| |
Kesha pulled up inside of the parking lot and looked out of the front passenger window, just as Te’Qui was. At the end of their line of vision was a big bald headed ass nigga in an all red suit that looked something like the one Neo wore in The Matrix Reloaded movie. He was posted up beside a black on black Cadillac Escalade truck on some big ass chrome rims. Posted at the grill of the SUV was a tall cat, dressed in all black. He wore his hair in short twisties and had a goatee that outlined his mouth perfectly. He wore a serious face, and appeared to be keeping an eye on everything surrounding him. Homie was wearing a black bandana tied around his head, Tupac style, and black shades. His slightly muscular frame filled out a black wife beater, which he wore under a black jean jacket. Although Te’Qui couldn’t see the burna for himself, he knew he was packing heat because he was Big Will’s bodyguard, Drama.
“That big Suge Knight looking nigga is who you ‘pose to be meeting with up here?” Kesha looked to her man.
“Yeah, that’s Big Will, pull up over there by ‘em.” Te’Qui told her, eyes still on Big Will.
“Alright.” she said, turning around inside of the parking lot and pulling up two parking spots down from Big Will’s truck.
“Bae, you good?” Kesha asked Te’Qui just as he was about to jump out of the car.
“’Sup?” he looked over his shoulder at her.
“You want me and my friend to roll witchu?” she tapped her purse, referring to her gun she’d brought along just in case some shit cracked off at this little meeting of his.
Te’Qui chuckled and said, “Nah, baby. It’s all good.” he kissed her on the lips and then hopped out. Unbeknownst to him, Kesha was still eyeballing him and holding onto her purse. If drama arose, she was putting some holes in Will’s big ass.
“Big mothafuckin’ Will, what’s brackin’ witchu, Blood?” Te’Qui slapped hands with the big man and patted him on the back.
“Ain’t shit. Maintainin’. You know how I do.”
“Right, right, right.” he nodded.
“You remember Drama, right?” Big Will nodded to his bodyguard.
“Yeah, I remember, Blood.” Te’Qui turned to him. Throwing his head back, he said, “’Sup with it, homie?”
Drama looked Te’Qui up and down, then turned back to his scanning of the parking lot.
“Don’t mind ‘em. He’s the strong silent type.”
“Sho’ you right.” Te’Qui said, still staring at the side of Drama’s face. He did his homework on the OG killa. He was a sixty-five-year-old cat, and was in excellent shape, for a man his age. Let the streets tell it, and Drama made his bones knocking off niggaz for mafia big wigs back in the day. There wasn’t a dome he wouldn’t split for the right change. The only reason he slowed down on the murder shit was because his nephew, Big Will, pulled him in off the streets to become his bodyguard and chauffeur. Still, every now and then the CEO of Hood Rich Records would let him bust his gun whenever there was some mothafucka that just couldn’t seem to get right.
Big Will took a breath before going on to say what was on his mind. “I gotta situation that requires yo’ level of expertise.” he told him straight like that.
“Oh, yeah, what’s that?” Te’Qui asked as he made a serious expression and rubbed hands together in anticipation of what he had to say.
“First off, I told you I was gon’ hit chu off with a somethin’ ‘fore meetin’ up with me, so limme gon’ and get that out the way.” Big Will took a brief look around the parking lot and pulled out a folded manilla envelope that had a thick stack of money impression on it. He then passed it to Te’Qui on the sneak.
Te’Qui stuck the manilla envelope into the small of his back, looking around to make sure there wasn’t anybody watching him.
“Good lookin’ out.” Te’Qui dapped up the giant.
“Don’t mention it.” Big Will told him. “But, look, you know I got my own indie label, Hood Rich Records.”
“Yeah, man, y’all doin’ y’all thang out here, for real, for real.” he folded his arms across his chest, nodding his head. “Salute to yo’ team and y’all success.” he saluted him.
“That’s love; appreciate that shit, especially with all of these hating ass niggaz out here.”
“Oh, most def’.”
“Anyway, man, my artist, the biggest artist on my label, Killa Tay. Well, Blood, got jumped and robbed of his shines.”
“Onna real?” Te’Qui frowned up and angled his head. He couldn’t believe someone had the audacity to put hands on dude. He knew that whoever brought harm to him was going to pay their weight in flesh and blood, because what he gathered from his music and his persona, homie was one of the coldest gangstaz to have ever touched a microphone.
“Yeah, family, they done a real number on my nigga, too. Come here fa a second,” Big Will motioned for Te’Qui to follow him with his meaty hand. They made their way around the Escalade truck and stopped at the front passenger door. He knocked on the black tinted window. A moment later, the window descended, to display a light-skinned nigga that had been riding shotgun. The side of his face was swollen, his left eyelid was swollen shut, his lips were busted and he had black and blue bruising below both of his eyes. On top of that, his arm was in a sling. This was the multi-platinum recording artist, Killa Tay. And somebody had beaten the dog shit out of homie. He was so ashamed of his appearance that he couldn’t even look Te’Qui in the face.
“Damn, my nigga, who the fuck caught you down bad?” Te’Qui asked curiously, looking homeboy over. Seeing how fucked up he was made him mad for him. He just knew he was ready to soak the shirts of the bitch-made-ass niggaz that had pounded him out.
“I don’t know exactly, but them niggaz gotta pay. Mothafuckaz thinking it’s a joke wit’ me, homie. I want some get-back, and the big homie says you the one to get me just that.” Killa Tay looked to Big Will.
“Limme show you the footage these clown-ass niggaz posted up all over social media, dawg.” Big Will pulled out his cellular and pulled up footage on VladTv of Killa Tay getting stomped out and robbed for all of his jewelry.
Te’Qui watched as Killa Tay walked out of the Galleria Mall with shopping bags, heading towards his vehicle. Just as he reached his car, out of nowhere two dudes came out of nowhere. The larger of the two fired on Killa Tay. The swift blow sent the gangsta rapper spilling to the ground, spilling some of the contents out of his shopping bags. The nigga filming the whole shit hollered out ‘WorldStar’ as soon as the gangsta rapper was dropped. From there, the other masked fool joined the fray. Together, they stomped, kicked and punched the multi-platinum rhyme spitter. They snatched off all of his icy gold jewelry and his presidential Rolex watch. They then, grabbed his shopping bags and kicked him in his side as he struggled to get to his feet. The impact from the kick dropped him on his back, where he lay bloody and bruised. The nigga’z face looked like bloody hamburger meat and shit.
The nigga filming it all ran over to him and got a good close up of his face, telling anyone that would eventually view the footage what rapper it was that had just caught the L. Right after Killa Tay was stomped in the stomach, and the screen went black.
“You see that shit there, Blood? Mothafuckaz done my nigga dirty. This whole shit, makes my company look bad,” he put his cell phone back inside of his suit’s jacket. “So, I need for you, for a nice price of course, to make my company look good. You feel me?”
“Niggaz caught me lacking, but that shit won’t ever happen again though. That’s on mommas.” Killa Tay spoke up once again, holding up his Glock and wagging it. He then glanced in the sun-visor mirror to check out his wounds.
“Niggaz wouldn’t have caught chu lackin’ if you woulda took unc witchu, like I told you to. Instead of tryna play supa gangsta and shit.” Big Will frowned up at him. “I told you once you signed on that dotted line that cho life was finna change forever. You can’t be out in the streets, kickin’ it in the hood and in hole-in-the-wall fuckin’ clubs, when you done sold twenty million records and shit, dawg. Youa mothafuckin’ celebrity now, so these clout chasers, overzealous fans and goon-ass niggaz are gon’ be lookin’ to make yo’ ass go viral. But, nahhhh, yo’ hardheaded ass don’t wanna listen to me. You know every-fuckin’-thing, but I bet that ass listen now, though.”
“Whatever, Big Will, I’m not tryna hear that shit!” Killa Tay made a nonchalant face as he waved the boss of his record company off.
“Whatever, Big Will, my ass! I’ll tell you what, you gon’ and get cho ass smoked out here. Everybody knows a dead rapper makes mo’ money than an alive one anyway,” Big Will mad dogged Killa Tay as he slipped on a pair of shades, covering up his blackened eyes. Soon after, the gangsta rapper held down the button that made his window go back up. Once he’d done this, Big Will focused his attention back on Te’Qui. “Anyway, Blood, I need you to check these mothafuckaz for me, and get it all on video so we can upload the shit. I gotta show the world what happens when you put hands on one of mine, you feel me? I put my gangsta on the shelf once I started this label, but niggaz and bitchez gotta know I can pick it back up whenever need be.”
“You know where these niggaz hang at, Big?” Te’Qui posed the question as he folded his arms across his chest again.
“Yeah, I know where they at. Mothafuckaz onna Gram been hittin’ up Tay with some of everywhere these niggaz be at since the video went viral. I can give you this dumbass nigga’z password and shit,” the giant looked at the passenger side window that Killa Tay was behind, heatedly. He wanted to open the door and smack fire out of his smart mouth ass, but truth be told, he loved the young nigga. He wasn’t just his artist; he loved him like a brother. It hurt his heart having seen what those fool-ass niggaz had done to him at that parking lot at the mall. “So, you can hit the field with ‘em.”
“Alright, I can fuck with that.” he rubbed his hands together in anticipation.
“Cool. How much you tryna get for this work?” Big Will inquired as he took the time to pull out a big ass Cuban cigar and light it. He took a pull from the end of it, causing its tip to turn ember before blowing out a cloud of smoke. He then watched as Te’Qui massaged his chin, thinking of how much he should hit him over the head with for the job he was asking him to do.
“Hmmmm,” Te’Qui continued to massage his chin, as he stared out of the corner of his eyes, deep in thought. His mind was on what kind of time he’d be faced with if these fools he was going to holler at on the behave of Big Will decided to snitch on him, or if he got bagged by The Boys. Having finally coming up with a fitting price for the assignment, he dropped his hand at his side and addressed the giant. “Slide me a hunnit kay, big dawg.”
“Okay. You got that.” Big Will nodded. He didn’t even bat an eyelash as he agreed to Te’Qui’s payment. The young nigga gathered it was because he was a multi-millionaire, and one-hundred grand was a drop in the bucket to him. “I’ll hit chu with half of that tomorrow mornin’ and the other half once the job is done.”
“My nigga.” Te’Qui said in the same vain as Denzel Washington as he dapped up Big Will. “I’ll hit chu up with the address to the meet spot once I get back to the crib.”
“Fa sho’.” Big Will took another pull from his Cuban, causing smoke to waft around him. He then looked beside Te’Qui and waved at someone, smiling. When Te’Qui looked to see who he was waving at, he found Kesha. She had her eyes on him and her hand inside of her purse. “That’s yo’ queen, homie?” he asked Te’Qui about Kesha, pointing with the hand that held his cigar.
Te’Qui turned back around to Big Will and said, “Yeah, that’s my queen.”
“You keep that one, dawg; lil’ momma a rider, fa sho.” Big Will said. He’d noticed Kesha clocking him since she and Te’Qui had pulled up. This let him know that she was looking out for her man, and if some shit jumped off, she’d lay down that hold parking lot just to protect him. He had a wife that was ride or die just like that. He loved that gangsta love. To him, there wasn’t anything like it. Fuck what you heard!
“I already know. I’ma gon’ and get outta here, man. Shoot me ya man’s password and shit so I can get at these fool’s for y’all.” he slapped hands with Big Will and patted him on his back.
“I got chu.” Big Will watched as Te’Qui jumped into the front passenger seat and slammed the door shut. Right after, Kesha was driving off with him.
Big Will took another pull from his cigar and blew out a cloud of smoke. He then climbed inside of the Escalade truck. Drama slid in behind the wheel, cranked that big mothafucka up and drove out of Denny’s parking lot.