The plan was simple.

 

Do one more job and then we’d go our separate ways. Life would be simple and me, a hood bitch from Atlanta, would get to run away with the girl of my dreams.

 

So why am I covered in blood? Why am I surrounded by money I ain’t gonna ever get a chance to spend? And why is my sister, the one who I would give my life for responsible for all this shit?

 

I guess we all got a story, huh? You ain’t lived a good life unless somebody can look at you and say one of two things. That bitch lived hard and will never be forgotten or I ain’t trying to turn out like her.

 

For me, I guess, they gonna say both.