Читать книгу Get Down or Lay Down - Derrick MD Johnson - Страница 6

Quarter Man was sitting on the front porch for what seemed like hours waiting on the rest of the crew to arrive for their daily session when from inside of the house Dig a Hole yells for him to open the back door for the guys. Security was a must when it came to the gatherings, solely because they were the outlaws of the city and were notoriously known for laying niggas down and taking whatever, from whomever, they wanted.

At one point every member of the Bogus-D-Siples was once part of an organized gang ranging from GD, Vice Lords, Crips, and Bloods. One particular member of the gangs stood out, one who was different. He was extremely vicious and was always in disagreement with the laws and policies to which the gang was suppose to adhere. Never the one to accept the violations for his actions, he became looked upon as an outcast. Feeling as though the gangs never were originally from his city anyway, he secretly held the desire to rid the city of the outsiders, whom he considered to be leeches that were there to rape his city of its riches and take control of the streets he was raised on.

Patiently waiting for the right time paid off for Dig a Hole. One day after one of the gang’s meetings, he saw one of the head members take a huge bag and place it in the back of the trunk of his Mercedes. Not quite sure how the situation was going to play out, he knew this was his opportunity to make his move, and from this point on he was all in. Thinking fast he saw one of the shorty folks; one he knew kept a banger on him and was one of the many who were from Minneapolis who looked up to him and called him Uncle. He involuntarily involved shorty into his plot.

Laying in the cut like a bandaide, Dig a Hole instructed Quarter Man as to the part he was soon to play in the scheme. Patiently they waited on the chief Maurice to come back out of the building. Their wait wasn’t long.

Dig a Hole knew that Maurice wouldn’t be alarmed by Quarter Man’s presence, mainly because at seventeen he weighed a buck twenty soaking wet with the looks of a twelve-year-old. But in his case looks were deceiving. This was a killa; a young cat with no heart or remorse for anything or anyone. He was abandoned at the age of eleven and was adopted by the streets, learning that success of his survival consisted of taking what you want. At eleven he was left at home with an empty refrigerator and a nine shot 22 automatic pistol he stole form one of his mother’s many lovers. Filled with total bitterness and the will to survive, he left his home never to return, killing his first of many victims at the age of twelve.

Seeing the gangsta in him, Dig a Hole opened both his arms and houses to the young killer. It was an act of kindness that earned Quarter Man’s loyalty for life to the man he now considered his only family.

Upon seeing Quarter Man, coming out Maurice hollered, “What’s up Shorty Folks?”

“Shit. Just waiting on my mans to come out,” Quarter Man replied.

“Who’s that?” Maurice asked, still heading towards his car.

Noticing Maurice not paying any attention to his surroundings, Dig a Hole emerged from the side of the building. Still talking to Quarter Man, Maurice opened his trunk. At this point Quarter Man pulled out the 40 Glock he had concealed in his waistband.

Speaking slowly, he told him to simply “get in the trunk.”

Walking up to him, Dig a Hole saw a slight hesitation in Maurice’s actions and immediately took control of the situation. He apprehended the pistol and smacked him upside the head saying, “Get the fuck in the trunk bitch.”

Hesitating is what cost him his life. Not one to repeat himself, Dig a Hole put one in his head and watched him slump over into the trunk.

Looking back at Quarter Man he shouted, “Hurry up and stuff the rest of the body in the trunk.” He almost gave him another dome shot when a nerve made Maurice’s leg kick back outside the trunk. Quickly putting it back inside, they hurriedly jumped into the Benz riding off, knowing their actions was going to cause an all out war, one that neither knew how they were going to win, but both were ready and willing to ride or die for their act of Bogusness.

Weeks had passed and no one seemed to know what happened to Maurice. Many had their suspicions due to the fact that the content in the trunk was ten keys of heroin, leaving many of the local dealers drugless. Mysteriously, the powerful drug started to filter back into the streets: only the distributor wasn’t the usual one who dispersed the drug. It was Dig a Hole who now controlled the flow of heroin in the city, at least for the time being.

Knowing that he had the only weight in the city he took full advantage and served it raw and damn near uncut. As a result he had every dope fiend north, south and even from St. Paul coming to his spot for their fix. The only way the other dealers were able to cop from him was to pay his prices, and they weren’t cheap. In his mind, they deserved to be treated this way because they had no problem paying the out-of-town boys the ticket they charged, so why accept less?

Now having interactions with all the different gangs, Dig a Hole took advantage of the opportunity to watch and observe the various members of the opposing groups, knowing that it would only be a matter of time before everyone put it together that he was responsible for the stolen shipment and Maurice’s death.

Recognizing this, he began to assemble his own click to not only distribute his drugs, but to literally take over the whole fucken city. After thoroughly thinking out his plans he set forth the action to make them a reality.

Because he was from Minnesota he was pretty familiar with the other people from various gangs. Already knowing the riders, he started recruiting them individually with the lure of his riches and the chance to do what they wanted, how they wanted, and to whom they wanted.

After several tests he narrowed the group down to eight people ready to chase the fast cash by all means necessary. His team of eight niggas was ready to give the streets of Minneapolis the bizness! This was the start of how eight hood niggas took over an entire city.