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Sunday, April 9, 2017
Wednesday, April 5, 2017
INSERTS FROM "LICKS: CHAP.1 THE BEGINNING: ~Chap.1 &.2
Chapter 1:
Lunch trays had just come though the chuck-hole and the inmates were acting like the deputies had the whole block on Ramadan. All of a sudden, the entry cages closed and the main door opened. With his blue-bag filled with a blanket, two sheets and a “2” inch thick mat in hand, Ronnie Watson stepped through the loudly slammed door and into the entry cage. “Back in this motherfucka again over some petty shit”, he mumbled to himself. “I’m in here for spitting on my baby-mama and they got me on the 7th floor with all da' murderers, stick-ups kids, and rapists." All he could do was sarcastically laugh.
But with a criminal history that read- Malicious Wounding, Extortion, Kidnapping, Possession of a firearm in the commission of a felony, Attempted Murder, and Assault on a police officer, he knew why a misdemeanor got him "duct taped" to the most dangerous floor which the inmates labeled the “Gladiator floor”. They called it the Gladiator floor because once that caged is closed behind you, fist fights were a matter-of-time sort of thing and mob-assaults were the normal routine. It was once said that out of the 400 inmates on the 7th floor, only 4% had bail bonds they could post to be released from jail until trial. Probably why the title "penitentiary floor" was its other nickname. Fortunately for Ronnie or “Watts” as the streets called him, the jail house magistrate gave him one. Now all he had to do was kiss ass and apologize (not to mention-convince his "B.M" to fuck and suck $9,000 out of her friend with benefits and Mob Piru Supreme, "Lil Blood").
Walking from cell to cell toward the showers and back, Watts was disappointed he didn’t know any of the inmates from "the land"(out in the streets) but was even more grateful he didn’t see any old enemies or victims of "stings" as far as he could remember. And doing robberies or “licks” or “stings” as the hood called it, you had to have a memory bank like a Macintosh computer. As he put his bag down, the deputy brought in his plastic “Stack-A-Bunk” which were 1 inch thick plastic, canoe-shaped beds, which didn’t do much to support the 2 inch blue mat he came in the cell block with. “Thanks for the next to nothing motherfucka”, he mumbled under his breath. “Don’t get locked up; you fucking convict”, replied the skinny red-neck deputy. He moved his blue bag and dropped the tall, bulky, stack-a-bunk on the floor by the toilet in the day room, which was only 9x30 foot space for the inmates to watch T.V and eat meals on the steel picnic bench and table welded to the jailhouse bars.
All the huts were occupied and this was the only place to sleep. As he unpacked and started dressing the blue mat to lay on, a voice said “Them bitch-ass Deps always trying to pull rank; mad cause they wasn’t blue enough to make the force”. Watts looked up to see who was talking to him. Though he didn’t see a face to go with the voice, he knew it was coming from the hut closest to the entry cage. A short and stocky, pretty-boy, with the waves spinning type nigga approached him. As he extended his hand, he said “wuddup Phew? Name"s Disco”. Ronnie reached his hand out to dap him up and say “They call me Ronnie” but studdered when he released Disco’s hand and noticed a small piece of folded paper left in his palm. By the time he looked up, Disco was already walking away. As he layed back on his stack-a-bunk, he discreetly unfolded the kite that Disco passed him. It read “Get at me in a half”, “I’ma have my celly go play some chess or something- he's known for earhustling”. Gathering his thoughts together, he wondered “who the fuck is this nigga?” and more importantly “how can I get the fuck up out this bitch and away from niggas like this fake-ass friendly motherfucka?”
With twenty-minutes gone by attempting to get in contact with cats back on the land with money to spare, Watts tried his baby-mother (Bianca) but was just irritated even more when she answered the phone but wouldn’t accept the collect call. Laughing to himself, he thought “well, I guess getting her to pay my cell phone bill is outta the motherfucking question. Man, fuck that slut-bucket” he said to himself, “That’s why I’m fucking her first cousin now! Cause her ass in da way with dat' bullshit”. As he walked down to Disco’s hut, he noticed random people staring at him. Some were even gritting on him but he tried his best not to let it get to him. Once he reached Disco’s cell, he noticed the cell mate previously in the hut with Disco, was now in the day room talking shit to his opponent as they played chess. “Have a seat on the toilet; you good my G”, he told the physically fit, cut-up stranger standing in his door way.
As he attempted to pass Watts an oatmeal cake and a pack of Ramen Noodles, Ronnie stood up with a mean-mug look on his face. “I don't know what the fuck you thought but I ain't no motherfucking gump ass nigga.” Disco just started laughing then said, “Save that shit for when you take that ride to Greenville or wherever they shippin' ya ass off to homey; I was just trying to look out for a nigga.” All Ronnie could say was “Damn! My bad, my bad.” Disco asked him, “What? I know this ain't ya first bid!” Watts replied, “Nah, but you know how shit get around about 8/11, and last time I was in 7E? They put a couple gumps in the block. These motherfuckas had titties and all yo...” Disco laughed a little more and said “nah, they put the gumps in P.C. now cause niggas kept beating the shit outta em'. But nah, I seen you around back on the land n’ shit. You got a baby by light-skinned Bianca from out Lincoln Park in P-town, don’t you? Shocked that he knew so much but not surprised that Disco knew his money-chasing ass baby-mother, Ronnie just said “yeah, its that bitch fault I’m in here now; trying to act like she can't accept my fucking phone calls, bird ass bitch! But anyway, wuddup? I read that kite you passed me". Speaking a little more quiet than before but with a more serious look on his face, Disco said “Nah, I just wanted you to see shit pop off from a ring side seat instead of being a statistic”.
Observing the block, they noticed one minute everyone had on shower shoes and the next, about 8 of them had on their sneakers with shoe laces made from ripped up bed sheets. Watts had seen this before in 7E when some loud mouth New Yorkers were placed in the block. Four inmates seemed to consistently walk closer and closer, back and forth near two individuals making phone calls and whispering to each other. You could tell they knew what was about to go down because the fat one had two pencils taped together in his hand with one of those “ I wish-a-nigga would” looks on his face. He must have had a genie by the ear because out of nowhere, all 8 inmates just started beating blood from both of them. The fat one got stabbed in the jaw with the same pencil he had in his hand while blood was gushing from the smaller one’s face. There was so much blood oozing out, you couldn’t tell whether more blood was spilling from his right eye socket or his mouth. They punched and stomped them for fifteen minutes straight before the turtles bum-rushed the block with tazors and paint guns filled with rubber bullets; them shits will have a nigga on the 8th floor, up in medical, in a heartbeat. Watts later found out the cats doing the lenching were Mob Piru Bloods from Ocean View and the victims were Hoover Crips from Park Place. As both parties were escorted out the block and on their way to the hole, Disco said to one of the bloods, “let fam-fam know it's already on the books”. The gang-banger responded, “Sooo Woooooop” as he walked hand-cuffed out the door.
Watts didn’t catch on then but once the block ear hustler filled in all the blanks while Disco was asleep, it made sense. Apparently, Disco had a bit of a grudge towards the Crips every since the O.G of the Park Place Chapter scored 4 bricks of “Fishscale” cocaine from him with $75,000 in counterfeit money. It was said that after that, a lot of guerilla stick up crews saw disco as “food” or easy prey. What they forgot was that money buys friends and protection but even more so, it pays for assaults by mobs and many murder-for-hires. It was around 3:50 when watts saw a hall trustee that he knew from the streets named “Cowboy.” Cowboy was a known klepto from Young's Park projects in Norfolk, Va. An old saying stuck with him (If it ain't cemented to the ground, thieving ass Cowboy somewhere around). “You back in here again phew?" said the chubby trustee who at 29, looked twice his age. Watts just shook his head with a smirk. “Hell yeah, over some bullshit with Bianca. I fucked round and spit in that bitch face and she pressed charges against my ass. And you know they pulled me in on that "Q.T click" shit back in 95’ so I'm on the 7th floor even if it’s a weed charge. But what's the dozen cousin? How long you got left?" Cowboy said, “one more week phew! But I ain't in no rush, shiiiiit, you know that nigga C-low put 8 stacks on my head after I sent these Chesapeake cats up in his baby-mama spot and they hit him for about 70-75 g’s. Them cocksuckers said they ain't get shit but 2 camcorders and a Chinchilla out that bitch. Next time I see the ring leader named Wink, he pushing a 2011 BMW 760 on Giavannis. He got the nerve to tell me that one of his "jump offs" got a $20,000 loan from Navy Federal Credit Union and bought it for him. I wanted to stick my pocket knife through the window of that shit and stab him right in his fuckin' face but I know he would’ve popped me dead in my ass with that Desert Eagle he had in his passenger seat. So you know, I held my tongue, yeah, I held my tongue! But when he pulled off? I was calling him all kinds of punk bitches and mother F’ers”. Watts just laughed. “Damn Smokey, why you ain't put me and my boys on that one? You normally hunting me down to give me and my peoples the drops on these niggas!”.
Feeling embarassed and frustrated at the same time, Cowboys replied "man, I-own-know! They was around and I knew they was the type to go get that paper. I got something for they ass though! One of the niggas in winks crew is down on the 5th floor in the "Bama cell". He caught a dope charge but the Crips smacked him in the face with a dinner tray and made him drink shit and piss water. I'm the food trustee for that floor too. I put some rat poison in a lotion bottle when I was down in the kitchen, before I came to this floor”. Suddenly the red-neck deputy appeared, looking impatient. As cowboy started to walk off, he said “I'm out my nigga, faggot ass Dep' acting like I'm getting paid for this shit. But yo! Get at that chess playing ass nigga, he’ll fill you in on everybody in the block, nosey motherfucka! And don’t tell nobody what ya "M.O." is or what you in here for. Niggas jumping on cases like it ain't shit. You know the line these cops be throwing at these snitch ass niggas…… why do five when you can give ten to a friend”.
As the trustee was outta his peripheral, Watts just shook his head and walked over to watch the two cats still at it with the chessboard. Disco’s cellmate said “you play young blood?”. Watts just nodded but never looked up as he seriously focused on each players’ moves. “What’s ya name young blood? They call me “Unk”. Ronnie finally looked up and said “Damn, my bad, I was zoning the fuck out for a minute. My name’s Watts”. The other guy said “What’s poppin buzzin, they call me…….”. Unk cut him off in the middle of his sentence “checkmate little ass nigga, step ya game up before you come talk to Unk”. This my little protégé lil Harvey. I’m trying to school him to this "chess shit" but I see he ain't learned "jack shit". Class dismissed mothafucka, let me see where young blood chess game at. I got some kicking it for you later”. Harvey got up from the metal picnic bench and said “yeah I need some get-back anyway you old snagga-tooth muthafucka". Unk just laughed at him as he walked off mad.
While they were setting up, Watts asked unk, "whats up with niggas in this block?" Unk replied “well, last summer it was 7D that had all the go-gettas and supplies like roll-up cigarettes, mash, and 3-way shots to the land but now its all about 7G or "7Gangsta" as we like to call it. Aaiiight, class in session! Listen up cause I’ma only do this once. Niggas don’t take too kind to mutherfuckas lookin' at em' whispering to each other. That’s what got "fight night" started in the first place …. I’ll tell you about that in a minute but anyway, like I was saying…. In hut one and two you got the “Piru Bloods.” They dem' nigga sthat just got yanked up for doing disco’s dirty work; Harvey the last one left in the block!. That nigga Disco’s money spread all over the 7th and 5th flo! But anyway, where was I? oh yeah! In hut 3, you got Harvey on the bottom left rack and the rest of the cats in his hut some coc'd out plucks from uptown. In hut four, it’s Rome, Billy, and the Sarge. They call him the Sarge cause he used to be an Army Seargant. I heard Judge Griffith gave his ass 35 yrs. for beating his 13 yr old daughter to death after he found out she got pregnant by the neighbors husband. Right now, he 6 and 0 in Friday fight night so don’t come at the nigga sideways. “Shit” he told the whole block that he was gon’ be callin' niggas out until he takes that ride to the pen. That’s why its only 3 niggas in that 4-man hut; cause he don’t like nobody climbing over him or having their feet hanging by his head. “And at 5'8 in my condition, who da' fuck am I to complain? Billy guns is supposed to be some old trigger happy hot head from Berkeley that ran with the Sarge’s son and Rome is Billy’s Stickman/Hitman in training so the Sarge lets them niggas live. But I did see the Sarge choke Rome’s Ass out one morning for leaving a nut-stain on one of his “Smooth” magazines. Billy couldn’t save his ass that morning.
In hut “5”, you got some outtatown stragglers. Two from B-more, fighting a state and federal case for trafficking two bricks of heroin down here. I heard one of them was a first cousin to one of them “Druid Hill, Droopy hills??”. Watts smirked and said "Dru Hill!!". Unk replied “Yeah, that motherufucka too, I don’t fucking know! Anyway the other two young bloods in there with them, don’t talk much so I aint got the drop on them yet but the way they be on the phone crying, I’m positive this is their first time in 811 cause them lil niggas act like they scared to speak and speak cause they scared. Lil Harvey and his blood homies used to have a ball with them two on canteen day. But they’ll be aaaiight.
In hut “6:” you got Tink, New York, English, and Ramel. Tink bout to take that ride for the 3rd time on a probation violation. He been plotting on calling out the Sarge this Friday for fight night but don’t know that the sarge already caught wind to that shit so he probably gon’ swallow a couple teeth before Friday even get here just for telling somebody his plan. New York and English from up top; New York from Queensbridge. That nigga a little too sneaky for his own good. He ain't gon' make it to his next birthday if he keep thinking Virginia niggas is country and slow. English was born in London, England but raised in Flatbush Brooklyn. I thought the niggas was frontin' cause he say that he ran with Haitian Jack, King Tut, and Jimmy Henchman’s crew but word on the street is that the nigga stories is official. They say that him and his peoples was some of the first to bring powder and crack out Foundation Park and Oakleaf Park back in the late 80's, early 90's. And Ramel? I don’t like that little Fucka! He thinks he’s the hardest thing walkin' in 811. But he was quietest kept when them two crip niggas got their asses molly-whopped. I heard him say that them hoover crip niggas aint got shit to do wit' his chapter, the Rolling 60’s Crips so that was their problem, not his. The lil motherfucka only 17 and got a mouth like he 10yrs older than that. He didn’t even come out his hut when them two crips was getting fucked up. He don’t know it but lil Harvey talking about strapping up and doing the do to his lil ass and I can't wait to see it, “shit” I even gassed him up a little to do it. I'm jumping off the subject though.
In hut 7 and 8, you got some of the original members of the "22 Posse". They was this big time gang before your time from Foundation Park out Chesapeake. I heard they brought them back from different Prisons and State farms on new drug and murder indictments. I heard 13 of em' came back to 811. I’m just surprised that they put 8 of em’ in one block but then again this is 7gangsta so who knows! I don’t talk to them motherfuckas though, they too secretive for me and they stick together. One of em’ named Packo? Had the nerve to tell me to stop asking questions about them. Can you believe that bullshit? And he was married to my sister back in 89’!! Ain't that some shit? Anyway, hut “9” is Mikey Dred’s and Jersey’s hut. It’s a 4-man cell but the two cats that was sleeping on the top bunks in there both beat their own “M” charge so a couple "nobodies" that was sleeping in the dayroom, moved in there. No need to fill you in on some nobodies cause really, they just in the way and taking up space. Mikey Dred is from Kingston but was staying in Alexandria moving major weed to them Northern Virginia hustlas and them D.C niggas. Shit, I’m 58 and I lived in Norfolk all my life and I heard about that nigga down here back in 83’. And Jersey is from Newark but was moving weight in West Virginia before he migrated to Newport News and opened shop on them Jefferson Ave. niggas. You know that shit wasn’t gonna last long! I be trying to tell these outta towners shit ain't sweet like it seems on them post cards! Mikey Dred and Jersey both fighting “M” Charges. When the other two cats that left was still fighting their murder charges, Hut “9” was known as “Murders Row”. We call Mikey Dred “Lenox” cause he a serious nigga with a crew connected to the Shower Posse back in Jamaica.
And finally, you got Hut “10”. Hut “10” only got two beds in it and it's bigger than the 4-man huts. Its also the closest to the exit. People look at that on some symbolic, sentimental shit. It’s also Disco’s and my hut. Me? I been in this motherfuckin' block longer than any of these niggas. I'm also a Jailhouse lawyer, I cornrow heads for canteen, and I got roll-ups and weed if you smoke. I move the shit for Disco’s younger brother Stinka. Now that's a loony motherfucka!! Right now I'm working on Disco’s P.W.I.D (Possession.With. Intent. to Distribute.) charge and his Possession of a firearm in the commission of a felony charge. They snagged him up at the 7-11 across from Norfolk State University with a chopper in the trunk and 3 O’s of “Boy” in the Armrest of his Porche. I found two ways to beat his cases for $45 bucks worth in canteen and he paying some big shot lawyer 42g’s to tell him to take a fuckin' plea, knowing damn well Disco got 2 strikes against him and they gon' oil his ass up if he gets convicted on this one. Norfolk wants him so bad because they never could give him the time he deserved and what they really want is to tie him to the dead bodies he was “allegedly” paying for”. Watts could see that he had almost bucked on the wrong nigga.
Unk continued explaining. “If the boys get him, they think he’ll roll over on his lil brother. Now that motherfucka quick to lay that “Murder Game” down, even in broad day. This nigga got like “27” bodies and aint once been even questioned by the cops. Not that any witness would make it to court anyway. That nigga like the Wayne Perry of Norfolk and Big Bro Disco the Southside’s Alpo without all that snitching shit. But on the Low-low, I heard he was moving work and passing info to….". Suddenly the two were interrupted by a loud “Oh Shit” and “Get this nigga off me”, followed by a “DEPUTEEE, DEPPPUTEEE”. When they turned and found out where the screams were coming from, they found Ramel on his back folded up with Lil Harvey standing over him, stomping his head into the concrete floor. Everyone just watched and laughed while Ramel got fucked up for a good 10 minutes straight. Unk even walked over with his cripple ass over and started kicking Ramel in his chest. It took another 5 minutes before the Sarge stopped the assault, picked Ramel off the ground, and toted him to his bed like a Groom carrying his bride over the thresh hold. The Sarge later said that he felt sorry for the lil dude.
Chapter 2: (That Same Night Across town at MARTINI BLUE Bar and Lounge)
Black had only been in town for 3 hrs. and he already had a drink in his hand. “Ayo Ma! Let me get another shot of Patron, a shot of Remy VSOP, and a Corona my baby!" The waitress replied, “You from New York, ain't you?” He laughed replied, "it’s written on my forehead-n-shit? But yeah, I’m from Harlem. Whats your name love? “ The Bartender smiled and said “Well my name’s La-La and Welcome to Martini Blue or the “Trapp” as all the go-gettas call it. I would say welcome to V.A but something tells me that this ain't your first, second, or third time touching down in the "7 cities”. Black just shook his head and said “Damn, Ma! What? You reading minds or something or you starting trouble for outta town niggas on the regular?”. Laughing a little, La-La replied “Nah baby, it ain't nothing like that. But like I said, this is the trap and you definitely don’t look like no real estate agent or construction worker. I got a keen eye for potential and you….". Black cut her off and said “ Potential what?” La-La replied, “If I decide to let you know, we’ll let you know”.
At that very moment, a voluptuous, caramel complexioned female with a flawless face, came out the kitchen and went behind the bar to start serving the overcrowded line of patrons waiting to be served. She squeezed past a-bent-over-the-counter La-La and said “Shay do this, shay do that!! And Baa! Why don’t you kiss the nigga, the way you all up in his face!!!” As shay went pass, La-La replied, “Girrrrl boo!!”. Black thought for a minute and said “What? That’s you?” La-La responded “Like I said, if I decided to let you know, we’ll let you know!!”. Black smiled, “So whats up wit the "Trap"? And who the movers and shakers in here?”. La-La replied, “well, in the daytime, we’re more like a Bar and Grill type of spot and 3 outta 5 weeknights, you got ya regular drinkers and bypassers. But on Thursday nights, its basically the mothafucking club and that goes for Friday and Saturday nights too. You see how crazy shit get in here, just look around!! And for that second question? You selling or buying and are you an officer of the law? You know, if you are, you have to tell the truth or otherwise that’s Entrapment”.
Black was offended and it showed when he replied, ”Nah, I ain't the fuckin' boys and….." La-La quickly interrupted him. “I didn’t ask you that, I asked you, is you an officer of the law so if that’s how I asked it, that’s how you respond to it!!” Sounding shocked by how sharp the bartender was, Black said “No, I’m not an officer of the law. And I may know of someone who is selling if the right one is buying but F.Y.I, he never been robbed in his life! Ya feel me ma?” La-La looked at his facial expression and knew that individual wasn't someone to sleep on, but still she tried to save face when she nonchalantly said, “Sounds like some shit Jay-z said in one of his raps!! Aaiight then, well that dude that Shay just passed those two bottles of roset moet to at the far end of the bar, is “Stinka”. He's about his money in a major way and he known to always look for a cheaper price on anything. Motherfucka a 100 grand nigga and think he gon' fuck me and shay with some IHOP and tickets to the Clipse concert in Downtown Norfolk. They his peoples and Pharell his right hand man too but we aint sucking and fucking nobody for some pancakes and two tickets. Now if it was four tickets! I don’t know!!.”
They both busted out laughing. “But nah, anyway if you know a good connect with decent numbers, you might wanna start with that nigga but be easy for now cause you see that kobe Bryant looking muthafucka?? That's stinka's main connect “Sergio”! Some people say he the heaviest muthafucka in Portsmouth. I heard he was related to Big Meech, from The B.M.F family down in ATL. So if you wanna get at stinka bout them numbers and live to see N.Y again? Wait til he goes to the bathroom or hope Serge leaves before he do or something… I don’t know! Shit!! But like I said, That’s a good place to start baby”. Black passed her a Benjamin and said “Get me two more of everything you just brought me and get yaself a Madori Sour on me…. And put the change in ya pocket friend. Here’s my number in case ya’ll do decide to let me know…. You know!!” La-La just smiled.
(Over in the VIP Section)
“So stinka, hows life treating you cuzzo? From that 6-series parked outside, looks to me like shit’s sweet money for you right now! How ya little man Kamari doing?” Stinka responded “Damn Serge, you’s a funny ass nigga! Yeah, Kamari just getting fat as can be and with that last shit you threw me, I can't say I’m hurting right now but its always from for more "guap". I wanna have it to the point where I got apartments with bedrooms stack with pallets of saran wrapped bricks of money, Naaaamean?” Serge almost choked off his moet when he laughed and said, “Nigga! What about yo' stash house out Coleman place over on Nevada with all the rooms filled up from the ground to the windows with hefty bags full of 20’s, 50’s, and benjamins?” Stinka held his head low as he replied, "yeah but they ain't sittin' on pallets tho!!" Serge and stinka laughed their asses off for about 5 minutes straight.
Serge cut it short when he said, “So what you want to see ya boyzee for anyway? You aint having no problems with that last shit I sent you, is you?" Stinka said “Nah, nah, in fact my peoples should’ve put two Louis “V” bags in the back of ya neon about 10 minutes ago if you left ya back doors unlocked liked I told you to. Why you be whipping that ugly ass “high school driving class” car any muthafuckin' way? That aint even ya flavor Serge!” Trying not to sound redundant, Serge replied, “Because I’m 34 and I like my freedom! Shiiiit! And this my last shot to move from the Semi-pros to the NBA. I told ya ass a long time ago to fly under the radar but ya'll youngans like to show that ya'll full up, “Not just be Full up!” Man! I aint 22 wit' ESPN sucking my dick like muthafuckin' Jamie Pounds! I had to throw up 40 stacks to that Washington Wizards scout just to bring the Fuckin' Charlotte Bobcats scout wit' him to my game tomorrow night at the Scope Coliseum. You coming to support ya boyzee right? I hope it aint just all business between us man!" Stinka replied, “Man, you made me a thousandnaire. Of course it’s way more than just business between us my baby! I’ma bring my jumpoff Natalie with us for you. You said that you wanted to see where her head game was at anyway so right after them scout niggas get off ya dick at the game?, shorty-wop gon’ put her mouth "ON" yo shit my nigga!” Serge just smiled and said “That’s what it is then baby-boy. Well I’m out, but I’ma call you if something come up. Wifee want some “ I’m pregnant with yo' baby so you betta' console me” time. You now how that shit is. Go head and give the rest of my Roset to one of the shorties that's been eyeballin us the whole time we been sitting here, you know how we do baby! I’m out my nigga!
As serge exited Martini Blue, Stinka called over a couple females he noticed staring at him before and finished off the two bottles of Moet before leaving them and finding a seat at the Bar near La-La and the dude that he noticed watching him when he was talking to Serge........
(Back at The Bar)
As Stinka sat at the bar for a minute, Black said to the bartender, “Let me and my friend here get two shots of Remy”. Stinka took the shot and said “good lookin homey! So what’s ya M.O and why was you staring at me and my mans a little earlier?" Black replied “A little of this, a little of that!! And I know money when I see it. Real recognize real my dude! And from what I’m hearing in the streets, you dat nigga to get with”. Sounding far from flattered, Stinka said “You mean from what La-La’s talkative ass told you! That bitch don’t know how to keep shit to herself but I still love her sexy money hungry, juicy booty having ass. Ain't that right La-La?” Trying to act like she didn’t hear Stinka’s remark, she just flicked him off and kept doing what she was doing, refilling the Grey Goose bottles with cheap, rock gut Vodka.
Stinka continued by saying “So what does some of this and that involve and how can it help me? Im assuming that's ya angle so lets get right to it cause if La-La felt you was the peoples, she would’ve made sure this seat wasn’t occupied by me! So whats good N.Y?” Black told him his name and how long he’d been in town then started to explain his motives. “What if I told you I could supply you with a better quality for a better number? How much you getting ya wings for?” Knowing that Sergio charged 16 g’s for each bird, Stinka saw a sweeter situation. “I get em’ for 13-5. Im in a good friendship right now and not too many can top that. Can you?”
Black, seeming unfazed said “I know a certain somebody that wants to make friends with the right cat for 11-5 and its “Fishscale”. Stinka liked what he heard but didn’t wanna seam too eager so he said “Well gimme ya number and I'ma let you know what’s poppin'. Im out! I got things to see and people to do. La-La!!! Get homey over here and bottle of Roset on me and keep the change.” Stinka dropped two c-notes, took blacks number, and walked away from the bar and out the door.......
Lunch trays had just come though the chuck-hole and the inmates were acting like the deputies had the whole block on Ramadan. All of a sudden, the entry cages closed and the main door opened. With his blue-bag filled with a blanket, two sheets and a “2” inch thick mat in hand, Ronnie Watson stepped through the loudly slammed door and into the entry cage. “Back in this motherfucka again over some petty shit”, he mumbled to himself. “I’m in here for spitting on my baby-mama and they got me on the 7th floor with all da' murderers, stick-ups kids, and rapists." All he could do was sarcastically laugh.
But with a criminal history that read- Malicious Wounding, Extortion, Kidnapping, Possession of a firearm in the commission of a felony, Attempted Murder, and Assault on a police officer, he knew why a misdemeanor got him "duct taped" to the most dangerous floor which the inmates labeled the “Gladiator floor”. They called it the Gladiator floor because once that caged is closed behind you, fist fights were a matter-of-time sort of thing and mob-assaults were the normal routine. It was once said that out of the 400 inmates on the 7th floor, only 4% had bail bonds they could post to be released from jail until trial. Probably why the title "penitentiary floor" was its other nickname. Fortunately for Ronnie or “Watts” as the streets called him, the jail house magistrate gave him one. Now all he had to do was kiss ass and apologize (not to mention-convince his "B.M" to fuck and suck $9,000 out of her friend with benefits and Mob Piru Supreme, "Lil Blood").
Walking from cell to cell toward the showers and back, Watts was disappointed he didn’t know any of the inmates from "the land"(out in the streets) but was even more grateful he didn’t see any old enemies or victims of "stings" as far as he could remember. And doing robberies or “licks” or “stings” as the hood called it, you had to have a memory bank like a Macintosh computer. As he put his bag down, the deputy brought in his plastic “Stack-A-Bunk” which were 1 inch thick plastic, canoe-shaped beds, which didn’t do much to support the 2 inch blue mat he came in the cell block with. “Thanks for the next to nothing motherfucka”, he mumbled under his breath. “Don’t get locked up; you fucking convict”, replied the skinny red-neck deputy. He moved his blue bag and dropped the tall, bulky, stack-a-bunk on the floor by the toilet in the day room, which was only 9x30 foot space for the inmates to watch T.V and eat meals on the steel picnic bench and table welded to the jailhouse bars.
All the huts were occupied and this was the only place to sleep. As he unpacked and started dressing the blue mat to lay on, a voice said “Them bitch-ass Deps always trying to pull rank; mad cause they wasn’t blue enough to make the force”. Watts looked up to see who was talking to him. Though he didn’t see a face to go with the voice, he knew it was coming from the hut closest to the entry cage. A short and stocky, pretty-boy, with the waves spinning type nigga approached him. As he extended his hand, he said “wuddup Phew? Name"s Disco”. Ronnie reached his hand out to dap him up and say “They call me Ronnie” but studdered when he released Disco’s hand and noticed a small piece of folded paper left in his palm. By the time he looked up, Disco was already walking away. As he layed back on his stack-a-bunk, he discreetly unfolded the kite that Disco passed him. It read “Get at me in a half”, “I’ma have my celly go play some chess or something- he's known for earhustling”. Gathering his thoughts together, he wondered “who the fuck is this nigga?” and more importantly “how can I get the fuck up out this bitch and away from niggas like this fake-ass friendly motherfucka?”
With twenty-minutes gone by attempting to get in contact with cats back on the land with money to spare, Watts tried his baby-mother (Bianca) but was just irritated even more when she answered the phone but wouldn’t accept the collect call. Laughing to himself, he thought “well, I guess getting her to pay my cell phone bill is outta the motherfucking question. Man, fuck that slut-bucket” he said to himself, “That’s why I’m fucking her first cousin now! Cause her ass in da way with dat' bullshit”. As he walked down to Disco’s hut, he noticed random people staring at him. Some were even gritting on him but he tried his best not to let it get to him. Once he reached Disco’s cell, he noticed the cell mate previously in the hut with Disco, was now in the day room talking shit to his opponent as they played chess. “Have a seat on the toilet; you good my G”, he told the physically fit, cut-up stranger standing in his door way.
As he attempted to pass Watts an oatmeal cake and a pack of Ramen Noodles, Ronnie stood up with a mean-mug look on his face. “I don't know what the fuck you thought but I ain't no motherfucking gump ass nigga.” Disco just started laughing then said, “Save that shit for when you take that ride to Greenville or wherever they shippin' ya ass off to homey; I was just trying to look out for a nigga.” All Ronnie could say was “Damn! My bad, my bad.” Disco asked him, “What? I know this ain't ya first bid!” Watts replied, “Nah, but you know how shit get around about 8/11, and last time I was in 7E? They put a couple gumps in the block. These motherfuckas had titties and all yo...” Disco laughed a little more and said “nah, they put the gumps in P.C. now cause niggas kept beating the shit outta em'. But nah, I seen you around back on the land n’ shit. You got a baby by light-skinned Bianca from out Lincoln Park in P-town, don’t you? Shocked that he knew so much but not surprised that Disco knew his money-chasing ass baby-mother, Ronnie just said “yeah, its that bitch fault I’m in here now; trying to act like she can't accept my fucking phone calls, bird ass bitch! But anyway, wuddup? I read that kite you passed me". Speaking a little more quiet than before but with a more serious look on his face, Disco said “Nah, I just wanted you to see shit pop off from a ring side seat instead of being a statistic”.
Observing the block, they noticed one minute everyone had on shower shoes and the next, about 8 of them had on their sneakers with shoe laces made from ripped up bed sheets. Watts had seen this before in 7E when some loud mouth New Yorkers were placed in the block. Four inmates seemed to consistently walk closer and closer, back and forth near two individuals making phone calls and whispering to each other. You could tell they knew what was about to go down because the fat one had two pencils taped together in his hand with one of those “ I wish-a-nigga would” looks on his face. He must have had a genie by the ear because out of nowhere, all 8 inmates just started beating blood from both of them. The fat one got stabbed in the jaw with the same pencil he had in his hand while blood was gushing from the smaller one’s face. There was so much blood oozing out, you couldn’t tell whether more blood was spilling from his right eye socket or his mouth. They punched and stomped them for fifteen minutes straight before the turtles bum-rushed the block with tazors and paint guns filled with rubber bullets; them shits will have a nigga on the 8th floor, up in medical, in a heartbeat. Watts later found out the cats doing the lenching were Mob Piru Bloods from Ocean View and the victims were Hoover Crips from Park Place. As both parties were escorted out the block and on their way to the hole, Disco said to one of the bloods, “let fam-fam know it's already on the books”. The gang-banger responded, “Sooo Woooooop” as he walked hand-cuffed out the door.
Watts didn’t catch on then but once the block ear hustler filled in all the blanks while Disco was asleep, it made sense. Apparently, Disco had a bit of a grudge towards the Crips every since the O.G of the Park Place Chapter scored 4 bricks of “Fishscale” cocaine from him with $75,000 in counterfeit money. It was said that after that, a lot of guerilla stick up crews saw disco as “food” or easy prey. What they forgot was that money buys friends and protection but even more so, it pays for assaults by mobs and many murder-for-hires. It was around 3:50 when watts saw a hall trustee that he knew from the streets named “Cowboy.” Cowboy was a known klepto from Young's Park projects in Norfolk, Va. An old saying stuck with him (If it ain't cemented to the ground, thieving ass Cowboy somewhere around). “You back in here again phew?" said the chubby trustee who at 29, looked twice his age. Watts just shook his head with a smirk. “Hell yeah, over some bullshit with Bianca. I fucked round and spit in that bitch face and she pressed charges against my ass. And you know they pulled me in on that "Q.T click" shit back in 95’ so I'm on the 7th floor even if it’s a weed charge. But what's the dozen cousin? How long you got left?" Cowboy said, “one more week phew! But I ain't in no rush, shiiiiit, you know that nigga C-low put 8 stacks on my head after I sent these Chesapeake cats up in his baby-mama spot and they hit him for about 70-75 g’s. Them cocksuckers said they ain't get shit but 2 camcorders and a Chinchilla out that bitch. Next time I see the ring leader named Wink, he pushing a 2011 BMW 760 on Giavannis. He got the nerve to tell me that one of his "jump offs" got a $20,000 loan from Navy Federal Credit Union and bought it for him. I wanted to stick my pocket knife through the window of that shit and stab him right in his fuckin' face but I know he would’ve popped me dead in my ass with that Desert Eagle he had in his passenger seat. So you know, I held my tongue, yeah, I held my tongue! But when he pulled off? I was calling him all kinds of punk bitches and mother F’ers”. Watts just laughed. “Damn Smokey, why you ain't put me and my boys on that one? You normally hunting me down to give me and my peoples the drops on these niggas!”.
Feeling embarassed and frustrated at the same time, Cowboys replied "man, I-own-know! They was around and I knew they was the type to go get that paper. I got something for they ass though! One of the niggas in winks crew is down on the 5th floor in the "Bama cell". He caught a dope charge but the Crips smacked him in the face with a dinner tray and made him drink shit and piss water. I'm the food trustee for that floor too. I put some rat poison in a lotion bottle when I was down in the kitchen, before I came to this floor”. Suddenly the red-neck deputy appeared, looking impatient. As cowboy started to walk off, he said “I'm out my nigga, faggot ass Dep' acting like I'm getting paid for this shit. But yo! Get at that chess playing ass nigga, he’ll fill you in on everybody in the block, nosey motherfucka! And don’t tell nobody what ya "M.O." is or what you in here for. Niggas jumping on cases like it ain't shit. You know the line these cops be throwing at these snitch ass niggas…… why do five when you can give ten to a friend”.
As the trustee was outta his peripheral, Watts just shook his head and walked over to watch the two cats still at it with the chessboard. Disco’s cellmate said “you play young blood?”. Watts just nodded but never looked up as he seriously focused on each players’ moves. “What’s ya name young blood? They call me “Unk”. Ronnie finally looked up and said “Damn, my bad, I was zoning the fuck out for a minute. My name’s Watts”. The other guy said “What’s poppin buzzin, they call me…….”. Unk cut him off in the middle of his sentence “checkmate little ass nigga, step ya game up before you come talk to Unk”. This my little protégé lil Harvey. I’m trying to school him to this "chess shit" but I see he ain't learned "jack shit". Class dismissed mothafucka, let me see where young blood chess game at. I got some kicking it for you later”. Harvey got up from the metal picnic bench and said “yeah I need some get-back anyway you old snagga-tooth muthafucka". Unk just laughed at him as he walked off mad.
While they were setting up, Watts asked unk, "whats up with niggas in this block?" Unk replied “well, last summer it was 7D that had all the go-gettas and supplies like roll-up cigarettes, mash, and 3-way shots to the land but now its all about 7G or "7Gangsta" as we like to call it. Aaiiight, class in session! Listen up cause I’ma only do this once. Niggas don’t take too kind to mutherfuckas lookin' at em' whispering to each other. That’s what got "fight night" started in the first place …. I’ll tell you about that in a minute but anyway, like I was saying…. In hut one and two you got the “Piru Bloods.” They dem' nigga sthat just got yanked up for doing disco’s dirty work; Harvey the last one left in the block!. That nigga Disco’s money spread all over the 7th and 5th flo! But anyway, where was I? oh yeah! In hut 3, you got Harvey on the bottom left rack and the rest of the cats in his hut some coc'd out plucks from uptown. In hut four, it’s Rome, Billy, and the Sarge. They call him the Sarge cause he used to be an Army Seargant. I heard Judge Griffith gave his ass 35 yrs. for beating his 13 yr old daughter to death after he found out she got pregnant by the neighbors husband. Right now, he 6 and 0 in Friday fight night so don’t come at the nigga sideways. “Shit” he told the whole block that he was gon’ be callin' niggas out until he takes that ride to the pen. That’s why its only 3 niggas in that 4-man hut; cause he don’t like nobody climbing over him or having their feet hanging by his head. “And at 5'8 in my condition, who da' fuck am I to complain? Billy guns is supposed to be some old trigger happy hot head from Berkeley that ran with the Sarge’s son and Rome is Billy’s Stickman/Hitman in training so the Sarge lets them niggas live. But I did see the Sarge choke Rome’s Ass out one morning for leaving a nut-stain on one of his “Smooth” magazines. Billy couldn’t save his ass that morning.
In hut “5”, you got some outtatown stragglers. Two from B-more, fighting a state and federal case for trafficking two bricks of heroin down here. I heard one of them was a first cousin to one of them “Druid Hill, Droopy hills??”. Watts smirked and said "Dru Hill!!". Unk replied “Yeah, that motherufucka too, I don’t fucking know! Anyway the other two young bloods in there with them, don’t talk much so I aint got the drop on them yet but the way they be on the phone crying, I’m positive this is their first time in 811 cause them lil niggas act like they scared to speak and speak cause they scared. Lil Harvey and his blood homies used to have a ball with them two on canteen day. But they’ll be aaaiight.
In hut “6:” you got Tink, New York, English, and Ramel. Tink bout to take that ride for the 3rd time on a probation violation. He been plotting on calling out the Sarge this Friday for fight night but don’t know that the sarge already caught wind to that shit so he probably gon’ swallow a couple teeth before Friday even get here just for telling somebody his plan. New York and English from up top; New York from Queensbridge. That nigga a little too sneaky for his own good. He ain't gon' make it to his next birthday if he keep thinking Virginia niggas is country and slow. English was born in London, England but raised in Flatbush Brooklyn. I thought the niggas was frontin' cause he say that he ran with Haitian Jack, King Tut, and Jimmy Henchman’s crew but word on the street is that the nigga stories is official. They say that him and his peoples was some of the first to bring powder and crack out Foundation Park and Oakleaf Park back in the late 80's, early 90's. And Ramel? I don’t like that little Fucka! He thinks he’s the hardest thing walkin' in 811. But he was quietest kept when them two crip niggas got their asses molly-whopped. I heard him say that them hoover crip niggas aint got shit to do wit' his chapter, the Rolling 60’s Crips so that was their problem, not his. The lil motherfucka only 17 and got a mouth like he 10yrs older than that. He didn’t even come out his hut when them two crips was getting fucked up. He don’t know it but lil Harvey talking about strapping up and doing the do to his lil ass and I can't wait to see it, “shit” I even gassed him up a little to do it. I'm jumping off the subject though.
In hut 7 and 8, you got some of the original members of the "22 Posse". They was this big time gang before your time from Foundation Park out Chesapeake. I heard they brought them back from different Prisons and State farms on new drug and murder indictments. I heard 13 of em' came back to 811. I’m just surprised that they put 8 of em’ in one block but then again this is 7gangsta so who knows! I don’t talk to them motherfuckas though, they too secretive for me and they stick together. One of em’ named Packo? Had the nerve to tell me to stop asking questions about them. Can you believe that bullshit? And he was married to my sister back in 89’!! Ain't that some shit? Anyway, hut “9” is Mikey Dred’s and Jersey’s hut. It’s a 4-man cell but the two cats that was sleeping on the top bunks in there both beat their own “M” charge so a couple "nobodies" that was sleeping in the dayroom, moved in there. No need to fill you in on some nobodies cause really, they just in the way and taking up space. Mikey Dred is from Kingston but was staying in Alexandria moving major weed to them Northern Virginia hustlas and them D.C niggas. Shit, I’m 58 and I lived in Norfolk all my life and I heard about that nigga down here back in 83’. And Jersey is from Newark but was moving weight in West Virginia before he migrated to Newport News and opened shop on them Jefferson Ave. niggas. You know that shit wasn’t gonna last long! I be trying to tell these outta towners shit ain't sweet like it seems on them post cards! Mikey Dred and Jersey both fighting “M” Charges. When the other two cats that left was still fighting their murder charges, Hut “9” was known as “Murders Row”. We call Mikey Dred “Lenox” cause he a serious nigga with a crew connected to the Shower Posse back in Jamaica.
And finally, you got Hut “10”. Hut “10” only got two beds in it and it's bigger than the 4-man huts. Its also the closest to the exit. People look at that on some symbolic, sentimental shit. It’s also Disco’s and my hut. Me? I been in this motherfuckin' block longer than any of these niggas. I'm also a Jailhouse lawyer, I cornrow heads for canteen, and I got roll-ups and weed if you smoke. I move the shit for Disco’s younger brother Stinka. Now that's a loony motherfucka!! Right now I'm working on Disco’s P.W.I.D (Possession.With. Intent. to Distribute.) charge and his Possession of a firearm in the commission of a felony charge. They snagged him up at the 7-11 across from Norfolk State University with a chopper in the trunk and 3 O’s of “Boy” in the Armrest of his Porche. I found two ways to beat his cases for $45 bucks worth in canteen and he paying some big shot lawyer 42g’s to tell him to take a fuckin' plea, knowing damn well Disco got 2 strikes against him and they gon' oil his ass up if he gets convicted on this one. Norfolk wants him so bad because they never could give him the time he deserved and what they really want is to tie him to the dead bodies he was “allegedly” paying for”. Watts could see that he had almost bucked on the wrong nigga.
Unk continued explaining. “If the boys get him, they think he’ll roll over on his lil brother. Now that motherfucka quick to lay that “Murder Game” down, even in broad day. This nigga got like “27” bodies and aint once been even questioned by the cops. Not that any witness would make it to court anyway. That nigga like the Wayne Perry of Norfolk and Big Bro Disco the Southside’s Alpo without all that snitching shit. But on the Low-low, I heard he was moving work and passing info to….". Suddenly the two were interrupted by a loud “Oh Shit” and “Get this nigga off me”, followed by a “DEPUTEEE, DEPPPUTEEE”. When they turned and found out where the screams were coming from, they found Ramel on his back folded up with Lil Harvey standing over him, stomping his head into the concrete floor. Everyone just watched and laughed while Ramel got fucked up for a good 10 minutes straight. Unk even walked over with his cripple ass over and started kicking Ramel in his chest. It took another 5 minutes before the Sarge stopped the assault, picked Ramel off the ground, and toted him to his bed like a Groom carrying his bride over the thresh hold. The Sarge later said that he felt sorry for the lil dude.
Chapter 2: (That Same Night Across town at MARTINI BLUE Bar and Lounge)
Black had only been in town for 3 hrs. and he already had a drink in his hand. “Ayo Ma! Let me get another shot of Patron, a shot of Remy VSOP, and a Corona my baby!" The waitress replied, “You from New York, ain't you?” He laughed replied, "it’s written on my forehead-n-shit? But yeah, I’m from Harlem. Whats your name love? “ The Bartender smiled and said “Well my name’s La-La and Welcome to Martini Blue or the “Trapp” as all the go-gettas call it. I would say welcome to V.A but something tells me that this ain't your first, second, or third time touching down in the "7 cities”. Black just shook his head and said “Damn, Ma! What? You reading minds or something or you starting trouble for outta town niggas on the regular?”. Laughing a little, La-La replied “Nah baby, it ain't nothing like that. But like I said, this is the trap and you definitely don’t look like no real estate agent or construction worker. I got a keen eye for potential and you….". Black cut her off and said “ Potential what?” La-La replied, “If I decide to let you know, we’ll let you know”.
At that very moment, a voluptuous, caramel complexioned female with a flawless face, came out the kitchen and went behind the bar to start serving the overcrowded line of patrons waiting to be served. She squeezed past a-bent-over-the-counter La-La and said “Shay do this, shay do that!! And Baa! Why don’t you kiss the nigga, the way you all up in his face!!!” As shay went pass, La-La replied, “Girrrrl boo!!”. Black thought for a minute and said “What? That’s you?” La-La responded “Like I said, if I decided to let you know, we’ll let you know!!”. Black smiled, “So whats up wit the "Trap"? And who the movers and shakers in here?”. La-La replied, “well, in the daytime, we’re more like a Bar and Grill type of spot and 3 outta 5 weeknights, you got ya regular drinkers and bypassers. But on Thursday nights, its basically the mothafucking club and that goes for Friday and Saturday nights too. You see how crazy shit get in here, just look around!! And for that second question? You selling or buying and are you an officer of the law? You know, if you are, you have to tell the truth or otherwise that’s Entrapment”.
Black was offended and it showed when he replied, ”Nah, I ain't the fuckin' boys and….." La-La quickly interrupted him. “I didn’t ask you that, I asked you, is you an officer of the law so if that’s how I asked it, that’s how you respond to it!!” Sounding shocked by how sharp the bartender was, Black said “No, I’m not an officer of the law. And I may know of someone who is selling if the right one is buying but F.Y.I, he never been robbed in his life! Ya feel me ma?” La-La looked at his facial expression and knew that individual wasn't someone to sleep on, but still she tried to save face when she nonchalantly said, “Sounds like some shit Jay-z said in one of his raps!! Aaiight then, well that dude that Shay just passed those two bottles of roset moet to at the far end of the bar, is “Stinka”. He's about his money in a major way and he known to always look for a cheaper price on anything. Motherfucka a 100 grand nigga and think he gon' fuck me and shay with some IHOP and tickets to the Clipse concert in Downtown Norfolk. They his peoples and Pharell his right hand man too but we aint sucking and fucking nobody for some pancakes and two tickets. Now if it was four tickets! I don’t know!!.”
They both busted out laughing. “But nah, anyway if you know a good connect with decent numbers, you might wanna start with that nigga but be easy for now cause you see that kobe Bryant looking muthafucka?? That's stinka's main connect “Sergio”! Some people say he the heaviest muthafucka in Portsmouth. I heard he was related to Big Meech, from The B.M.F family down in ATL. So if you wanna get at stinka bout them numbers and live to see N.Y again? Wait til he goes to the bathroom or hope Serge leaves before he do or something… I don’t know! Shit!! But like I said, That’s a good place to start baby”. Black passed her a Benjamin and said “Get me two more of everything you just brought me and get yaself a Madori Sour on me…. And put the change in ya pocket friend. Here’s my number in case ya’ll do decide to let me know…. You know!!” La-La just smiled.
(Over in the VIP Section)
“So stinka, hows life treating you cuzzo? From that 6-series parked outside, looks to me like shit’s sweet money for you right now! How ya little man Kamari doing?” Stinka responded “Damn Serge, you’s a funny ass nigga! Yeah, Kamari just getting fat as can be and with that last shit you threw me, I can't say I’m hurting right now but its always from for more "guap". I wanna have it to the point where I got apartments with bedrooms stack with pallets of saran wrapped bricks of money, Naaaamean?” Serge almost choked off his moet when he laughed and said, “Nigga! What about yo' stash house out Coleman place over on Nevada with all the rooms filled up from the ground to the windows with hefty bags full of 20’s, 50’s, and benjamins?” Stinka held his head low as he replied, "yeah but they ain't sittin' on pallets tho!!" Serge and stinka laughed their asses off for about 5 minutes straight.
Serge cut it short when he said, “So what you want to see ya boyzee for anyway? You aint having no problems with that last shit I sent you, is you?" Stinka said “Nah, nah, in fact my peoples should’ve put two Louis “V” bags in the back of ya neon about 10 minutes ago if you left ya back doors unlocked liked I told you to. Why you be whipping that ugly ass “high school driving class” car any muthafuckin' way? That aint even ya flavor Serge!” Trying not to sound redundant, Serge replied, “Because I’m 34 and I like my freedom! Shiiiit! And this my last shot to move from the Semi-pros to the NBA. I told ya ass a long time ago to fly under the radar but ya'll youngans like to show that ya'll full up, “Not just be Full up!” Man! I aint 22 wit' ESPN sucking my dick like muthafuckin' Jamie Pounds! I had to throw up 40 stacks to that Washington Wizards scout just to bring the Fuckin' Charlotte Bobcats scout wit' him to my game tomorrow night at the Scope Coliseum. You coming to support ya boyzee right? I hope it aint just all business between us man!" Stinka replied, “Man, you made me a thousandnaire. Of course it’s way more than just business between us my baby! I’ma bring my jumpoff Natalie with us for you. You said that you wanted to see where her head game was at anyway so right after them scout niggas get off ya dick at the game?, shorty-wop gon’ put her mouth "ON" yo shit my nigga!” Serge just smiled and said “That’s what it is then baby-boy. Well I’m out, but I’ma call you if something come up. Wifee want some “ I’m pregnant with yo' baby so you betta' console me” time. You now how that shit is. Go head and give the rest of my Roset to one of the shorties that's been eyeballin us the whole time we been sitting here, you know how we do baby! I’m out my nigga!
As serge exited Martini Blue, Stinka called over a couple females he noticed staring at him before and finished off the two bottles of Moet before leaving them and finding a seat at the Bar near La-La and the dude that he noticed watching him when he was talking to Serge........
(Back at The Bar)
As Stinka sat at the bar for a minute, Black said to the bartender, “Let me and my friend here get two shots of Remy”. Stinka took the shot and said “good lookin homey! So what’s ya M.O and why was you staring at me and my mans a little earlier?" Black replied “A little of this, a little of that!! And I know money when I see it. Real recognize real my dude! And from what I’m hearing in the streets, you dat nigga to get with”. Sounding far from flattered, Stinka said “You mean from what La-La’s talkative ass told you! That bitch don’t know how to keep shit to herself but I still love her sexy money hungry, juicy booty having ass. Ain't that right La-La?” Trying to act like she didn’t hear Stinka’s remark, she just flicked him off and kept doing what she was doing, refilling the Grey Goose bottles with cheap, rock gut Vodka.
Stinka continued by saying “So what does some of this and that involve and how can it help me? Im assuming that's ya angle so lets get right to it cause if La-La felt you was the peoples, she would’ve made sure this seat wasn’t occupied by me! So whats good N.Y?” Black told him his name and how long he’d been in town then started to explain his motives. “What if I told you I could supply you with a better quality for a better number? How much you getting ya wings for?” Knowing that Sergio charged 16 g’s for each bird, Stinka saw a sweeter situation. “I get em’ for 13-5. Im in a good friendship right now and not too many can top that. Can you?”
Black, seeming unfazed said “I know a certain somebody that wants to make friends with the right cat for 11-5 and its “Fishscale”. Stinka liked what he heard but didn’t wanna seam too eager so he said “Well gimme ya number and I'ma let you know what’s poppin'. Im out! I got things to see and people to do. La-La!!! Get homey over here and bottle of Roset on me and keep the change.” Stinka dropped two c-notes, took blacks number, and walked away from the bar and out the door.......
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