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“Hello,” said Skyp as he answered his sidekick and turned the music down in his new Jaguar. It was a cocaine white with some custom white 22-inch rims.
“Hello, I’m trying to get in touch with Skyp or Flight Risk,” said the voice.
Skyp looked at Flight Risk, as he passed the purple haze filled cigar. “Who is this? I will no longer entertain this conversation if you don’t tell me who you are and how you got my number.”
The caller heard how stern and serious Skyp got and the phone went silent for a moment. After about five seconds, Skyp was getting ready to hang up but the voice came back. “No need for the hostility son. My name is Ishmel, kid. And I’m looking forward to having a meeting with you and your mans Flight Risk. I believe that we can make a lot of money together. And the phone situation, I got my ways. A little coke and a few ecstasy pills will have these bitches open.” Ishmel laughed to himself. “Check this out! I’ll be in Bada Bing tonight. Meet me there about 11:30 or 12, just tell them at the door who you looking for kid. They’ll escort you to VIP, it's gonna be bananas son. I’ma show yall how we make it rain up in the North B.”
Skyp and Flight Risk looked at each other, as they listened to Ishmel over the speakerphone. Flight Risk nodded his head to Skyp. “Everything mix, we’ll be there ya dig.”
“Kool one,” said Ishmel.
“Mix two,” said Skyp and they hung up the phone as he and Flight Risk burst out laughing.
“Dog you stupid,” said Flight Risk as he lit the blunt back up and allowed the four 10’s in the trunk to quake. “I hope this nigga don’t be on no stupid shit cuz we’ll send his ass back North in a box.”
“I know that’s right,” said Skyp as he grabbed the blunt from Flight Risk and they headed toward their destination. Flight Risk made the call to all his LT’s of their clique, and told them the scenario. It was going to be a good night, or it was going to be a real hectic one.
As Skyp and Flight Risk drove to finish collecting their money from their trap houses, Flight Risk looked at his watch and it was 9:17PM, and he knew he had to go take a shower and change clothes. Skyp dropped Flight risk off to his most recently bought townhouse and they departed with plans of everyone in their clique to meet at the Hess down the street from Bada Bing. Which was at the intersection of Ladson Rd and HWY 78, at 11 o’clock. Everyone was getting fresh and prepared to show niggas who was really getting money.
The clique arrived at Hess and they followed one behind the other, as they pulled in the parking lot of the strip club in their whips. The parking lot was packed but the front of the club was reserved for the niggas who had long bread, which meant the “Breaded Boys” clique were filling in the lots. Only one member was missing but his organization was going to represent him to the fullest. As the entourage pulled up, heads turned at the sight of Doja’s crew. The first car was Skyp’s new all white Jaguar, next was Flight Risk in a black on black Mercedes Benz SL65 AMG Black series, followed by Lil Pistol in a burnt orange candy coated BMW 5 series sedan. Lost Soul was behind him in a car with no symbols on it but it looked like a Mercedes Coup of some sort, but when he let his door up in front of the club people realized that youngster was in a Maserati Granturismo talking on his cell phone, smiling showing two platinum teeth on the top and eight more on the bottom encrusted with begets. Now Exotic was behind them all and pulled up in a 3-toned candy Cherry wine 745i. He didn’t want to drive it but he had to come down hard for his best friend Doja. As all five of them got out their cars, they headed straight for the door instead of waiting in the line. Though Bada Bing was a strip club, tonight was a special event and the females were in full force.
As Skyp and his entourage walked towards the door, females were eyeing them and niggas were hating as usual. They got to the door and none of them were checked and walked straight in as the owner dapped them up. They all had on Kevlar Vest under their shirts and they all were strapped and prepared to reload. As the crew entered the club, they had look like some superstars. But at the same time, they kept their clothing hood rich. Gucci sneakers, Jordan’s, Crown Holder, Ed Hardy, Coogi, Parish, and Gucci jeans were their attire. Plus, the jewelry that they had on. The club was real packed so they headed straight to the VIP area to begin their meeting and night. Meeting, which meant that business was the first, then party later. As Skyp and Flight Risk led the crew to the back of the club, they approached the character who they assumed to be Ishmel and his people. As Skyp stopped at Ishmel table, Ishmel didn’t know who the dudes were that were standing there.
One of his homeboys got up and slightly put his hand to Skyp’s chest to back him up because they felt he was getting too close. But by the time dude fully stretched his arm out guns were cocked and pointed at the dude and Ishmel. The dude eased his arm away and before you knew it about four guys rolled up behind Skyp them and them were they straight. Skyp nodded to the dude and told him yeah, at the same time he made a mental note to reward Marquise later. Because, it was him, his brother, and two homeboys that came to make sure that Skyp them didn’t have a problem.
Ishmel rose out of his seat and told his homeboy to chill because he invited them Ishmel excused his entourage and Skyp and Flight Risk did the same Exotic, Lost Soul, and Lil Pistol went to get some ones and drinks so they could start their night.
“How you figure we can make money together first of all?” asked Skyp “And real niggas go through procedures to arrange meetings about business. You can be some fed or some shit but it really ain’t much to discuss ya feel me.”
Ishmel looked at Skyp, then at Flight Risk, then back at Skyp and took a sip of Corona. “I don’t know if y'all Geechies know who I am, but I’ll let y’all know now. I run my city.”
Flight Risk smirked. “And what that got to do with our city?”
“I’m glad you asked, but first allow me to say we got off on the wrong start. And Skyp, I ain’t nowhere close to being fed. But check this, the east coast..I trying to big things on it, kid. Bricks raw as you gonna get, no cut!” said Ishmel.
“Numbers thing ya dig,” said Flight Risk as he shook his head.
Ishmel agreed to the statement, “First three $27,000 a pop. Everything after that, $20,000 a pop. It’s like this because you won’t find no coke like this in the world.”
Skyp and Flight Risk stared at each other like this up North nigga was fuckin stupid, but they played it smart, though they already had a fire ass connect who prices were way better than this shit Ishmel proposed.
“Check this, how long you in town?” asked Skyp
Ishmel grinned. “About two more days. I could put my hands on 7, at this exact moment but if y’all got to scrape up some bread, then do that B.”
“Watch yo tongue, I’d hate for one of these hoes to be playing with it later. But I’ll call in the morning around 11 o’clock,” said Skyp.
As Skyp and Flight Risk got up, Ishmel smiled. “Bet! And one of these hoes, maybe two, will have the pleasure to play with my tongue.” And he started to laugh hard, as his homeboy came back to the table.
Skyp turned and bent towards him with a mouth full of gold teeth. “I wasn’t referring it to be as your tongue to still be attached to that jokey face of yours.”
And Skyp and Flight Risk walked off, laughing hard as hell. They were laughing hard because when Skyp made that last comment, Ishmel’s smile and laughter ceased. As Skyp and Flight Risk joined their entourage, “I need a tip drill” came on by Nell, and the females were acting dumb. Skyp reached in his pocket and pulled out a wad and started peeling back crisp bills and flinging them to the girl who stood in front of them. Flight Risk was just coming back in the club with a book bag smiling. He stopped at the DJ booth, and a few seconds later he was at the bar. As he left the bar with his pitcher of Grey Goose/Red Bull/Pineapple Juice, he was headed to his clique when Pastor Troy’s “Pop Dat Pussy” came on through the speakers and he started swervin from side to side, showing his gold teeth and long “Swanga” swinging around his neck. All of the members in his clique started throwing $100 bills in the air at him while this thick ass pretty dark skinned broad started poppin her pussy real hard in front of them.
All of a sudden, the Dj came on, “I got a shout out to my nigga Doja and them ‘Breaded Boys’ from...” and he was cut off by another familiar voice, “Pastor Descaotor and my nigga Doja.”
The whole club came to a pause as Pastor Troy and Doja entered the club from a side room. Exotic, Flight Risk, Skyp, Lost Soul, and Lil Pistol were going dumb as Pastor Troy dapped them up and started rapping “Riding Big.” Exotic them never spoke, they just started pulling out stacks and started throwing money at Doja. Doja stood there in the ‘bad man’ pose, with his custom made charm swinging from his neck as his entourage was going hard. Flight Risk handed Doja the book bag which he had just brought in that had $50 grand in it and told Doja to show them how to make it rain. The entourage was shocked, happy, overwhelmed and all of the above to see their homeboy home. They just couldn’t figure out how he did it and they didn’t care because he was home. Everything was going good until some niggas off ‘Two Ward’ from Downtown started talking shit with some niggas from Goose Creek. Everyone thought it was nothing but a little misunderstanding and everybody went back to partying.
5:36AM came around quick, as the club started winding down and everybody was leaving. The ‘Breaded Boys’ were all just getting in their cars, when all of a sudden they were stopped by a bottle being broke across some red nigga face. He had on a ‘Old Black Reppa’ shirt, with two big ass ‘swangaz’ hanging from his neck. The dark skinned dude who hit him, had on camouflage shirt, pants with the matching skully with dreads hanging to his shoulder. His homeboy next to him had on a all black all-in-one Dickey outfit, with his hair twisted in little dreads. As the dude in the camouflage took the two chainz off the red dude, he never noticed the other nigga from ‘Old Back’ leaning out the window of a tinted up Dodge Charger, with a AK74 with a beam on it. The dude in the Dickey all-in-one turnt as the dude hanging from the Dodge Charger said, “Y’all niggas trippin!”
But it was too late to warn his partner as the chopper blurted out twice. The first shot went straight through his camouflage skully and the second shot caught him in the chest. His body flew towards the wall as he went limp, and the two chains fell from his hand. The red dude was still holding his face as he reached down to grab his jewelry from the ground. The dude in the all in one Dickey fit, had pulled out a 9mm Luger and took cover by Park Ave on some 22inch spokes. He was so focus on the dude in the Dodge Charger, now letting rapid shots off from the Chopper. That he never seen the red dude whip out the nickel plated .45 Luger. The dude in the Dickey fit went to go squeeze off a few shots because he saw that the chopper stop spittin when he looked over the trunk of the Cadillac he was now hiding behind, he was greeted with a smile from the dude with the chopper holding his thumb up. By the time he spun around to see what the dude was smiling at he was greeted by the biggest .45 he had ever seen. Or maybe it was because the gun was directly between his eyes.
“Tell yo dog, if I see him at the crossroads, I hope he strap,” said the Red dude with a deep gash across the side of his face. And then the gun popped twice. One between his eyes and the other a little under his left eyes. But that was followed by 7 more shots to his chest.
Cars were still peeling out of the parking lot as sirens grew closer. The red dud jumped in the charger at the back driver’s side door. And the Dodge Charger left out the parking lot sideways, tires screeching with no lights on. When the incident first started, the ‘Breaded Boys’ knew it was time to slide out the parking lot and no parking lot stunting this time. Sure enough at the second light they heard the first gun shots followed by the sound of a AK being shot. They were glad they had already pulled out but they were now headed to Doja’s spot on Otranto Rd to discuss the matter at hand with these up North niggas he heard about. Plus, he had to inform his entourage on how he got out and how he was working on getting Digga Man out.
The caravan of luxury cars pulled into the driveway of Doja’s spot around 6:10AM, and had the front lawn and driveway decorated like a luxury car lot. The house now looked like a custom car lot. They went into the home and they got relaxed in the living room so the few situations could be discussed. Doja sat in a la-z boy recliner, with his tone on the floor. Skyp and flight Risk were sitting on the end parts of the wraparound couch, and Lil Pistol sat in the spot where the wrap around couch starts to bend Lost Soul was sitting sideways with his feet up on the love seat, as Exotic took his favorite spot on this big leather bean bag seat. Whoever flopped down in that thing surely was going to sleep, rather you were tired or not. Everybody out the clique sits in it but Exotic just loves it. Him and a few of his groupies done fell asleep on it together, that’s just how big and comfortable it is. Doja reclined back in the chair after kicking his $600 pair of Gucci sneakers off that Precious bought him.
“A hell of a night,” he said. Everyone agreed but they were focused on what Doja had on his mind. “Listen, I’ve been gone for a few months and I’ve had some time to get my mind right. But first let me start by saying this, I got out because they found, well my lawyer found a few things in my case which made them let me out. He hasn’t fully told me everything yet, but he said for sure I got a major lawsuit, so I gotta play my cards right and fall back, but that ain’t me.” He was about to continue but Exotic cut him off.
“Though that ain’t you, you gotta think smart,” said Exotic.
“My point exactly, that’s why I’m about to play the mirror of illusion. By that I’m sayin this, I’m gonna always play the front line and not be seen to the streets. Which brings me to my next situation. We taking over everything,” said Doja as he looked around to see their faces and to catch their reactions but none of them flinched. “When I sat everything I mean everything. Nobody sells drugs unless it's our people or they buying from us. We, not me, but we bout to take whole East coast piece by piece. I’m starting up a record label and Skyp, you and Flight gonna be over handling that. ‘Breaded 2 Da Max Ent.’we’re gonna be able to clean our money even more. Skyp, that broad you be fuckin with from Cali, her moms in the industry right? Call ol girl up, and her know you sendin for her and her moms to fly to Charleston in two days for a meeting, first class nothing less.”
Doja was grinning because their dog was on some ‘It’s our time to make move’ type shit. Doja started to roll up a blunt, as his phone started to ring playing “I need a thug in my life,” by Lil Boosie.
“Hey what’s up baby?” said Doja as he licked the blunt. “Okay baby, give me about an hour, an hour and a half at the most.” He rolled his eyes smiling. “Alright, I love you to and I’ll tell them what you say.” He hit the end button. “Listen we gotta wrap this up, my baby want me home. She said y’all gotta share me, y’all can play with me later.” He hit the blunt and everybody burst out laughing.
“But check this out Doja,” said Skyp as he looked at Flight Risk. “What about those up North niggas who trying to extort, and take over on the low? We gotta meeting with them pussies this evening.”
“You and Flight take all the money and all the work, then call me. Make an example out of them niggas, we ain’t to be fucked with,” said Doja.
Everybody started getting up to leave and Doja dapped them up as he was putting on his sneakers. “I love yall niggas. It’s time for us to make moves in life ya feel me.”
Lil Pistol stood up and walked to Doja. “Well, we just happen to love you to nigga. But fuck all the sentimental shit, you better carry your ass home before Precious fuck you up.”
Doja and everybody started laughing and Doja was headed to the door when Exotic stopped him.
“Here nigga, happy belated birthday,” he said as he handed him some keys.
“What’s this?” asked Doja.
“Hit the start button and find out baabbyy,” said Skyp.
Everyone started laughing and headed towards the door to watch Doja. He hit the start button and the Cherry wine 745i beeped and came alive. Doja turned around as his squad yelled. “Happy birthday my nigga.”
He was speechless, all he could do was dap his niggas up and tell them thank you. Doja threw the keys to the rental car to Exotic and told him to drop it off at Alamo for him. Doja got his thoughts together as purple haze smoke filled his lungs and he drove off in his new whip. Doja knew he had a real squad but forgot to tell them about Digga Man but he would tell them later. Now he was going home to spend some time with Precious and their crazy ass dog Nino.