Page 13 of He Don't Play About Me
While his big ass walked off to do that, I hopped in the back of my car, pulled out the baggies and the scale that Islah put in the duffel for me, and started to break that brick down while lookin’ at rings on my phone for Islah.
I felt good, like I was moving for a purpose other than paying bills and lookin’ good. I was laying a real foundation with my girl that was built on trials and tribulations.
As I multitasked and was in my thought, I got a notification from Islah. There were more houses. With a smile on my face, I stopped everything I was doing and looked them over, with oneof them catching my eye. It was in a nice side crib in the hills, away from the block, but that didn’t matter to me.
I scheduled a showing time, which gave me enough time to put some shit together.
Once I saw Bully come back, I was about to hop out when I saw him walkin’ to my driver’s door, opening it, and hopping in.
“Nigga, what the fuck your big ass doing movin’ my seat?”
“Nigga, I thought you said we were gettin’ to the money? Break the shit up, and we gonna hit these licks.”
“Well, shit nigga, let’s go then.”
Me and Bully together were like Shaq and Kobe, Future and Drake, even fuckin’ Jay-Z and Kanye in his prime with this dope shit. Our phones rang like Christmas bells back-to-back. The more I cut the brick and bagged it up, the more our phones screamed, fiends ready to get their fix, and once either of us answered our phones, Bully yelled, “We in motion, baby, and charging delivery!”
The first few stops were light, but by midday? We were activated, no lil’ orders. Niggas were buying to make money off my work, and we were out of crack, but the duffel bag was full of green.
“Damn, we out for the day?” Bully asked.
I shook my head. “Hell nah, nigga, take me by the crib.”
Our phones was still goin’ off while we were on the way to the house to re-up. We were both tellin’ niggas we were comin’ back. While I was smiling ear to ear, thinking about the look on Islah’s face when her nigga comes through bigger than she expected.
When Bully got to the complex, I hopped out quick, running up the steps and unlocking the front door to see Islah sitting in the living room.
“Damn, baby, you good?” she asked as I went straight to our bedroom.
“Yeah, baby, just needed to re-up. I’ma be in late tonight,” I yelled as I filled another duffel bag. “You want me to order you some dinner?”
I walked back out, and she looked at me strange. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
I nodded as I walked over to kiss her.
“Yeah, baby, I’ma order you some dinner, be lookin’ for it.”
She nodded as I rushed out, phone in my hand, placing a delivery order for her favorite pizza spot. I hopped back in the back of the car.
“Go ahead to the first drop, I’ma get this shit right.”
Bully drove off, and we were back active in every hood. From the Bloods to the Crips to goddamn MS-13, I was welcomed—I was respected. And pause, I gave them that good shit.
I was never on edge around them niggas, but something had the hair on my arms standing up, and it wasn’t the Cali breeze.
It was instinct.
Every time we stopped the car, I felt it. A pause too long, a car that stayed parked but always around when we were, a face that stayed looking in our direction too long.
I felt like somebody was counting my moves, maybe watching, maybe waiting. And shit, I couldn’t tell if I was just paranoid or trippin’, but either way, I put that feelin’ to the side and finished servin’ the fiends until we were out again.
On the way back to the hood, I broke Bully off with his cut and stared at all the money I made in a day.
“Man, can you imagine when I get this new load from OG? We walked with this shit, but we ‘bout to skate with that new shit!”
Bully looked at me through the mirror. “Whenever you are ready to slide, my nigga, I’m with you.”
When we got back to the block, niggas were still holding down the corner like they were really seeing plays today. We hopped out, and I walked around to the driver’s seat.
