| (http://i.imgur.com/2zqclA7.png) | Chris walked down the street, bottle of Olde English in hand, his eyes wandering. It had been a while, a long f**king while since he had roamed these streets. Baby G's in various colours stood posted up on corners, hands falling for their straps every time a car rolled by, niggas these days are twitchy. These streets hadn't seen Chris since the riots, Curtis and his brother Deshawn dipped off to New York and had gotten mixed up with the mob acting as runners. Jamal Bates got himself arrested on felony charges, Sean Jackson and Antwon Biggins had been killed. Most if not all the old school OGs had fled, been killed or had been picked up by the five-o. The respect left with them. The discipline left with them. Now it was just a bunch of nigg**s with Assault Rifles playing soldiers with one another. Snitchin' had become a regular occurrence, didn't help that the five-o cruised through the streets on a hourly basis looking to beatdown on the first nigg** they come across. Wannabe sets and crews roamed the streets with no knowledge on how to do things. They thought a bullet solved everything. In most cases, Chris thought, they were right, but in the end they were lost, nigg**s without a purpose. Reachin' for your strap didn't make you a gangsta, it just made you some nigg** with a gun who shot people. Just because you threw on a blue or red shirt don't make you any higher than some bit*h punk downin' somebody for a nickel bag just so he can feed his habit. Group of young nigg**s over in Ganton didn't look to be agreeing with said street code, as Chris stepped into view they removed their Glocks and pointed them at him. "The f**k you want?" One asked, tongue rolling over his gold grill. Fitted cap, sagging jeans, easy on the trigga, and the first one to speak up. This one Chris thought must be the so called 'leader'. Chris sized him up and cracked a smile. "I'm just passin' through on my way to 187 Street you know." His hands didn't shake. He didn't blink. The leader waved his Glock and smacked his teeth. "Well then pass the f**k through ... nigga or step too." His eyes shot open and he laughed. These young niggas always so eager to get shit poppin'. As he stood there, looking at this skinny ass nigg** and his boys, all strapped up and looking to go, he realized he had two options. He could simply step off and be on 'bout his way or he could step to the lil nigga. Drop him like Muhammed Ali and maybe teach him a lesson or two on being a real G. Decisions, decisions he thought. | (http://i.imgur.com/2zqclA7.png) |
Well one idlewood nigga has your back, for sure.'
Where do i sign up?