As soon as Lex dropped me off in Rochelle Manor, I hit Bubba back as I headed through the cut to Ross. Rd.
“Yo what’s good?” Bubba answered on the first ring again.
“Yeah you still got the address to where you left your car programmed in your phone?”
“Hell yeah. You know I gotta know how to get back to my baby.”
“Aight, call a cab and meet me back there. Just wait in the parking lot.
“You mean now?”
“Nah. Right now.”
“Aight bru I’m on it.”
Thirty minutes later, we pulled up to The Lighthouse store in Bubba’s Charger. I made the four - bundle score and headed back to Lexes crib in The Key. The chubby chic with the black spiked hair’s name turned out to be Mandy. She was a dike and the girl with her was her bitch. I charged her ninety dollars a bundle. Since I was now finding out that it was a semi-drought, by law I had to tax just a little bit. Even at ninety dollars I was still hitting it ten dollars less than what they were used to. As we turned back into The Key, I handed Bubba the two ounces of dope and the nine - millimeter to lay across his lap. Everybody in the car had instructions not to open their fuckin mouth period, when Cuddy came to the car. When we rounded the corner, Cuddy was already there. Good. He and Lex were standing at the edge of the street leaning up against what I assumed to be Cuddy’s tan Maxima. Bubba and Jack were in the front seat while me and Jill sat in the back. We pulled up behind the Maxima and I called Cuddy up to the car.
“Banks what’s up my nigga?” Cuddy reached through the back window and gave me dap although I watched his eyes lock onto the pistol in Bubba’s lap.
“Aint shit my nigga. Same shit different day. You got that paper straight?” My peeps gotta get ready to hit the highway.”
“Yeah I got it right here bru.” Cuddy handed me the small paper bag he was holding as I pulled out and counted eight - thousand even. I tapped Bubba on the shoulder and he reached between his legs, handing Cuddy the two zones of boy out the window. Cuddy inspected it and seemed to be satisfied. “You say this that shit that be having em falling over?”
“The one and only.”
“Damn bru, thanks my nigga! I’m about to lose all my damn scores! Aint shit in Raleigh! Ay yo, if your peoples gonna still be straight, I know my niggas gonna wanna cop. I had to get my shit and do me first though. You know how it is Banks.” Cuddy smiled.
“Yeah I know my nigga.” I said as I made a show of passing Bubba the money. My phone vibrated on my hip, I looked down and it was a text. “Yo Cuddy just call your brother and he’ll call me if my peoples still around. I got an emergency I gotta get to. Drop me back off across the street,” I told Bubba. And with that we drove off.
I trapped all night Saturday. I fucked around wit the niggas in the Key till about 10:00 Saturday night, when most of the cats out there went to the club. One thing about Turnkey niggas, the club was almost mandatory every weekend. Lex had asked me earlier in the day if I was going, and I told him “Nah I’m gone chill this time.” My godmother Sonya, told me in her own words,
“Don’t be out there with them stupid motherfuckers. If you gone be out here, you come over here. Anything you need to have, you bring it in here and put it in Jay room.” So that’s what I did. Almost. Actually, the work I brought with me, I stashed in her back yard, that was fenced in with two vicious ass pitbulls named Bonnie and Capone. I’d known them both since they were puppies, and they both knew me, so that was Gucci. Bonnie was actually Bitches mother. They were mean as fuck though, and would kill any man, or dog that stepped foot in that backyard if they didn’t know you. And mama Sonya won’t that friendly, so they didn’t know many people. It won’t shit out the ordinary for my phone to be ringing off the hook and for scores to constantly be pulling up asking for D. J., because most of the niggas out there had phones that were jumping. Wedgedale Avenue, I found out was a million - dollar strip. And it was the perfect place for me to stay outta the spotlight of the city, and still stack my paper. To everybody out there I was just another nigga trying to come up. Which, in a sense I was. Cuddy called back twice. The first time for another egg. And the second time for two. I stuck to the script. Pulled up with Bubba and Jack and let Bubba hand him the work. I’d made almost eighteen bands in an eight - hour period off him alone. As it turned out, Sandy wasn’t lying. She knew every fuckin body! She brought me so many customers and copped so many bundles, I stopped counting! My phone never stopped ringing! I’d walk in between the houses, traveling back and forth, popping out at different locations to make it impossible for them to pinpoint where I was going and coming from. Sometimes I’d say meet me at the store, sometimes at the basketball court, sometimes in the Grays, never in the same spot twice in a row. The coke and dope sells never stopped coming up and down Wedgedale Avenue. And yeah, most of them were white. Now, if you been in the game for a while, I know you can remember back in the eighties or maybe even the early nineties whenever somebody would be out on the block trappin, and as soon as they saw somebody white they’d scream out “Man down! There go the police!” Well if you didn’t know by now, which I know you should, the streets have long ago evolved from that bullshit. In case you didn’t know they, do have black cops too. Once some snitch told the police not to send nobody white through the hood to make a buy and bust, that shit was dead. Now it’s more than likely some black undercover that’s gonna try and get you. Shit, it might be your homeboy that didn’t tell nobody he got popped the other night! Yeah. Mr. Tough guy that’s supposed to be so real, but ready to snitch out his whole team cause he facing two years! The main reason being, because as soon as they put the cuffs on him, the first thing he thinks about is “Oh shit! My girl!” He’s scared to death of leaving that broad out there. The same broad he stays treating like shit, while he’s out running the streets fucking other niggas that’s locked up girls. Now he knows the next nigga with rims on his car and a chain around his neck, gonna be running a football field worth of dick through every hole, “his girl” got. He starts thinking about all the freaky shit she be doing that “she claims” she aint never did to nobody else. That’s right tough guy. “She gone be doing it now!” Licking niggas asses on Saturday night and tonguing you down at visitation on Sunday. That shit scares him more than doing the time does! So, you know what he does? That’s right Sherlock. He straight pulls his skirt up to reveal that vagina he’s been hiding, and sets yo ass up. You can believe that like you believe in God. It’s the untold truth. So; the cops,or feds, or whatever the case may be, aint wasting no more time and money trying to send some lame ass white motherfucker to cop from you. For what? When he can go with sure thing? Your tough ass homeboy. The second thing your tough ass homeboy thinks about is how he’s been out here in the streets with that gun. Clapping at niggas, pulling out on niggas, and now he gotta go in the jail or penitentiary without that gun! And, he knows some of these same niggas is gonna be in there, and as soon as they see him, they gonna smack his teeth down his throat and have him washing they shitty boxers. Cause without that gun he’s what? A coward. A pussy hiding behind that gun. He aint trying to go through that. So, you know what he does? He sets yo ass up and sends you to the penitentiary in his place. Your tough ass homeboy. But anyway, like I was saying, I trapped all night Saturday. After everybody went to the club, it was so much money coming through that motherfucker it was unreal! I didn’t go to sleep period! Black hoodie, black jeans, black Timbs. And I went and got that paper! Dope sells continued to call me all through the night because they wanted to get their dope before they went to sleep. That way they didn’t have to worry about waking up sick. My nigga Kado stayed out all night with me so I made sure he got his weight up. Every time he sold out, I’d sell him whatever he needed. He started out with a quarter and by morning he had a big eighth. (4 ounces) That’s how hard it was jumping! Bubba had hit the highway with three ounces of boy and a promise from me to hit him harder when he came back with the bread.
“So, you still don’t trust me bru?” He asked.
“Almost. But we’ll see when you get back.”
I gave Jack and Jill, five bundles a piece and told them they could come back wit Bubba if they wanted to. By the time Lauryn pulled up in front of mama Sonya’s crib, the next morning around 11:30, I was still trapping and still hadn’t been to sleep. But as soon as I sat down into the plush seats of that 600 Benz, I was out like a light! With me, I had a McDonald’s bag full of bundles, and five ounces of coke. Two hard, three soft. When I woke up it was 12:30 and we were pulling out of the parking lot of Cracker Barrel on Hillsborough Rd. There was money in my lap. I glanced to the left and saw Sandy leaving the parking lot with Bill and Hank. I counted the money in my lap. Two hundred and eighty dollars. Four bundles worth. Lauryn was looking at me smiling as she pulled into the parking lot of the Fairfield Inn. “I know you didn’t just sell them some shit outta this bag?”
“Yes, I did.”
“How the hell yo know what to give em?”
“Teddy I’m a lawyer. And a large amount of my clients are drug dealers. They pay well. There’s no amount of drugs, that I haven’t seen, or know about. I didn’t wanna wake you. Don’t worry everything’s fine.” She said smiling as she reached in her pocketbook for her ID and credit card.
“You crazy as a motherfucker. You know that, don’t you?”
“Yes baby. Crazy over you.” She kissed me on the cheek, got out and headed to check us into a room. Damn. Peaches was right. I gotta quit fucking these chics so good. One of these broads is gone kill me!