Page 76 of He Don't Play About Me
I raised an eyebrow as I looked at him.
“Did you hear what the fuck I just said, nigga? I got a new plug, I bought her ass a ring, a crib, then she gonna up and leave a nigga when we are at the finish line?—”
“And you fucked up, nigga!” Kronic added, cutting me off. “You went to jail, lost control, and that bitch took advantage to get back at you. And on top of all of that, the way Islah has been down for you through the years… outta all our niggas, you’re the only one that has the longest relationship. She respected your hustle, hit the block with you, looked good, and took care of home.”
“I know, nigga, I know,” I shot back.
“Then you should have did right by her, nigga.”
I stared off in the distance, letting what he said sink in. He was right, so was Bully. I needed to leave her alone and see if love would bring us back together, like the old folks used to say.
But for some reason, that thought didn’t sit right with me.
I turned around, and Kronic was handing me a lit blunt. I took it from him, inhaled, and exhaled, feeling like I was blowing all the doubt outta me.
“Man, fuck that waiting shit,” I said as I picked up my duffel bag. “I can’t wait; the longer I wait, the faster she’s slipping away.”
I opened my duffel bag and showed it to Kronic. “I saw that bitch one more time.”
He laughed and shook his head. “What’s ya plan nigga?”
“Nigga, I’ma light this block up, then get my house ready for her.”
“Okay, nigga,” Kronic said, rollin’ another blunt. “And then what?”
“I’ma get my girl back, what the fuck you mean?” I shot back.
He laughed. “I guess you just met Islah. Go ahead nigga, do your big one.”
I stepped off the porch, clapped my hands like I was doing a bird call, and them fiends stared flockin’.
I sat on my nigga step, cut up work, bagged it up, and made my money like a nigga was sellin’ cookies. Kronic watched in amazement as my shit moved so fast.
The crackhead made calls and sent people to me, and by the end of the day, I was out.
Kronic made a call to his people so I could re-up, and while we waited for them. I went and showed some people some love. I got into a dice game with niggas, taking even more money from them when I heard my name being called from a car.
I stared at the car before I walked over to it, not knowing who it was until they hopped out and I saw that it was Loc.
I stared at him, and he motioned for me to come over. I grabbed my money from the ground and walked over to that nigga.
“Wussup with you?” he asked.
“Not shit, trying to get back in the mix of things.”
He nodded. “I heard you got popped. They be doing niggas dirty.”
I raised my eyebrows and watched his body language, hearing Islah’s voice in my head softly.
“You might have got set up.”
I nodded. “Yeahhh, they tried to keep a real nigga down?—”
“They did,” he said, cutting me off. “Did they find what they needed from your crib?”
I backed up from him; the nigga had a smirk on his face.
I smirked right back at him. “Let me tell you this, nigga,” I said low. “Let me find out?—”
