4

“Know you heard this before; never get high, on your own supply.”

—“Ten Crack Commandments,” Notorious B.I.G.

1987

The bass from the boom box radio that sat atop a milk crate spit vibrations through the air. It was the summer of ’87, and the weather was in the low eighties.

The new joint from Eric B. and Rakim blared from the speakers.

“This joint is ill right here!” Butter said. He’d finally been released from juvenile detention and Lil Nut had convinced him that it was better to make money instead of taking money. He bobbed his head hard to the beat of the rap that Rakim was spitting.

Butter, Fatman, and Lil Nut all stood on Rockaway and Pitkin Avenue. The Ave was busy since most were en route to and from their destinations. But Lil Nut and his crew were out there to sell crack.

The crew all bobbed their heads and rapped along with Rakim.

“That shit is sick right there!” Butter was amped. Eric B. and Rakim were his favorite rap duo. “I’m saying, can’t nobody get with them!” Butter continued to boast.

“You crazy as hell!” Fatman stepped up. “KRS One got that hands down.”

“What you been drinking? Lighter fluid? KRS One ain’t even in the same category as Rakim,” Butter defended.

“Naw, homeboy, I’m telling you,” Fatman countered.

Fatman wasn’t fat at all. He’d acquired the name when he was just a baby from his mother. He was a fat baby, so the name stuck.

Lil Nut looked over at the pair. Sitting on top of his broad nose was a pair of Cazal’s with the glass missing from the frames. You could see his gorgeous, expressive eyes sitting behind the frames. He sported a bubble Kangol hat.

He raised his now five-feet-ten-inch frame from the milk crate he had been sitting on. “Yo, y’all niggas kill that noise and get that dough,” he spit at the two.

Butter and Fatman simply looked at each other and walked over to the corner. As soon as they did several customers approached them and they began to do business.

Lil Nut looked up the street and his eyes narrowed as he squinted, trying to see who was approaching.

As the figure got closer he realized it was his new partner, Fuquan. Fuquan and Lil Nut had been friends since day one, but he had moved away a few years back to live with his father. He’d recently moved back into the neighborhood, and he and Lil Nut linked back up.

Since Fuquan came back, Lil Nut made him his partner in the booming crack business and they shared revenue. Lil Nut needed somebody watching his back, considering all the drama he’d recently been through. Last year was a trying time for him. His father was murdered and he had to kill his two former friends, Lamiek and Lite, and also his former boss, Blue Bug. Anybody who was somebody was big time when slinging rock cocaine. However, Lil Nut and his crew were young, small timers, and after he’d given most of his money to Princess, he was really just starting all over. But crack was such a popular drug that anybody who wanted to make a dollar was able to because it was enough bread on the streets for everybody to eat.

Fuquan was all about the paper, and Lil Nut had the brains and the muscle to complete a perfect partnership.

“What’s happening?” Fuquan shouted at Butter and Fatman, giving them both pounds and moving toward Lil Nut. “What’s up?” He gave his good friend a handshake.

“Yo, you ever find that package?” Lil Nut asked Fuquan.

“Naw, man, I’m telling you my brother got me for it,” Fuquan responded.

The package Lil Nut was referring to was the work that Fuquan was holding in his room. It came up missing and Fuquan didn’t know what had happened to it. It was no secret that Fuquan’s older brother was a hardcore addict, and he had stolen from the house before.

“So what you gonna do?” Lil Nut asked.

“What you mean?” Fuquan asked.

“About the dough we lost.” Lil Nut looked at him square in the eyes.

“Man, I ain’t fucking with Red like that.” Fuquan was serious.

He feared his brother, and so did just about everybody in the Brownsville section of Brooklyn. His brother was out of control. He was considered a crack monster.

“If you ain’t gonna say nothing, then I will,” Lil Nut said.

“That’s on you, homeboy. I ain’t fucking with Red like that. And you of all people know better than to fuck with him too.” Fuquan pointed at Lil Nut.

“You scared of him, but I ain’t,” Lil Nut said, plain and simple.

Fuquan was about to respond when someone called his name.

“Fu!” A crackhead walked up on them.

Fuquan turned around and looked the man up and down.

“I need three nicks, man,” the fiend with white, ashy lips said.

“See the boys over there.” Fuquan pointed to the others on the corner serving several other addicts. “Damn, that shit got niggas foaming at the mouth,” Fuquan said and laughed after the man walked away.

“Yeah, man, them cats beam up to Scotty every day, all day,” Lil Nut added.

“Beam me up, Scotty. Take me away!” Fuquan joked.

Lil Nut laughed at him while he walked over to a parked car and leaned against it.

“This is where it’s at, Nut,” Fuquan yelled. “Word up! Ain’t noting but cheddar out this bitch, and I’ma rat waiting to get a piece of that cheese!” Fuquan yelled with his arms spread apart. Lil Nut laughed at his friend.

“Hey, Nut.” A brown skinned girl waved to him as she walked by.

“C’mere,” he said. He licked his full lips and smiled a perfect white smile.

She was walking with her friend, who followed her over to Lil Nut.

“What, y’all don’t see me?” Fuquan asked in a jealous manner, because the girls walked by him without speaking.

Both girls looked at him, sucked their teeth, and rolled their eyes.

“Well fuck y’all then!”

“Yo! Don’t disrespect the ladies like that! What the fuck is wrong witchu?” Lil Nut raised himself off the car, heated. He hated for any man to disrespect a female, especially in his presence. He had no tolerance for that.

He ice grilled Fuquan with hatred.

“A’ight man, damn!” Fuquan knew not to push the issue any further, so he walked over to the others.

“How you doing, Nut?” Sherri, the brown-skinned young lady asked.

She had a petite frame that had developed nicely. Her sandy colored hair was in a French roll that went around her whole head. She wore door knocker earrings and a small gold rope chain. Her friend was a little taller and much thinner. She was darker, and she wore her hair in corn-rows to the back with beads at the ends.

Lil Nut was still ice grilling Fuquan when Sherri spoke to him again.

“Nut?”

He looked at her and the evil look disappeared from his face. He smiled at her and grabbed her hand. He leaned back on the car and pulled her a little closer to him.

“How you doing, Sherri?”

“I’m good.” She blushed.

He spoke to the other young lady. “How you doing, Pam?”

“Hey, Lil Nut.” She waved.

“What y’all getting into?” He looked back and forth between the two of them.

“Nothing. We was just gonna go down to the store and get some red Blow Pops.”

“Here.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small knot. He peeled off a ten-dollar bill and handed it to Sherri. “Get whatever y’all want and keep the change.”

“Thanks, Nut. You so sweet.” She took the money, smiling, but he held on to her hand. She continued to smile.

“Lil Nut, you always take care of us. Thanks,” Pam said.

It was true. All the girls loved Lil Nut. Older women adored him as well. He was very respectful to women of all ages.

Sherri kissed him on the cheek.

“Where you gonna be later?” he whispered in her ear.

“I’ll be ’round the way,” she said, referring to the area where she lived.

“A’ight I’ll see you later,” he winked at her, still holding onto her hand.

“Thanks for looking out for us, Nut. I know Fu is your boy, but I can’t stand him.” Sherri frowned.

“If any nigga ever diss y’all, just let me know. I’ll put him on his ass,” Lil Nut said and meant it.

Just then shots rang out down the street from where they were standing.

“Get outta here, ladies. I’ll see you later,” Lil Nut said, letting Sherri’s hand go and shooing the girls to safety. They didn’t hesitate to make their way down the street away from the gunfire.

A rail thin man in a pair of dirty jeans was running for his life. The man chasing him was dressed in a black Adidas jogging suit with a red double stripe going down the legs and arms of the suit. He held on to his three huge rope chains with one hand while he popped off shots with the other hand. The man in the jeans was shot in the leg and limped badly, but he still managed to out run his hunter.

“Oh shit! That nigga finally got caught!” Butter yelled.

“Bust that ass!” Fatman added.

“Yo, ain’t that Sticky?” Fuquan squinted to see as he walked back over to Lil Nut.

“Hell, yeah, that’s his dumb ass. Somebody finally got with that nigga,” Lil Nut said.

No one on the street ran from the scene. Instead everyone watched, waiting to see a murder.

Sticky acquired his name because he was a master thief. He would take anything he could get his hands on. Sticky Fingers was his original name, which was ultimately shortened to Sticky. He was the worst kind of thief, because he was a crackhead.

Three more shots were fired at Sticky, all missing.

“That nigga can’t shoot!” Fuquan said.

“Give me the hammer. I’ll bust a cap in his ass!” Butter shouted at the trigger man, who whizzed past them.

Sticky dipped in between oncoming cars, allowing him to escape the shooter and certain death.

The onlookers clowned the gunman while he made his way back in the direction from which he came. The look on his face told them that he was pissed.

“Yo, how much he get you for?” Lil Nut shouted to the gunman.

“One cap,” the gunman shouted back, out of breath.

“You chased that nigga for one cap?” Lil Nut screwed his face.

“Fuck you, man! Sticky is a dead man next time I see him,” he shot back.

Lil Nut laughed and the rest joined in.

“Oh, so you think the shit is funny?” The gunman made a sudden stop, turned around, and headed toward the corner where Lil Nut and the others stood. He was ready to take his frustrations out on the young boys, mainly because he was embarrassed that he didn’t catch his target. But what he didn’t know was that Lil Nut and his crew weren’t your average young boys.

Sensing an altercation, Butter and Fatman walked over to their boys to act as backup.

Lil Nut began to approach the gunman while placing a hand on the butt of his weapon, which he carried in the waistband of his jeans. He gripped the handle.

“What’s up?” Lil Nut asked with confidence showing on his face. “You don’t want it.” He challenged the man.

“You must be high. You don’t know who the fuck I am?” the gunman asked.

“I don’t give a fuck who you are,” Lil Nut spat. “But what I do know is, you must be dumb as shit to let Sticky get you.”

The gunman stopped short several feet in front of the crew. Although he had a weapon, he could see that Lil Nut had a gun too, and he didn’t know what his boys had. Staying at that distance would give the gunman the leverage and the jump on them if he had to pull out his gun.

“Oh, so you got a slick mouth?” The gunman smirked at Lil Nut, looking him up and down. He opened up his Adidas suit jacket and postured. “So you think you big shit, standing there with your fake-ass gold rope chain.” He laughed.

“Naw, nigga, ain’t nothing fake ’bout my shit. You the one frontin’ like you big time, chasing Sticky down the street for one cap, wild’n out shooting, and ain’t hittin’ shit!” The crew burst into laughter. “Talking ’bout fake, I see you copped you one of them fake-ass Izod shirts, ’cause ya horse only got three legs.”

His boys burst into more laughter. The nosey bystanders had eased their way over to see the show, and they were laughing right along with Lil Nut’s boys. This pissed off the gunman.

“I see I’ma have to teach yo’ young ass a little lesson, ’cause you obviously don’t know who you fucking with,” he threatened. He looked over at Butter and recognized him. “Ask ya man. He know me.” He pointed to Butter.

“Like I said, I don’t give a fuck who you are, and as far as teaching me a lesson, think again. ’Cause I ain’t the one to be taught by some wannabe,” Lil Nut assured him. “The only man who could teach me shit is six feet under.”

“Tell him who I am, Butter,” the gunman instructed, not letting Lil Nut’s last statement offend him.

“Yo, Nut, man, that’s Prodigy. He work for Snookie,” Butter whispered to him.

Lil Nut didn’t move a muscle. He continued to grip the gun tightly while he clenched his jaw. He knew who Snookie was. Hell, who didn’t? Lil Nut had idolized Snookie when he was much younger. His name was well known in Brooklyn. Lil Nut had heard a lot about him from the older cats in the projects when they sat around and told stories of the pull Snookie had. Not to mention all the police he had on his payroll from the Dirty Seventy-three cops stationed at East New York Ave.

But what Prodigy didn’t know about Lil Nut was once the beast inside him was triggered, it didn’t matter if Malcolm X himself tried to stop him, he did whatever he had to do, by any means necessary.

“Did I ask you who this clown worked for?” He scowled at Butter. He looked back at Prodigy.

Prodigy looked at the young man and then began to laugh. “Yeah, a’ight kid, I’ma let you slide on this one. Learn to respect your elders,” he said and began to walk away, thinking he was sparing Lil Nut’s life.

“Show me some respect and you might just get some!” Lil Nut yelled out after him.

“Go fuck ya mother, young boy!” Prodigy kept walking and never looked back.

Prodigy heard the sound, but before he could turn around to see what happened, he felt the heat and then the unbearable burning sensation in his back. He stood there, not able to move. The muscles in his legs began to feel light as a feather, and he could no longer hold his body upright. The pain in his back became more severe by the second. He realized he was shot because he could smell burning flesh, and he could feel the wetness of blood running down his back.

The onlookers all had looks of shock on their faces as they stared at Prodigy. He went down on his knees hard. He felt his knee caps crack when he hit the cement ground, but he didn’t feel the pain because his focus was on the pain in his back. It felt like he was on fire. His vision became blurred. He placed his hands on the ground, trying to keep himself from falling farther.

“Oh, shit! Did you see that shit!” someone yelled.

“Yo, that little nigga is ruthless!” another yelled.

“Yo, come on, Nut, let’s roll out.” Fuquan tried to motivate his friend to move.

Lil Nut stood there, staring at Prodigy, waiting for him to die.

Butter and Fuquan both grabbed Lil Nut by the arm and practically dragged him away from the scene.

Prodigy finally fell face-first to the ground, no longer able to remain conscious. A male fiend slowly approached Prodigy’s body. He quickly began to search his pockets and pulled out a knot. This made another male fiend run over and assist with the search.

Two young boys ran over and began to remove his jewelry. The fiends began to protest and an argument broke out. Someone called the cops because a patrol car blared up the street, and the robbers scattered like roaches when the light was turned on.

Lil Nut stayed in the house for a week after the very public murder. He was lying low as a precaution, and at Fuquan’s request. Everyone out there that day knew he shot Prodigy. The crew wasn’t taking any chances on Snookie coming after Lil Nut. But Lil Nut didn’t care. He feared no one. He’d already been to war and came out on top. This shit was lightweight to him.

As the days passed, Lil Nut began to go crazy sitting up in the crib doing nothing. Although he loved the streets and the hustle, he was actually very book smart. While lying low, he read every book in the house at least twice. He read the newspaper every day from front to back, and played every vinyl record his mother owned, and every cassette he had.

Lil Nut was eating Cap’n Crunch cereal out of a mixing bowl when someone knocked on the door. He put the last spoonful in his mouth and walked over to the door. He looked out the peephole and then removed the chain, unlocking the top and bottom locks. He pulled the door open to see his boy Fatman standing there.

“What up?” Fatman asked, slapping hands with Lil Nut.

“What up?” Lil Nut asked with a mouth full of cereal.

Fatman walked in and locked the door. Lil Nut was already back at the kitchen table when Fatman walked into the kitchen.

“What’s buzzing on the streets, man?” Lil Nut asked.

“Yo, man, your name is ringing out, man. I’m saying, nobody popping shit ’bout what happened. They saying some respect shit ’bout you,” Fatman said with admiration.

“Like what?” Lil Nut asked. He put the bowl up to his mouth and drank the milk, making slurping noises.

Fatman walked over to the refrigerator and opened it.

“You don’t live here, nigga,” Lil Nut said with milk covering his top lip.

“I’m saying, I’m thirsty and shit. It’s hot as hell outside.”

“So what? Ask first.” Lil Nut continued to slurp the milk from the bowl.

Fatman ignored him and removed the pitcher of Kool-Aid from the refrigerator.

“What they saying about me?” Lil Nut asked again.

“Oh, yeah, they saying you a bold motherfucker to fuck with one of Snookie’s boys.” Fatman drank the glass of Kool-Aid he had poured.

Lil Nut sat back in the chair and burped loudly.

“And peep this, Snookie ain’t even gonna come for you, ’cause word is he was gonna do Prodigy anyway, because he was always fucking up the work.” Fatman poured another glass of Kool-Aid. “And check this shit out, word is Prodigy was getting high smoking up the work and then blaming it on other niggas, saying somebody stole the stash and shit like that.”

“Niggas is stupid. I’m telling you, if you want to last in this business, you can’t be getting high on your own supply,” Lil Nut schooled him.

“Word, I hear you.”

“I heard a lot of cats who started out making dough, and then the next thing you know you see them in a dope nod off they own shit. Then the next time you see them, they fell off and now they’re a fiend.” Lil Nut shook his head.

“Yeah, well the way I see it, you did Snookie a favor,” Fatman said.

“Cool, so I’ma come back out today.” Lil Nut was pleased to hear the good news.

“Fuquan told me to tell you to sit tight for like another couple of days.”

“Fuck that! I don’t answer to Fu!” Lil Nut put the bowl and spoon in the sink. “Where that nigga at anyway? He ain’t been through to see me yet.” He turned to look at Fatman.

“That’s what I came over to tell you. I ain’t seen him in a couple days. After the last package I came and got from you, I went to go get the bread from him, and he said he ain’t have it, so I bounced.”

“So what he been doing?” Lil Nut was now curious.

“I dunno, man. I went by there before I came over here and he ain’t even answering the door.”

“He ain’t out clockin’?”

“I ain’t see him. I ain’t gonna lie, I really ain’t look for him like that. But I know he wasn’t at the spot.” Fatman shrugged his shoulders.

Lil Nut stood there leaning against the counter with his arms folded across his chest. He was in deep thought. It wasn’t like Fuquan to just disappear like that.

“Where Butter at?”

“Butter around. I got his bread right here with mine. We both sold out.”

“A’ight, I’ma throw on my shit, and we gonna go see what’s up with Fu,” he said, walking out of the kitchen.

Fatman helped himself to another glass of Kool-Aid while he waited for Lil Nut to get dressed.

***

Lil Nut, Fatman, and Butter walked up into the Howard projects. They were on their way to Fuquan’s apartment when Lil Nut saw a commotion taking place. A man was beating the shit out of his girlfriend right in the middle of the courtyard. Lil Nut stopped in his tracks and looked. Butter and Fatman also looked in the direction of the commotion.

“Damn, he whooping her ass,” Butter said.

Lil Nut began to walk toward the couple.

“Yo, Nut, where you going, man?” Fatman called out after him.

“Aw, damn, this nigga ’bout to get into some shit. Damn! Come on, Fatman,” Butter beckoned as he went after Lil Nut.

Butter caught up to him and grabbed him by the arm. “Come on, Nut, this ain’t got nothing to do with you. Just leave it alone. They just a couple of fiends. They gonna be back together as soon as they get some get-high anyway.”

Lil Nut snatched his arm from Butter’s grip with force.

Butter knew it was a wrap, so he did what any friend would do. He prepared himself to have his boy’s back.

Lil Nut wasted no time once he reached the quarrelling couple. The man had knocked the woman to the ground and was stomping out her guts. The woman lay in the fetal position trying to cover her head and face from the forceful blows.

Lil Nut grabbed his gun and pulled it out. He charged the man and clocked him on the back of the head with the butt end of the gun. The man’s head split in the spot he received the blow. He instantly threw up his hand to touch his head. He turned around just in time for Lil Nut to crack him in the forehead with the gun. The male fiend stumbled, almost falling to the ground. He tried to stand straight, but he swayed badly. He was dizzy and practically dead on his feet. Finally he fell to the ground hard before Lil Nut could hit him again. The injured man rolled back and forth on the ground in pain.

Lil Nut began to stomp him in the face, stomach, and back. Whatever way the man rolled, Lil Nut was on him, stomping him. He was like a maniac. He was so focused that he didn’t even hear the female fiend screaming and hollering for Lil Nut to stop. He was in such a raging trance that he didn’t even realize the man was no longer moving. He hadn’t even noticed that a crowd had gathered.

“Ain’t that the young cat that offed Prodigy?” someone asked.

“Yeah, that’s him. That nigga is crazy.”

Lil Nut didn’t notice this, but his friends did and they felt uncomfortable.

Butter and Fatman charged Lil Nut, getting him off the man. They dragged him away from the horrible bloodbath he’d created.

Lil Nut yanked himself from the grip of his two friends and began to walk on his own. He breathed deeply. Blood covered his hand, the gun he still held, and his Nike sneakers.

Butter and Fatman knew they had to get Lil Nut out of there, and they had to do it fast. Once inside the building, they headed for the elevator.

“Yo, that shit was crazy. What’s up with you, Nut?” Butter asked.

“Fuck you mean, what’s up with me? You for real? Y’all niggas better chill on stopping me from handling my business. I swear one of y’all gonna catch a hot one one day. And that’s my word.” Lil Nut’s adrenaline was still working overtime.

“It’s like this, Nut, we ya boys, and we got ya back. But if you just gonna be wild’n out on motherfuckers just on a whim, then we gotta do what we need to do to getchu up outta sticky situations. Nah-mean?” Butter asked.

“Word up,” Fatman cosigned.

Lil Nut stood there staring at his two friends. He understood where they were coming from. It didn’t dawn on him before that moment that the actions he took could affect everyone around him. But he couldn’t control the beast that lay within him. It had always been like that. His crazy, unpredictable acts were how he got his name.

“Good looking out,” he said sincerely, giving his two friends a pound and a hug.

Lil Nut pushed the button for the elevator. They stepped into the elevator and pushed the button for Fuquan’s floor.

“Look at my shit!” Lil Nut said, getting mad all over again after seeing his ruined gear. He lifted one Nike sneaker slightly off the elevator floor to get a better look at the damage. “Damn!”

“And them a fresh pair too. You just got them shits the other day,” Fatman added.

“Word! Fuck!” Lil Nut hit the elevator wall with his fist, leaving a bloody print behind. “I got that crackhead’s blood all over my hands and shit.” He looked at his hands and arms while still holding the gun.

“Yo, man, give me that,” Butter said, noticing the gun. “You still holding the hammer?”

“Man, I’ma have to get a fucking rabies shot.” Lil Nut continued to vent, ignoring Butter’s request to conceal the weapon.

The bell rang in the elevator, indicating that the floor requested had been reached. When the doors opened two teen girls stood there in their short shorts and tank tops, sucking on apple Jolly Ranchers candy sticks.

“Hey, Nut,” they both sang as if in a love trance.

“Ladies, how y’all doing?” Lil Nut’s smile appeared out of nowhere. He poured on the charm as they stepped off of the elevator.

“What happened? Are you all right?” one of the girls asked. The girls were suddenly alarmed when they noticed the blood on Lil Nut and the gun he held. They both approached him and examined him as if they where physicians.

Butter and Fatman simply leaned up against the wall in amazement. Just a few seconds ago Lil Nut was ready to whoop some more ass, and now he looked like the Don Juan of the ghetto.

“I’m good, ladies. I had to open up a can of whoop ass on this nigga. It’s his blood, not mine.”

“Oh, good.” They both sighed with relief.

Both the girls continued to flirt with Lil Nut. Even with all the blood he had on him, they were still attracted to him, especially since he was still holding the gun in his hands.

Butter and Fatman stood there in envy. They had to work hard to get some play from the females, but Lil Nut didn’t.

“Uh, excuse me, ladies, but we have to get the king cleaned up, a’ight?” Butter interrupted the overly dramatic scene.

“OK, Nut, where you on your way to?” one of the girls asked. “You headed to Fu’s house?”

“Yeah, you seen him?” Lil Nut asked.

“Yeah, he just went into the apartment not too long ago.”

“A’ight, thanks, y’all,” Fatman said and started to walk toward Fuquan’s apartment down the hall.

“Yeah, good looking,” Butter yelled over his shoulder as he followed Fatman.

“A’ight, ladies, I’ll see y’all later?” Lil Nut asked.

“No doubt, Lil Nut. We’ll be around,” one of the girls said.

Lil Nut backpedaled down the hall, checking out the girls’ asses as they waited for the elevator to return.

Once at Fuquan’s door, Butter and Fatman waited for Lil Nut to get there before they rang the bell.

Lil Nut gave a nod to Fatman to ring the bell. He pushed the bell and it sounded off more like a buzzer. Lil Nut made a gesture for them to step to either side of the door, so if someone looked out of the peephole they wouldn’t be seen.

Butter and Fatman had no idea why they were doing this. They just followed Lil Nut’s lead. Lil Nut did this out of natural instinct. There was something about the way Fuquan had been missing, and then coming up empty with the re-up money on more than one occasion that made Lil Nut suspicious. Not to mention the fact that no one could catch up to him but the girls in the hallway had just seen him. Lil Nut thought about all of these things, and decided to be on the defensive out of pure street instinct.

“Who is it?” Fuquan shouted when he didn’t see anyone through the peephole.

“It’s Nut,” he said, stepping into view so that Fuquan could see him through the peephole.

Fuquan opened the door to let them all inside.

“What’s up, my niggas!” he shouted, giving everybody a pound as they walked in, all except Lil Nut, who brought up the rear. “What the fuck happened to you?” Fuquan twisted up his face at Nut’s appearance.

“Man, you don’t want to know,” Fatman said as he plopped down onto the sofa. Butter followed behind him and sat on the same sofa.

“Yo, you got some shit I could change into? I need to change my clothes and get this blood off me,” Lil Nut said, walking past Fuquan while looking him up and down. Lil Nut and Fuquan were about the same size and wore the same size sneakers.

“Yeah, I got something you could throw on. Why you holding that gat?”

“’Cause I need to wipe it off first.”

“What happened?” Fuquan’s face showed concern.

He looked at the three of them for answers. No one said a word. Butter and Fatman didn’t say anything because they were waiting for Lil Nut to speak first.

“Nothing, man. I had to stomp this nigga out in the court over this chick—”

Fuquan cut him off. “Wait, let me guess, he disrespected her,” Fuquan said, laughing.

“And you know it,” Butter added.

“Naw, he put his hands on her.” Lil Nut’s eyes narrowed at the slickness of Fuquan’s tongue. Any other time he would have joked with Fuquan about his smart-aleck ways, but today was a different day. Lil Nut was having a hard time figuring out where the other half of their money was, and he wanted answers from Fuquan.

“It figures,” Fuquan said, no longer making eye contact with Lil Nut. He walked away. “Come on, I’ma get you some fresh gear and a washcloth.” He left the room.

“If this nigga ain’t got the bread or the product, I’ma beat his ass down too,” Lil Nut said to Fatman and Butter. Unfortunately for Fuquan, he meant every word.

“Come on, man, that’s our boy. You can’t do that,” Butter whispered to Lil Nut.

“The fuck I can’t. This is business.” Lil Nut left the room.

Butter and Fatman looked at each other and shook their heads.

Lil Nut walked into Fuquan’s room. Fuquan was in the closet searching for some fresh gear for Lil Nut to borrow. He pulled out a pair of Lee jeans and a Nike T-shirt, and laid them on the bed. Lil Nut stood there stone faced.

“Yo, Fu, Fatman said you ain’t got your cut for the re-up.”

“I don’t. I was gonna come by your crib and tell you. My brother got me again for the shit. I know he did this time, because he took the whole shoebox,” Fuquan said as he went to look for a pair of sneakers for Lil Nut to put on. Fuquan had one whole wall lined with sneakers. He tossed Lil Nut a pair of Adidas with shell toes. The sneakers landed next to Lil Nut’s foot.

“I let that shit go the first time, and I even took your advice and didn’t say anything to Red. But I ain’t about to take another loss, and you walking around here like everything is gravy. I hold you responsible for that shit.” Lil Nut pointed his finger at Fuquan.

Fuquan was squatting down looking at the sneakers, but quickly stood upright at Lil Nut’s statement. “Me? How you figure?” Fuquan walked toward Lil Nut with a serious face.

“How I figure? You are responsible for your half, and this is the second time we lost out on money.”

“Yo, we a team. There ain’t no I in team. If the team loses, it’s a team loss,” Fuquan said.

“Naw, man, you lose. ’Cause you the only one who keep fucking up.”

“How you figure I’m fucking up? My brother keep lifting our shit. What the fuck am I supposed to do?”

Lil Nut stood there staring at him as if trying to see through to his soul. He contemplated what Fu had said, and he thought about how he might be overreacting. Fuquan was his boy, and had been his boy since childhood. Lil Nut knew how Red was. Red was no joke.

“A’ight, man, it’s cool. From now on I’m just gonna keep all the shit at my crib,” Lil Nut said.

Fuquan breathed a sigh of relief. “Yo, man, you had me thinking I took the shit. I mean I got some of the loot, but not much. But I got something.” He tried to make light of the situation.

“Naw, that’s a’ight, you keep that. We starting fresh. I’ma let Fatman and Butter rock for a while. You take a break.”

“It’s whatever, man. I’m wit’ it,” Fuquan said.

“A’ight, let me get a washcloth so I can get this shit off me,” Lil Nut said.

“I gotchu,” Fuquan said and walked toward the bedroom door. He stopped and turned around. “Yo, man, thanks, man. We boys for life,” he said and walked out.

***

Three days later Lil Nut sat on a bench in the courtyard of the Langston Hughes housing projects, where he now lived. He and his moms had moved off of Pitkin Avenue after his father was murdered behind the apartment building. It was just too much for both of them to live with.

While Lil Nut waited for Butter and Fatman to come through with the re-up, he read the latest issue of the Wall Street Journal. He had picked up the paper earlier that day when he went to the corner store. The wind was blowing a little harder than normal, but the breeze felt good. Every now and then he looked up, observing his surroundings. Several residents walked by and he acknowledged them with a head nod or a handshake.

He folded the paper and unscrewed the top to a bottle of orange soda. After taking a deep gulp, he burped loudly, then set the bottle back on the bench. He adjusted the two guns he carried—one in the front waistband of his jeans, and the other in the small of his back.

Lil Nut had been thinking about the conversation he and Fuquan had that day in Fuquan’s room. He had been thinking long and hard. That was the type of person he was. He analyzed everything. He would pick apart a situation, bit by bit, until he came up with a sensible solution.

He thought about the past mishaps with Fuquan, and the conversations he’d heard on the streets for the past two days. He told Fuquan that he wasn’t going to say anything to Red, but after thinking it over, Lil Nut decided to step to Red anyway without Fuquan’s knowledge. His plan was to find Red after the fellas came back with the work and he got them situated. However, opportunity knocked on his door sooner than expected. He spotted Red on the other side of the courtyard purchasing drugs from another local dealer.

Lil Nut sat and watched the transaction, and then his eyes followed Red until he disappeared into one of the buildings. Lil Nut looked at his beeper to check the time, contemplating whether he should leave or stay put. He had told Fatman and Butter that he would meet them where he now sat waiting.

Lil Nut hadn’t seen Fuquan since that day in his apartment. He wasn’t worried too much about that, though, because he now held all the product and money. He just figured Fuquan was still feeling some kind of a way because of the way Lil Nut came at him.

After a few more minutes of thought, Lil Nut got up from the bench. He grabbed the newspaper and the soda bottle. He dropped them both into the garbage can as he walked by it. He was heading in the direction in which Red had gone.

Tim, the dealer who Red bought the product from, was still standing in the same spot he’d been in when Red had approached him.

“Tim,” Lil Nut called.

Tim turned around, saw Nut, and threw up his fist in acknowledgement.

“C’mere, man,” Lil Nut said.

“Hold up,” Tim said, putting up an index finger. Tim served a customer and then placed the money in his pocket. “What’s up?” he asked Lil Nut as he approached him. He shook Lil Nut’s hand.

“Was that Red that copped from you?”

“Yeah, that was him. Yo, I ain’t want to serve him, but he had money. I thought that big nigga was gonna try some shady shit. Feel me?”

“Yeah, I feel you.”

“Ain’t he ya peoples?” Tim asked, knowing that Red was Lil Nut’s partner’s brother.

“Yeah, he is. You know where he went?”

“Naw. All I know is he went in there.” Tim pointed to the building Lil Nut had seen Red enter.

“Oh, a’ight.”

“Oh, wait, hold up,” Tim said before Lil Nut could walk away. “Unless he went to the hole,” Tim remembered. “Them fiends be going in the basement. They call it the hole.”

Lil Nut already knew what Tim was talking about. After all, he lived in those very same projects. He’d never been down in the hole, but he’d always known about it. He wondered why Red would be in the basement of one of the buildings in the projects where Nut lived in. Red didn’t usually cop from there.

“Oh, a’ight, good lookin’, man.” Lil Nut shook Tim’s hand again, thanking him before walking off toward the building.

Once inside the hallway, Lil Nut walked to the basement door and looked around. He pressed his ear up against the metal door to see if he could hear anything. When he heard nothing, he carefully pulled open the door. There was a lit light bulb hanging from the ceiling of the stairwell.

He crept down the stairs, making sure he stopped and listened after each step. As he got closer to the bottom, he could hear a lighter being flicked. He then smelled crack burning. He now knew that someone was down there smoking crack, but he didn’t know who.

The basement reeked of urine. He had to pinch his nose closed to get relief from the smell. As he traveled along the basement, he made sure he stayed close to the wall, because some parts of the basement were very dark. He could hear mice squeaking as they traveled along the wall. Lil Nut kept moving. Once he reached the rear of the basement the smell of crack got stronger, and then he heard the mumble of voices. There was more than one person down there.

Lil Nut removed one of his guns and held his hand behind his back. He turned the corner, and sitting there on the floor of the basement with a glass pipe up to his lips was Fuquan. Red sat on a crate in front of Fuquan, reloading his pipe with crack. Neither of the men heard Lil Nut approach.

Lil Nut felt his blood begin to boil as he realized that his previous premonition was correct. He was heated that his boy not only had been smoking up the product, but had the nerve to do it in the basement right under Lil Nut’s nose, in a building in the very projects where Nut lived. Visions of Lil Nut’s father getting high off crack came flooding back and all the beef he had with his friends, Lamiek and Lite. Lil Nut felt betrayed.

Fuquan was sweating profusely as he flicked the lighter again. Lil Nut reached behind his back with his other hand and removed the gun that was concealed in the back of his waistband.

Anger invaded his whole body and he no longer saw his brother in his friend Fuquan. What he saw before him was a man who had betrayed him in the worst way. All the lies Fuquan had told him flooded his brain and infuriated him even more.

Lil Nut cocked the hammers on his guns, and the noise alerted both males to his presence.

“What’s up?” Red asked. He stood, still holding the pipe in his hands. “Is you fucking crazy, sneaking up on me like that?” he asked with much bass in his voice.

Lil Nut never said a word. He continued to ice grill Fuquan with hatred. Fuquan couldn’t even look his friend in the eyes. In fact, he had the nerve to reload the pipe with a rock and continued to smoke with shaking hands. Lil Nut was filled with rage and anger. Using drugs was the catalyst that had led to his father’s murder. Had his pops not been getting high, he would have been on point when the wolves came after him. Milton would have never gotten caught slipping had he not been a crackhead.

“Nut? You don’t hear me talking to you, little nigga?” Red bellowed with authority.

Lil Nut simply raised one of the guns and shot Red in the chest, sending him flying to the cement floor.

Fuquan almost jumped outta his skin when the shot was fired. He stood and dropped his pipe to the ground. It crashed, sending pieces of glass flying. He stood there leaning against the wall. He began to cry and plead for his life.

“Nut, man, come on, man, what are you doing?”

“What am I doing?” Lil Nut asked calmly. But it didn’t take a rocket scientist to know that Lil Nut was not happy.

“Nut, it wasn’t me, man. Red made me do it, man! I was stressing out. He made me do it, I swear.” Fuquan cried while snot ran from his nose.

“You were supposed to be my brother. You played me out. I trusted you, and this is how you do me?”

“No, Nut! No, man! I swear it wasn’t my fault! What was I supposed to do? He made me do it.” Fuquan continued to cry.

“Red ain’t make you suck on that glass dick, did he?”

Fuquan lowered his head.

“You were supposed to come to me like a man,” Lil Nut told him. His father’s advice came out as if it were his own. “Real niggas’ don’t ever get high on their own drug supply.”

Fuquan went down to his knees and continued to beg for his life.

Hearing enough, and no longer having a heart for Fuquan, Lil Nut put a bullet in his friend’s head. He then walked over to Fuquan and put two more in his face. He did the same to Red to ensure that they were both dead, and then Lil Nut walked out of the basement.