he understood that weed was also a business, his business. The first week he tried serving weed, he ended up losing money since he smoked half of it. Now, outside of the occasional wake and bake, he stuck to cigarettes and milds to satisfy his cravings, with a bit of alcohol thrown into the mix.

    "We gonna flip this shit for at least fifty tonight," Trey finally broke the silence, "Ultra coming around the corner man. Gotta start saving up,"

    "You still gonna try to make bank from that shit?" Ace shook his head as he lit one of the milds, "First of all, if we even get some molly's to push, how much profit we talking about? I say we stick to our little dime and ounce game we got going,"

    "You think all them white girls even know what a good price for one pill is? We charging double. Fuck that, triple nigga! You got to think big, that's the problem with us niggas. We just wanna look for the quick gain and not think about the big picture."

    Ace decided to give up the argument, realizing that Trey was the real brain behind their operation and always had been. They've known each other since they were little and while Ace had the looks and the charm, it was always Trey that was the brains, plotting out their moves. It was Trey's idea to instead of just smoking the ounce of weed they were buying seemingly every week, they'd sell a couple dime bags here and there. Dimes eventually turned into ounces and Rico, their plug, cut them into his deal, fronting them several ounces at a time.

    Trey turned the music down as they reached their destination, careful not to tip off his entrance. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and texted Candace that he was outside as he parked one block away from her house. The last time Candace's parents saw him he was half-naked in their daughter's room, ass bare. They had always disapproved of their relationship but that was the last draw, as they threatened to call the cops if they ever saw him near their house again. Trey and Candace had been dating for a while now and even though Trey knew that most of her attraction towards him was born out of rebellion, he didn't mind. There weren't a lot of girls at South Central that looked like Candace.

    The brown-haired, hour-glass figure appeared from the street corner and started walking towards their car. Ace did the gentlemen thing and got out of the car to move to the backseat as Candace got into the car.

    "Hey babe," she said as they kissed, waving her fingers at Ace to acknowledge his presence, "Hopefully Jay's party isn't as lame as last weekends's,"

    "It's Jay," Trey reassured her, "His shits are always popping and believe me, we're going to get everybody lit tonight,"

    ..........................

    Sean found himself lost in a daze as he stared at it, examining every inch of her body. He sat on the edge of the table, hoping by some chance her eyes would stray away from her friends and land on him. It was bad enough that he had to deal with his lusting of her at school, but now he had to watch her get preyed and stalked on by every guy in the party as she don some tight-fitting short jeans, emphasizing her every curves.

    "You're just going to stare or are you going to finally talk to that girl?" Dwayne finally brought him back into the world, realizing that he had spent the last minute or two just staring at her.

    "She's got like every guy around her already," he responded, scared to even think about talking to her.

    "Worst case scenario she says no," his friend tried to pumped him up, "If the conversation gets awkward or bad, just like touch your nose or something and I'll come save it,"

    "Touch my nose? You are a terrible person, you know that? Like on a scale of Hitler to Ghandi, you're pretty fucking close to the middle," he joked, trying to get the conversation off of him and his success with women, or rather lack thereof.

    "Hey Dwayne!" yelled someone as the two friends parade of jokes on each other was interrupted.

    Dwayne turned around and greeted the two girls, both short and a little bit on the chubby side.

    "Who's your friend over there?" one of the girls asked, pointing to Sean in the background who was still staring off into nowhere it seemed.

    "Sean!" Dwayne yelled to garner his friend's attention, "This is Tammy and this is Keisha. Keisha and Tammy, this is Sean."

    "Hi," Sean said weakly as he smiled at them, particularly Keisha.

    "I haven't seen him around before," Keisha said.

    "I-I'm new," Sean responded with a crack in his voice, "Moved in from Jersey about a month ago,"

    Even back in Jersey, Sean had his fair share of hiccups when it came to the fairer sex. He was an only child and was home schooled until the eight grade, leaving his social skills minimal at best. He was awkward and shy but he compensated it with a 4.3 GPA entering his senior season and having been accepted to several prestigious universities throughout the country. But at 18 and still a virgin, good grades and a bright future weren't cutting it for him anymore, especially when his family moved down to Miami.

    ..........................

    "What the...."

    Before Mr. Jefferson could finish his sentence, Trey lunged Ace's body onto the sofa. He tired to catch his breathe before he had to explain to Mr. Jefferson why he just barged into his house and threw his son's drunken body onto the sofa.

    "Sorry for not knocking but I didn't want to wake y'all up," Trey explained as he went over to shake his hand, "Sorry for waking you up Mr. Jefferson,"

    "Don't got to explain nothing to me, Trey. That boy can't handle alcohol like his daddy! Call me Ice or Woody by the way," the elder man said as he laughed at his drunken son, "Looks like he had all the fun and you took care of the business as usual."

    "I-I-I don't get what you're saying sir," Trey replied, a little bit confused by Woody's insinuation.

    "Drop the sir bullshit Trey," Woody said as he grabbed two water bottles from the fridge, "Look at the boys feet and yours. Y'all got them brand new Jordans and neither one of y'all got a job. And if y'all two are anything like ya pops, y'all already got your high school on lock!"

    "You knew my dad?" Trey asked, puzzled by this new discovery.

    "Ya moms didn't tell you? Me and your dad go way back! In fact, I was with him when he died. Damn shame what happened,"

    Neither of them spoke a word for a while after that. Trey's dad was killed during a drug-deal-gone-bad when Trey was just a kid and Trey's mom barely talked about his dad and how he died. Most of Trey's memories of his dad came from what his brother Junior told him. Trey had known Woody for quite some time now, but mainly from afar. Woody had always been around, whether it was bailing out Junior or just being at most family functions, Trey had never gotten to know him.

    "What's y'all little operation? I'm guessing you the brain of the operation," Woody said, sitting up in his chair.

    "Uh, not much really. We buy it 70 cents on the dollar, end up making a little bit of profit." Trey explained, a little bit proud of his operation, "We ain't stepping on your turf though,"

    "Lighten up man," Woody said with a chuckle, "I appreciate that. Real stand up dude you seem like, just like yo' pops. How about this? Who's your plug?"

    Trey took a big gulp of his water, trying to give himself time to think about what he was going to say. Rico had been real good for him, fronting him when no other person would to such an inexperienced person. But Woody wasn't the type of person you said 'no' to, especially not in house. He couldn't lie to him either as he would eventually found out, making it even worse for Trey.

    "Rico," he finally said, deciding to avert the most immediate danger, "Good dude, been our plug since day one. He's treated me like family,"

    "I respect that. I respect that. How about this? You come work for me," Woody laid back into his chair, intentionally trying to convey his power and intimidation, "You said 70 on the dollar? I'll go 60. Family discount. I'm talking Os though, none of that dime shit. I understand relationships, I value them. I really do so, what do you say? You tell this Rico dude you're stepping away. You working for Ice now. He'll understand. What do you say about that?"

    "Sounds good," Trey weakly said, knowing he really had no other choice.

    "I like you. You seem like you're a fucking soldier. You work for me now man. Anybody give you shit, anybody try to talk that shit? Tell them you work for Ice,"
    Last edited by Soapy; 07-29-2014 at 8:35 PM.


    [Today 6:58 PM] CountdowNxx : if you think a bunch of overrated thugs running through smoke is better than Osceola planting the burning spear at midfield then I don't know what to say to you
    [Today 11:27 PM] BazeGOAT : I'm gonna enjoy watching the Patriots lose some time in the next month.

    El Duque by BazeGOAT

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  2. #2
    G.O.A.T. Soapy's Avatar

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    This will be a five episode long, mini serie. Hope y'all like it


    [Today 6:58 PM] CountdowNxx : if you think a bunch of overrated thugs running through smoke is better than Osceola planting the burning spear at midfield then I don't know what to say to you
    [Today 11:27 PM] BazeGOAT : I'm gonna enjoy watching the Patriots lose some time in the next month.

    El Duque by BazeGOAT

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  3. #3
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    symp


    "Welcome to Will Rogers World Airport...."

    Marcus' feet were weak as they came out of the gate, finding their way through the foot traffic. Marcus had never left his hometown, yet alone boarded a plane and the entire five-hour flight was hell for Marcus. It wasn't often that the 6-foot-7, 345 pounder found himself in a vulnerable position, wishing he could simply fall asleep during the flight but he felt every rumble, every movement.

    "Hope we don't get a small ass fucking car," Marcus whispered as he leaned against the car rental kiosk.

    "Language in front of the lady," coach Morales said as he filled out the form, "You'll be happy with whatever we get."

    Coach Morales had been a hard-ass on Marcus the first day he stepped foot at South Central High. Marcus was the only freshmen on varsity and coach Morales had taken a keen interest in him and told Marcus from day one that if he listened to him, he'd one day be a premier athlete. Coach also filled in as a father figure, taking care of Marcus and his young sister Keisha when Marcus' mom simply didn't have the time to do so.

    Marcus simply scoffed and buried his head into his phone, scrolling through Instagram to make time pass. After ten or so minutes, the lady came out from the back and handed coach Morales they keys and the car number. Coach thanked the lady before hitting Marcus on the head to get his attention and the two men exited the airport and went to the parking lot.

    "You said 207B right?" Marcus asked as he passed by an Escalade, hoping it was their car.

    "217B," coach answers, drawing a sigh from Marcus. "I think I found it."

    Marcus followed the voice and was dissapointed when he spotted the grey Chevy Aveo, which looked like could barely fit just one of Marcus' leg.

    "Come on coach," Marcus pleaded as he threw his luggage into the backseat, "This ain't how you do a five-star recruit,"

    "Not everything is going to be glitz and glamour Marcus," coach reminded the 18-year old, "You think coach Gundy is going to remember your name come August? You'll just be another number to them kid,"

    "He'll know my name," he rebuffed as he somehow managed to squeeze inside the car, "I'm going to start every game of my entire college career. Just watch, coach."

    Back and safely on the ground, Marcus drifted into his sleep as he thought about the roaring fans, the student section going crazy. Not a lot of things went right in Marcus' life but football always felt right and he had always been good at it. Marcus' mom struggled to make ends meet but she always scrapped up enough money to sign-up Marcus for Optimus football every year. He was well over six-foot tall by the sixth grade and once coach Morales got his hands on him during his freshman year, Marcus quickly shot up underclassmen watch-list, eventually earning him a five-star as the country's second best offensive tackle.

    Marcus wiped the crust out of his eyes as he was awaken by the car's sudden stop. He sat up from his seat, looking around to see where he was. 'Stillwater, where Oklahoma Began' read the sign as they drove into what seemed to be main street. It wasn't much but there was a certain elegance to it's simplicity. Several local stores were adjacent to each other, stretching for nearly a mile or so. They drove through Main Street, passing by T. Boone Pickens Stadium before reaching the athletic facilities.

    "Leave the bags in the car," coach Morales said as the two stepped out and looked at the old but still stunning campus.

    "I could get used to this," Marcus whispered as he passed by two brunettes.

    As they reached the door, coach Barr, Oklahoma State's recruiting coordinator, was there to greet them.

    "How you doin' today, son?" said the old man in his Southern drawl, "Coach, nice of you to join us today."

    The men exchanged pleasantries before moving inside, where coach Barr would give them a short, brief tour of the facilities, assuring Marcus he will have a chance to check out all the perks more comprehensively during his campus tour with a fellow student-athlete.

    "You're going to love Danny," coach Barr said of Marcus' guide for his visit, "e's been with us for five years and he's actually from Florida so I thought I'd put y'all together and he's a really great kid. Hell of an o-lineman too."

    Coach Barr escorted Marcus to the locker room, meeting some of the other guys before being introduced to Daniel Koenig, his tour guide for his visit.

    "I think I'm going to get some shut-eye," coach Morales said as he looked at his watch, "Just call me when you're done, Marcus. Daniel, it was a good to meet you."

    Coach Barr escorted Morales outside, engaging in some banter, mainly over Oklahoma State's plan for Marcus.

    "He's a good kid but you just need to give him some guidance," coach Morales said as they reached his car, "He's going to be one helluva player."

    "I see a bright future for Marcus," coach Barr agreed, "Before you go, weren't you an assistant coach at Weber State?"

    "Graduate assistant before I moved down to Florida because of my wife's family," coach Morales responded with a raised eyebrow, "How did you know?"

    "One of our coaches brought it up and like you said, Marcus needs some guidance. If he were to come here, I'm sure we could work something out," coach Barr said as the two shook hands.



    [Today 6:58 PM] CountdowNxx : if you think a bunch of overrated thugs running through smoke is better than Osceola planting the burning spear at midfield then I don't know what to say to you
    [Today 11:27 PM] BazeGOAT : I'm gonna enjoy watching the Patriots lose some time in the next month.

    El Duque by BazeGOAT

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    Cook! Baze's Avatar


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    Second best offensive tackle? I hope he run into the best

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    Stand On Guard For Thee Captain Canada's Avatar

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    Liking how this is shaping up, Soapy. Let's get part three out.

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    cold ass honkey djp73's Avatar

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    Enjoying so far

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    G.O.A.T. Soapy's Avatar

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    symp


    "This is some pretty good stuff," Trey said with approval as he took a whiff of the bag, "None of that cheap shit Rico been given us lately,"

    "I'm trying out a new strand," an out-of-sight voice came from the back-seat of the black Escalade, "You gonna have niggas tweaking ova' that shit,"

    "This is top of the line stuff," Woody said as he put out his blunt and flicked it out the window, "I'll front you four Os. See how quickly you get through it and we'll see where we go from there,"

    "Sounds straight to me," Trey replied as he pulled up his shorts, "Where's the stuff?"

    The car got silent as they all looked at each other before bursting in laughter. Trey could feel his face turning red in embarrassment, not sure what was so damn funny. He had questioned whether or not going in business with Woody was a good idea, not that he had a choice in the saying. A man like Woody offers you a chance to push weight for him in his own living room, you really can only say yes. Trey was small-time; flipping dime bags at a time and making just enough money to buy himself the new Jordan's that seemingly came out every week. Woody, or Ice as he goes by on the streets, was a hardened criminal, pushing cocaine since the 80s in the ruthless streets of Miami. He wasn't someone to fuck around with and missing payments with Rico was one thing, Woody was a whole different subject.

    "Go around the corner on 22nd and just roll up to the house with the blue Toyota parked out front," Woody said as he stared to put the SUV in drive, "He'll be waiting for you."

    Trey did as he was told as Woody and his boys took off down the street, running through a stop sign. Trey got into his car and started heading towards 22nd before spotting the blue Toyota Camry like Woody said. He threw his book bag over his shoulder as he started walking up to the house, nodding at the guy leaning against the car smoking a cigarette.

    "Ain't you JuJu's brother?" the man asked as he led him inside the one-story house, "That was my boy back in high school,"

    "Yeah," Trey replied, keeping his calm as he walked through the kitchen, spotting the topless women 'cooking'.

    "This that shit right here," he said as he handed Trey four, clear Ziploc bags, "What JuJu doing these days?"

    "Right now he on probation at the crib," Trey replied, "Tryna find a job but shits rough on these streets. What's yo' name?"

    "I'm Greezy," he said as he dapped up Trey and led him back to his car, "Let that nigga JuJu know that the streets need him back yo,"

    Trey nodded before walking towards the car, anxious to throw the bag full of narcotics in his trunk. He got inside the car and drove off, careful not to drive too slow and attract the attention of cops. As much as Trey loved to talk that shit, he had never actually been inside a trap house. Nothing like that. It was at least a dozen girl in that kitchen working for Woody, probably around the clock. He knew that maybe he went over his head but he had one thing to worry about and that was selling those four ounces as quick as possible.

    "Ayo," Trey said into his phone as he tried to balance it between his shoulder and his cheek, "What y'all doing tonight? For real? I got some good ass weed on me right now so if you want the plug, holla at a nigga."

    .....................

    Sean frantically entered the security code for the alarm in the house before swinging the door open, throwing his bag to the floor as he ran across the living room. He slowed down once he arrived to the kitchen, quickly going through the mail. Sports Illustrated, Men's Health, Cover Girl. He grew impatient as he went through the endless stack of papers and magazine before finally finding the one he wanted. He pulled it out of the pile and slowly started to rip up the envelope, careful not to do too much damage to the letter in case he wanted to shrine it.

    Dear Sean,

    [indent]The admissions committee has met and I'm sorry to inform you that we were not able to admit you to Princeton this year.


    Sean could feel his breathing stop and his heart plummet as he read the last few words. He scrambled to continue reading the rest of the letter, hoping there was something he could do. Nope. The decision was made. He rubbed his eyes as he could feel tears starting to swell up. Four years of studying, four years of dedication and after just one sentence, it all came crumbling down. He didn't know how he was feeling. He didn't know what he should be feeling. Anger? Out of 1,245 students, why couldn't he be one of them? They didn't work as hard as he did. Disappointment? How was he going to tell his dad, who use to drive with him pass Princeton's campus every morning and told him how he would one day be a student here and eventually have a building named after him. The plan was falling through. Everything he had worked for was falling through.

    He threw the letter on top of the kitchen table as he walked away from the kitchen, reaching for his phone in his pocket.

    "What's up?" he said into the phone, "Doing anything tonight?"

    "Sean? From the party?" replied the voice on the other side, "I didn't think you'd call me. You didn't seem like the call-first type,"

    "First time for everything," he replied as he looked in disgust in the direction of the letter.

    "I'm down to hang out," she replied, "Just call Dwayne and have him picked me up,"

    .....................

    "I can't spot you man," Trey said as he shook his head, "Not tonight,"

    "Come on man!" replied John in anger, "I'm your boy!"

    "Well, when you got 20 on you, then you gonna be my fucking boy."

    Trey snatched the two dime bags from his hand and stuffed them into his pocket. The last thing he wanted to do was sell all of Woody's weed and not have the money when he comes calling. He wasn't fan of working the corner as he much preferred to be selling to people he knew, people he went to school with. But the only way he was going to sell four ounces worth of weed in two weeks was if he was ready to sell it on the streets.

    "There's your bitch ass," Trey could feel his heart sink as he turned around, only to be relieved when he saw an all too familiar face.

    "Don't run up on me like that," Trey replied, dapping Ace up.

    "Scary ass. Somebody told me they saw you out here and I went to see for myself," Ace said as he leaned against Trey's car, "I thought you'd be chilling at Marcus' crib but you wasn't there. Shit was mad dry and if I had some fucking weed on me, I would of banked. What the hell you doing out here?"

    "Look, I know you ain't a big fan of yo' pops and all but he did me a solid. He fronted me about four ounces and I'm telling you, it's the shit man."

    "Please tell me you fucking joking," Ace said as he stood up from the hood of the car, "You did what?"

    "Rico been giving us all his whack shit lately so yo pops did me a solid and came through," Trey tried to explain himself, "We'll sell for him just until we got enough money to do that molly thing we've been talking. After that, we out the game."

    "Out the game? There's a reason when we started this shit I didn't want to get my pops involved. Ain't no fucking out the game! First it's ounce then he talking about moving that white!"

    "What'd you want me to do," Trey replied as he threw his hand up, "It wasn't exactly a fucking offer,"

    "You should of fucking told me!" Ace said in anger as he paced back and forth.

    "Well shit is done now," Trey replied as he unlocked the car, "We got four ounces and two weeks to sell it,"

    .....................

    "We finally got some god damn weed," Marcus said as he brought the bag over the to the patio table, "Good look Trey."

    Marcus handed Trey a twenty as Dwayne and Keisha started rolling up the blunts. Sean looked anxiously around the room, deciding whether or not he had made the right decision. Yes, he was devastated but after spending most of his life that weed kills and drugs are bad, he wasn't sure if he was ready to go down this path. He had already dissapointed his father with the rejection letter and not answering his calls for the past hours but he wasn't sure if he was ready to disobey him once more. His dad was man of honor, having served in the Marines for several tours. He had always taken a keen interest in teaching Sean what was right and what was wrong; no grey area.

    But as strong as his father's teachings were, they weren't strong as his lust for Keisha. She had spent the entire night on his lap, running her fingers across his chest. She leaned over as she started to roll up the blunt, exposing her lower back tattoo to Sean as he bit his lips. She was a little bit on the chubby side but had curves in all the right places and Sean could definitely tell that she was feeling him. Her 6-foot-7 mammoth of a brother gave Sean cause for concern but he seemed to be well-aware and accepting of his sister's free-spirited behavior.

    "This that good shit," she said as she took a hit and passed it on to Sean, "This your first time, ugh?"

    "Yeah," Sean said reluctantly as he took the blunt and inhaled, "How could you tell?"

    "You like supposed to be one of the smart kids so I just figured you don't smoke," she replied as she ran her finger through his hair, "Figured you ain't do much besides read them books,"

    "This is way better than books," he replied, halfheartedly rubbing her thigh, not sure if it was the right move.

    "You ain't even got to the good stuff yet," she said as she covered up his pants with his jacket as she slid her hand down his crotch.



    [Today 6:58 PM] CountdowNxx : if you think a bunch of overrated thugs running through smoke is better than Osceola planting the burning spear at midfield then I don't know what to say to you
    [Today 11:27 PM] BazeGOAT : I'm gonna enjoy watching the Patriots lose some time in the next month.

    El Duque by BazeGOAT

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    Cook! Baze's Avatar


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    #freegreezy

    Sean getting some action what is this

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    Stand On Guard For Thee Captain Canada's Avatar

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    Oooh, she used the jacket move? She real. Good write up man.

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    G.O.A.T. Soapy's Avatar

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    "I can't promise anything. I've been trying to tell that kid what to do since the first day I've met him and I'm lucky if every once in a while he even considers what I'm saying."

    "There must be a misunderstanding. We were told you can deliver him. No hiccups. No problem."

    "I can try to but I'm just saying, he's one tough kid."

    "I can reassure you that your efforts and success will be greatly compensated."


    ...................................

    "I thought you said we were going rounds today," Candace said as she slid her clothes back on.

    "I can't miss sixth period against this week," Trey answered as he looked for his belt, "I'm meeting up with Woody after so I'm probably not gonna see you until tommorow,"

    Candace scoffed as she noticed the 'South Side' tattoo on his chest. "You've changed every since you started hanging around with those thugs,"

    "Ain't nobody fucking changed," Trey replied with a sharp tone as he grabber her wrist, "Ain't nothing different between me and those thugs."

    Trey realized that he was hurting her and let go before grabbing his keys and walking out of the house. She was right; he had changed. That was one of the effects of being around Woody and his boys, your perspective on things changed. He was no saint before meeting Woody, having never spent a year of school without being suspended at least once but it was usually for petty, small things. Right now he was just pushing dope for Woody but sooner of later, he'll be a full blown gang member.

    "You said you'd be here ten minutes ago," Ace said as he dapped up Trey at the school entrance, "You can't go a day without busting a nut in that bitch?"

    "You know you'd be fucking her on the regular if you could too," Trey replied as he nodded towards a group of people sitting on a bench, "How y'all doing today?"

    "I'm trying to ride out for sixth," said one of the guys, "You down?"

    "We can't miss another sixth period or Mrs. Gonzalez gonna write me up," Trey replied as he dapped up everyone at the table, "We got some new shit coming in tonight so I got y'all tommorow,"

    The two boys continued to walk to their way to class, stopping frequently to set up potential sales. Ace liked this part of business, interacting with everyone. He was what most would call a social butterfly and while he wasn't quite made out to be part of his dad's crew, he didn't mind doing this. He was always the center of the party and the focus of the action. He loved the fact that people's faces lit up when they saw him enter a room, knowing he brought the goods with him.

    "What up girl," Ace said as he wrapped his arms around her waist, in complete disregard for her boyfriend standing five-feet away, "What we doing tonight?"

    Get off me Ace," Keisha replied as she tried to not look interested.

    "I can come through with that good-good tonight if y'all need some," Trey intervened, wanting to change the conversation back to business.

    Keisha looked at Sean before shaking her head, "No, I don't smoke anymore."

    "Come on girl," Ace said as he started to walk in circles around Keisha, "We gonna take care of some business but after that, it's cool if you could swing by. We ain't chilled in a minute baby, I miss you."

    "She said no," Sean finally stepped up, drawing the attention of the crowd.

    "Who the fuck is this nigga?" Ace said as he stood face-to-face with Sean, towering over his small-frame.

    "Stop this dick measuring shit," Trey got in between the two as he was more focused on making some money then tripping over girls, "Let your brother know we have some new stuff coming in tonight,"

    "Whatever man," Ace said with a chuckle as he stepped away, "Keisha must of forgot how many times we ran through her for a fucking dime bag,"

    As soon as Trey and Ace turned around, Sean landed a jab right into the back of Ace's neck. The punch caught Ace by surprise, sending him tumbling a few steps forward before regaining his balance. He turned around to face Sean and grabbed him by the shoulders, sending him right into the wall. Sean crumbled to the floor and before he could figure out his next move, Ace was on top of him, swinging away for what seemed like eternity before Trey was able to pull him off him.

    "What the fuck you doing?!" Trey yelled as he held Ace back, "You got shit on you and you gonna get into a fucking fight for her?"

    "See me when I see you nigga!" Ace yelled before taking off with Trey.

    ...................................

    "You're early," Greezy said as he opened the door and was surprised to see the new member of his crew, "I'm assuming you got the money?"

    "I always got the money," Trey with a false sense of confidence as he placed a roll of 20s and 10s on the table, "Four for four so far,"

    "You just like JuJu," Greezy said with a chuckle as he started to count up the money, "Hopefully you don't end up like him, locked up in his own damn house. He know you doing this?"

    "Should he?"

    "None of his damn business but that is your blood," Greezy replied before stuffing the money into the safe located in the corner of the living room, "He should also know his brother is better at the game then he was. At first, at least. First time he started pushing for Ice, motherfucker missed the first two payments. Ice has me track him down since we were boys since we was little and I find him fucking some bitch down the street. Ice drags him ass naked out the streets, pulls out the tool on him and tells him that if he wasn't your dad's boy, his brains would be all over the floor. The only time I've ever seen Ice pull out his gun and not end up shooting somebody."

    "Good thing I'm four for four," Trey replied with a light chuckle.

    "Real good thing. Ice was there during the 80s man, when shit was really popping. I'm talking Griselda Blanco shit. Word on the street is that Griselda tried to kill Ice at least ten times, but he kept getting away. Motherfucker seen shit man, he's ruthless and he wants everybody in his crew to be ruthless. And that includes you from now on,"



    [Today 6:58 PM] CountdowNxx : if you think a bunch of overrated thugs running through smoke is better than Osceola planting the burning spear at midfield then I don't know what to say to you
    [Today 11:27 PM] BazeGOAT : I'm gonna enjoy watching the Patriots lose some time in the next month.

    El Duque by BazeGOAT

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    #LetMileyTwerk #enterjameisjoke

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