his face. “I told you to drive your own car, but you just had to ride wit me . . . so if you not talkin’ about leaving right now, then you gon’ have to catch a cab home, flat out.”
“Whateva, Koran.” She rolled her eyes and waved him off.
“Man, cut that bullshit out.” He grabbed her by the arm and made her face him. “Quit actin’ like a fuckin’ baby. I came wit you, didn’t I?”
“Yes.”
“A’ight then, well fix yo’ fuckin’ face? Here.” He handed her a stack of one hundred dollar bills. “That’s enough for you to get home and for you to buy yourself something. Tell Malik I love him.”
“Are you gon’ come over for dinner?” Trina called after him with a disappointed look on her face.
“I don’t know. I’ll call you later and let you know.”
Chapter Two
Luv Is U
AZ’s “Wanna Be There” played softly from the Alpine speakers inside Sheek’s Land Rover. He and Koran sat with the seats tilted back, puffing on a cigarillo stuffed with the finest Dro St. Louis had to offer. Neither man gave a fuck that they were sitting on the police station parking lot waiting on O to come out. Fuck the police. The world was theirs for the taking and nobody, not even the police, was gonna stop them from getting their shine on.
“I wish this dude would hurry up.” Koran shifted in his seat to get more comfortable.
“Right, I got shit I need to do,” Sheek responded.
“On the real, I wanna smack this nigga. Like, how the fuck he get locked up for five warrants in five different municipalities? What the fuck this nigga be doing? He know what type of shit we on. I schooled him personally on the game. I told him to let his shit bubble on the low and let these other niggas get the name and fame. I ain’t got time to be bailing this nigga out for a suspended license and unpaid parking tickets.”
“He young. You know how these cats are, man. They don’t know shit. They think they can’t be touched, especially O. That nigga walk around wit his chest out like he fuckin’. . .Tony Montana or some shit. I’m tellin’ you, the boy straight feelin’ his self. O be on some wild shit, man. I heard the dude smoke Dips.”
“What?” Koran said, surprised by the news.
“Yeah, Rock said every time he see ’em he be on some bugged out shit. He said one night they was at Society, kickin’ it, right? And O was actin’ a fool. He said the dude bought out the bar, was making it rain, mean mugging niggas, gettin’ into it wit ’em over dumb shit. And I know what he speakin’ is the truth. ‘Cause in the past month alone I’ve had to check the lil’ dude at least twice and you know that’s too much talkin’ for me. But on the strength of you and that being your man, I haven’t cocked the steel on him. But I’m tellin’ you . . . that lil’ nigga got one more time to test me, B, for real, and it’s gon’ be some slow singing and flower bringing.”
“Like you said, he young so why the fuck you wanna kill the nigga, Sheek?” Koran cracked up. “Yo’ ass don’t give a fuck. Yo’ muthafuckin’ grandma could look at you crazy and you would wanna blast her.”
“Fuck you, nigga.” Sheek couldn’t help but laugh, too. “I love my Nana Pearl.”
“Wow, okay, enough about Nana Pearl. I’ma holla at the nigga though. Me and him gon’ have a one-on-one. O a good dude. He just gotta calm down. He doing too much. All the ice and wavy hair bitches is gettin’ to his head.”
“Somebody better talk to him—”
“Yoooooo I forgot to tell you,” Koran interrupted him, excited.
“Damn, nigga, calm yo’ ole’ extra happy ass down.”
“Check it, guess who I ran into the other day?”
“Who, Tameka?” Sheek chuckled.
“Man, fuck nah.” Koran tuned up his face at the thought of her. “If I ever see that crazy bitch I’ma slap the shit outta her.”
“Well,
“Whateva, Koran.” She rolled her eyes and waved him off.
“Man, cut that bullshit out.” He grabbed her by the arm and made her face him. “Quit actin’ like a fuckin’ baby. I came wit you, didn’t I?”
“Yes.”
“A’ight then, well fix yo’ fuckin’ face? Here.” He handed her a stack of one hundred dollar bills. “That’s enough for you to get home and for you to buy yourself something. Tell Malik I love him.”
“Are you gon’ come over for dinner?” Trina called after him with a disappointed look on her face.
“I don’t know. I’ll call you later and let you know.”
Chapter Two
Luv Is U
AZ’s “Wanna Be There” played softly from the Alpine speakers inside Sheek’s Land Rover. He and Koran sat with the seats tilted back, puffing on a cigarillo stuffed with the finest Dro St. Louis had to offer. Neither man gave a fuck that they were sitting on the police station parking lot waiting on O to come out. Fuck the police. The world was theirs for the taking and nobody, not even the police, was gonna stop them from getting their shine on.
“I wish this dude would hurry up.” Koran shifted in his seat to get more comfortable.
“Right, I got shit I need to do,” Sheek responded.
“On the real, I wanna smack this nigga. Like, how the fuck he get locked up for five warrants in five different municipalities? What the fuck this nigga be doing? He know what type of shit we on. I schooled him personally on the game. I told him to let his shit bubble on the low and let these other niggas get the name and fame. I ain’t got time to be bailing this nigga out for a suspended license and unpaid parking tickets.”
“He young. You know how these cats are, man. They don’t know shit. They think they can’t be touched, especially O. That nigga walk around wit his chest out like he fuckin’. . .Tony Montana or some shit. I’m tellin’ you, the boy straight feelin’ his self. O be on some wild shit, man. I heard the dude smoke Dips.”
“What?” Koran said, surprised by the news.
“Yeah, Rock said every time he see ’em he be on some bugged out shit. He said one night they was at Society, kickin’ it, right? And O was actin’ a fool. He said the dude bought out the bar, was making it rain, mean mugging niggas, gettin’ into it wit ’em over dumb shit. And I know what he speakin’ is the truth. ‘Cause in the past month alone I’ve had to check the lil’ dude at least twice and you know that’s too much talkin’ for me. But on the strength of you and that being your man, I haven’t cocked the steel on him. But I’m tellin’ you . . . that lil’ nigga got one more time to test me, B, for real, and it’s gon’ be some slow singing and flower bringing.”
“Like you said, he young so why the fuck you wanna kill the nigga, Sheek?” Koran cracked up. “Yo’ ass don’t give a fuck. Yo’ muthafuckin’ grandma could look at you crazy and you would wanna blast her.”
“Fuck you, nigga.” Sheek couldn’t help but laugh, too. “I love my Nana Pearl.”
“Wow, okay, enough about Nana Pearl. I’ma holla at the nigga though. Me and him gon’ have a one-on-one. O a good dude. He just gotta calm down. He doing too much. All the ice and wavy hair bitches is gettin’ to his head.”
“Somebody better talk to him—”
“Yoooooo I forgot to tell you,” Koran interrupted him, excited.
“Damn, nigga, calm yo’ ole’ extra happy ass down.”
“Check it, guess who I ran into the other day?”
“Who, Tameka?” Sheek chuckled.
“Man, fuck nah.” Koran tuned up his face at the thought of her. “If I ever see that crazy bitch I’ma slap the shit outta her.”
“Well,
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