Streets of New York. Mark Anthony

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ he used to do back in the days. Ever since he got custody of his daughter, the flow of pussy had slowed. He spent more time with his daughter, and loving every minute of it.

      Promise tried to live a normal life but that was difficult when raising a child and at the same time being a Brooklyn stick-up kid. It was how he made his money. Promise was robbing niggas in the hood, pimps, hustlers, and drug dealers. Shit, if they were balling and flashing then they would just get got.

      Squeeze played the game like that and brought the others in. He was always plotting and scheming, finally he put his niggas on.

      “We can make some real money,” he had told them. “Real money, real soon,” Squeeze had said.

      Lately Promise had been feeling a change of heart about what he did. He had Ashley to take care of and didn’t wanna take a chance of losing his daughter by getting got out there or, getting locked up, worse, being killed by robbing one of the wrong niggas in the streets. He’d been having a change of heart lately wanting out but the money was too good.

      Squeeze and the team had been doing what they do for years now. They had their ups and downs in the game but on the real, shit paid off for niggas. They were all pushing nice cars and flossing nice jewelry and clothes. In one month, niggas might make up to $25,000, maybe $30,000 if shit flowed right for them and that’s if they caught a true baller lapsing.

      They might catch that nigga for a few bricks and then they’d go out to Jersey and hustle them same keys for a wholesale price, hooking niggas up out there lovely. And if it came down to it, they might occasionally go out and do some B & E’s, hitting up homes in Long Island, Staten Island, and even New Jersey. Squeeze got his niggas into all kinds of shit because he was a money nigga, a hustler willing and ready to get that money by any means necessary.

      The one good thing about Promise’s track record in his life of crime was that he had never killed anyone. Too bad he couldn’t speak for the rest of the fellows in his crew especially Squeeze. Promise might have been an accessory to murder, assault, and other shit like that but the nigga never took a life, never pulled the trigger therefore, the nigga can sometimes sleep easy at nights. Lately, even being an accomplice still fucked with his conscience.

      He planned to meet with Squeeze and the rest of the guys around 8:30 at Squeeze’s uncle’s crib. Squeeze’s uncle was an ol’ school hustler who’d been in and out of prison since he was fifteen. He stayed in the basement with his girl in a brownstone on Kingston Ave. His girl’s family had the rest of the crib upstairs.

      Promise was late pulling up in front of the place at 9:15. He rushed out his vehicle and dashed down the steps, ringing the basement bell. Squeeze’s Uncle Junior answered the door in dirty jeans and a torn wife-beater.

      “Nigga, you late,” Uncle Junior stated with a cigarette dangling from his lips. “You got my nephew waiting for your punk ass. We got work to do, nigga!”

      Promise looked at Uncle Junior not even acknowledging his presence and walked right by him. Promise entered the basement apartment and saw his niggas sitting on an old green couch smoking trees and talking.

      “Damn, Promise. What da fuck, yo? You got us waiting down here forever,” Pooh shouted.

      “Nigga, I had to take my daughter to school, ahight?” Promise answered with annoyance.

      “Yeah, whatever, my nigga,” Squeeze said getting up out of his seat and approaching Promise. He gave him dap and a hug. “I’m glad you came anyway. You know we can’t do this shit without you, my nigga.”

      “I still say you should leave his punk ass out and bring me in wit’ y’all. I need to get dis money too, nigga,” Uncle Junior chimed in, swaggering into the room behind Promise. His breath was reeking of alcohol.

      “Uncle Junior, look at you. It ain’t even noon yet and you’re halfway drunk, man. Nigga, you stay your ass home. Niggas can’t be having you fuck our shit up.”

      Uncle Junior plopped down on the couch next to Show. Show never liking the nigga, glared at him. Uncle Junior was not a well-liked guy in da hood. He was considered a fuck up to most and a drunk to many. It was a wonder how his woman put up with him. He wasn’t about shit and never would be.

      It was even a shock that the nigga got a bitch to have under his arms at all. Carina, they say she was too nice of a girl to be with a man like Uncle Junior. She was a pretty bitch too. The nigga must’ve got that magic-stick to keep a woman like her around.

      “Uncle Junior, your breath stinks!” Show insulted rising out of his seat and sitting down next to Pooh.

      “Fuck y’all niggas. Y’all mutha-fuckas gonna give me respect in my own damn house,” Junior demanded.

      “Fuck you, drunk,” Show replied. “I wanna see you throw me out.”

      “Youngblood, don’t fuckin’ test me. I don’t give a fuck how drunk you may think I am or how big your fat ass is. I’ll still…”

      “Y’all two just shut da fuck up for now. Dammit! Y’all niggas acting like bitches,” Squeeze shouted.

      “Call your fuckin’ uncle off then, Squeeze,” Show said.

      “Show, chill out. We got business to take care of today. You wanna get this money today? Huh, nigga?”

      “Ahigit, Uncle Junior take your ass in the back room so me and my niggas can talk some business.”

      “Why, it’s my place, nigga! I don’t see you paying rent here,” Junior exclaimed.

      “Nigga, I said take your fuckin’ ass into the back room before I come over there and get real on you,” Squeeze shouted.

      Uncle Junior appeared punk’d, getting screamed on by his own flesh and blood, slowly stood up. He peered around and slowly walked off to the bedroom in the back. Everyone waited and watched, making sure he was gone before getting back to the business at hand.

      “I got word on them niggas that be over on Tompkins and Myrtle. They holding serious weight up in them buildings,” Squeeze informed his niggas. “I’ve been staking the place out regularly.”

      “So what you saying, Squeeze? You ready to hit ‘em up?” Pooh asked.

      “Yeah.”

      “When?”

      “Today.”

      “Nigga is you crazy!” Promise interjected, “We ain’t plan for dis shit. We don’t know what those niggas are holding up in there and how many niggas be up in there. It’s too risky, Squeeze.”

      “Fuck dat! They ain’t packin’ heat like that. Niggas up in them buildings are too laidback. They be thinking niggas can’t get at them. They thinking they can’t get got, Promise. We gotta let ‘em know.”

      “Fuck it, nigga. I’m down for it,” Show said.

      “What about you, Pooh? The money’s there, no question to it. If we don’t get at these niggas today, no telling when might be our next chance.”

      “Fuck it! I’m in too,” Pooh agreed.

      Squeeze looked over at Promise who was still СКАЧАТЬ