Читать книгу Crave All Lose All - Erick S. Gray - Страница 17

Nine

I waited for Tyriq on the corner of my block smoking a Black & Mild. It was boiling outside, and I felt like I was about to melt in my wife-beater, denim jeans, and timberlands. My mother’s words were eating me up on the inside as I waited for Tyriq to show. I had to do this one thing, make a couple thousands, put myself above water and shit.

Around six in the evening a burgundy Escalade pulled up.

“Get in, Vince,” Tyriq said.

I jumped in giving him dap and he pulled off. He was sporting a fresh throwback Bulls Jersey and a matching fitted.

“Damn, nigga, you don’t sleep, huh?” I joked.

“I’ll sleep when I dead,” he responded.

“Yo, I’m in,” I said feeling my heart race.

“Now you bout ya biz,” he nodded.

“I just need to make some quick paper, get me back on my feet and then I’m goin’ back to school,” I added.

“Yo, ain’t nuthin’ wrong wit’ that. I need some educated niggas having my back in this game. Yo, some of these young corner-niggas that I got workin’ for me, they bust guns and can hold it down. But when it comes to simple math and some intelligent shit, they dumb as rocks, Vince,” he stated.

We drove down Supthin Blvd.

“You hungry?” he asked.

“Nah, I’m good.”

“Ayyite, tonight I want you to meet some of the fellows.”

“That’s cool. But Tyriq, one thing, I don’t have shit wit’ this game. And I ain’t no killer. I just wanna make some money, that’s all. I ain’t out here trying to kill anybody.”

He stared at me before replying.

“What da fuck you mean you ain’t a killer? Shit Vince, everybody’s a killer. You just don’t know it yet.”

“What’d you mean by that?”

“Everybody’s got two fuckin’ sides to them…good, bad, slut, wifey… fuck it. Everybody’s got that twin self they try hard to contain. You just ain’t brought yours out yet.”

“What, you tryin’ to kick psychology now?”

“Ayyite, if a nigga come after you… better yet, if a nigga come after Chandra or your son, your mother, what you gonna do?”

I hesitated and Tyriq answered for me. “Yo, I tell you what you’re gonna do, Vince. You’re gonna take that nigga out before he come get at you and your fam. No doubt about that, right?”

I shrugged.

“You’d be a fool if you didn’t lay that nigga out. You feel me?”

“Yeah, I feel you.”

“That’s how it is with this game, Vince. If a nigga threatens your family, your money, your business, you gonna lay him down and make sure he stays down. That’s survival. That’s how it’s played out here, we family. We ride together and we die together. My shit is tight, ayyite? Strong, cuz out here, only the strong survives… ayyite? It’s like the jungle, Vince. We lions, the cannibals in this fuckin’ concrete jungle and them junkies, the competitors, the haters, and even five-o, are prey. They are weak. If they try to come at us on some disrespectful shit, we tear and shred them like muthafuckin’ lions in Africa. In this here game you better fuckin’ respect strong and hard, cuz if you don’t, then this shit is gonna come back and bite you on the ass… I came up in da game strong, cuz I put my heart into this shit. I don’t care if you’re peddling drugs on some dirty ass street corner day after day. Be the best hustler on that corner. Sell them rocks like your package is the last package on the earth. That’s what I expect. You do this with heart, go at it a hundred and ten percent or don’t do it at all. A hundred and ten percent…?” Tyriq asked.

“Yeah, my nigga I’m wit’ you,” I replied.

“Let’s go shopping, tonight, you rolling fresh.”

Tyriq, Spoon, and I got out of Tyriq’s new Yukon sitting on 24” spinning chromed rims. It felt so good, as the three of us approached Occasions on Merrick Blvd. Dressed in Jockey waffle crewneck shirt, denim jeans, and suede shoes, I was feeling like a don. Tyriq sported a Mitchell & Ness ‘65 Philadelphia 76ers jacket, denim jeans, and white Nikes. Spoon rocked a green Pelle Pelle jacket, T-shirt, matching limited edition Air Force Ones and Enyce sweat pants.

Hordes of people were waiting to get in. The ladies were all looking sexy. We walked through the thick crowd heading for the front. No one said a word to us. Two brawny bouncers let Tyriq and Spoon through immediately. It became a problem when I tried to follow.

“You gotta wait,” he told me in a stern voice, pushing me back.

“Tyriq, what’s good?” I called out.

“This Vince, he down,” Tyriq said.

“I’m sorry…ah, I didn’t know.” The bouncer nodded.

I eyed him as I passed. The nightclub was on and popping. Music bumping and the ladies were looking good. I followed closely behind Tyriq and Spoon to the VIP. where bottles of Cristal, Moet and beautiful women flooded the room.

I never experienced anything like this. The love and respect was overwhelming. Everyone greeted Tyriq, especially Spoon with mad love.

The ladies stuck to them like white on rice. I was excited but nervous. I knew a few but many didn’t know me. It was a new world for me.

Tip was clad in his usual wife-beater, flexing his biceps and having a shortie on his lap. I smiled when she started nibbling his ear.

Tyriq threw his arm around me, while clutching a bottle of Moet.

“Yo, this my nigga, Vince, right here. He’s family, ayyite? So y’all treat this nigga with respect.”

The deejay had the spot jumping with jams and I was right up on the ladies getting my game on.

During the course of the night, I became familiar with the crew and bitches. Tip, Killer Ty and Bones were Tyriq’s main enforcers. John-John, Malik, Red, Loc and Spoon were lieutenants.

John-John was a huge gorilla looking linebacker mutha fucka, who was six-three and two hundred and seventy-five pounds easy, with a lazy eye. Red, was a high yellow slim looking nigga with short curly hair. Malik was a stout looking muthafucka, with a thick black beard and heavily tattood. Loc was a light skinned, pretty boy. His hair was styled like Snoop Dogg and he had gray eyes.

Tyriq was lounging, sipping Cristal with a bitch. Tip walked over and whispered something in his ear. The look on Tyriq’s face changed. He got up with a sense of urgency.

“Yo, Tyriq, everything good…?” I asked when he was close to me.

“I gotta go handle sump’n. Enjoy yourself Vince,” he said rushing from the VIP with Tip, Killer Ty, and Bones following.