by Corey Bryant
My partner Chi-Chi would come out there and get bout 20 bricks in which would hold his customers and hustlers down for a couple of weeks. He was chilling, doing his corporate thang. Living a family life and feeding some neighborhoods and small towns on the low! Sonny and his son would come out and score.
By now Sonny and his son, Lamont was getting money hard! I was dumping 40 bricks on Sonny in which he was flipping in a month. And his son was handling heroin and loud out in the Bluff. Once I saw he was a true-go-getter and a gangsta wit-it, I just drop a block of Boy on him along with 50 lbs. of mid and 50 lbs. of loud. My other partners Lil Dontay, his brother, my old school cousin.
They were getting yayo, mid and loud! Between the 3, that was 40 blocks, 200 lbs. of mid, and 75 lbs. of exotic weed. My other two cousins in the A, Jazzy and Lin were straight weed niggaz! Between the 2, that was 800 pounds of mid and 400 lbs. of loud. So, that left me with 100 blocks of fire cocaine to work with, 950 more pounds of mid, 425 lbs. of cush, and a couple of blocks of heroin! A couple of cats from Alabama were coming through shopping and I was fuckin with them heavy!
My partner Fat from Birmingham was getting half of the boy from me. About 2 ½ kilos of heroin. That was $250,000 coming from him monthly. My nigga Kindred was coming from Birmingham was getting 10 keys of cocaine a week. I’m selling them to him for 20 thousand apiece. That’s 200K a week for me. 800 thousand a month! I got some fam in Anniston, Alabama area getting 10 keys along with 200 pounds every 2 weeks and I front him 10 more keys with them. So that’s 40 a month gone through him. 800k a month there for me! 2 niggaz I knew from Montgomery had started getting 5 piece kilos of cocaine.
My partner Jack out of Brownville Community in Bama was getting 5 bricks of coke. My cuz Lil One in Opelika was getting 3 bricks of cocaine and 250 lbs. of midgie, and 100 lbs. of loud. And my cousin in Talladega, stay real was getting 2 bricks of coke, 100 lbs. of midgie, and 25 lbs. of exotic weed. That left me 300 lbs. of midgie and 300 lbs. of loud. I was shooting 100 lbs. of midgie to a chic I been knowing named Shelly over in Mississippi. Letting her split that with her cousin Christy who be everywhere between Atlanta, Opelika, Alabama, and Tuscaloosa, AL. The 200 lbs. of midgie and 300 lbs. of loud was dumped on Brainhead and he was hustling and feeding his goons with that! And acting the fuck up!!
Part 2
Any organization, criminal, etc. needs to be very well-funded, very well armed, very well organized, very well self-contained and very loyal!!
-Corey Bryant
Chapter 9
Phase 2 (2 yrs. Free)
“Yeah, Yeah, Yeah!! Nigga I heard dat! But you need to come on and turn something in!” Said Brainhead in his signature rapid flow.
“Turn something in?” Asked the voice on the other end of the phone.
“Is all dat money there?!” Said Brainhead to a hustler who was shopping with him at the same time. The money was in different stacks in front of Brainhead on a picnic table. This nigga was in the park damn near open air-trapping like in the late ’80s and early '90s on the block! Button-down Versace shirt, wide-open, flexing his chest, chains, and 2 pistols!
“Yeah, it’s all there!” Said the customer as he nervously looked around at Brainhead’s goons, which were high and flexin their iron in some form or fashion. All 3 of them clutchin! Brainhead was already turned up naturally and a nigga pulled up in the park, in front of me bumping that Eldorado red (out of Montgomery) and you Gotti.
“It’s a concrete jungle! With lions, tigers, and bears.” Rapped Brainhead, reciting the lyrics to the songs as he threw the grocery bag on the table and bounced around. Then somebody in another car was bumping “War-ready” by Rick Ross and Jeezy. He sho-nuff turned up then! Front-line when you’re war-ready just another hom-i-cide! When you’re war ready!
“That’s how you got to be my nigga!” Said Brainhead as he bobbed his head like a rock star and clutched and pulled his twin p89z, military-issued pistols, and started waving them over his head!
“Hold up Bru!” Said the nervous customer thinking he was about to get jacked.
“Oh, my bad, you straight!” Said Brainhead, motioning with the pistols toward the pack. “Nigga I be rappin and trappin. Watch dis freestyle!” Said Brainhead as he began rapping to the Rick Ross song. “This nigga wild!” I was saying to myself as I stepped out of my white drop head phantom coupe Rolls Royce. Brainhead, my lil potna /brotha/ goon was the flagship artist on my new record label, R.I.C.O entertainment. A young henchman, with some goons under him, surprisingly muscled his way into the rap game just bullshitting around in my studio.
I had got my trucking company logistics off the ground and was running good within 6 months. I’m getting 800 to 1,000 kilos of good nearly raw blow! 10 to 15,000 lbs. of weed straight from Mexico. I had to get a couple of more farms for all this work! I got a farm right outside of Jacksonville, Florida. Another warehouse and about 10 more 18 wheelers to go along with it. So I can run another logistic trucking company in Columbus, Georgia. A farm out in Macon County near Hurtsboro, Alabama. A farm down in Holatee Trail, Florida. Easy to get to when I’m down in Miami at my 10,000 square foot mansion there. My Luis V luggage and duffle bags stayed packed because at any given time I’m on the road making money, and orchestrating plays wherever I’m at!
The life of a hustler! A big-time hustler though! If I’m in Vegas kicking it with my white partner from high school Chauncey. If the supply out there is low and demand is high for some good coke. I’ll have one of my 18 wheelers come through and supply the town. Just an example of how I’m getting down! “Nigga you must think it’s 1989 or sumthin?!” I asked Brainhead, raising his awareness for real.
“Oh-oh wusup Big Bru!!” Smiled Brainhead, in a “Damn you caught me trippin look!” He was a young gangsta, but he still respected me. “Just checkin on you! I heard you were over here, so I decided to drop through and see what’s crackin!” I said.
“Same ole, same ole, Big Bru! Getting to the money!” Said Brainhead, “You talked to Marco?” Asked Brainhead. Referring to the assistant of my record label. “Yeah… Everything is set up for tomorrow! The video shoot and all!”
“Who gone shoot it? Lil X? I know they got us a budget to handle that.” Said Brainhead. My record label had sealed a deal with Atlantic once they caught wind of Brainhead’s single and the numbers they were doing on the sound scan.
“Yeah… He going to do it. It’s going to be shot right here in the A! We hittin da gutter spots and a couple of strip clubs! Nigga y’all… get y’all shit together. It’s goin down!” I said hyping these young niggaz on up.
“Oh-oh, I got to have da Lac in my video! Wit dat tool in my hand!” Said Brainhead.
“Pull da donks out nigga!” Said one of Brainhead’s goons. We discussed a lil more business before I left. These young niggaz are handling their business in these streets! With the exotic weed and oh… The extortion games!!
(2 Months Earlier)
Brainhead and his crew are already the types of niggaz who were Jack Boys. When they were younger down for the beef, they will act an ass with that gunplay. So, it was nothing to check some niggaz when they got in their lanes or my lane with the bullshit! I tried not to operate like that! You know putting down the muscle game with the violent drama and all but, sometimes there comes a time when niggaz need chastising! Like my nigga Blackjack would say and I am a nigga from the ’80s and '90s when the word loyalty meant something! A way of life and niggaz was crewed up and click tight! Street organized crime type of shit. Only now I’m taking things to the corporate level and gangsta! Mobbed up! Shit kind of got crazy when these lil niggaz over on the south side had crossed Brainhead. One or 2 of his lil partners over there was throwing the loud weed on by the pound!
So, some of Brainhead’s lil partners and ex-plug, a nigga named Faygo got on some more shit with them. Like saying they can’t hustle their product on that side of town period! That’s when the shit started!
At first, Brainhead was letting t
he shit slide until one night he was over there supplying and serving his partners and the opposition sent some flunkies over to their spot trying to intercept the drop-off. I heard the plot through this fine assed stripper named Candy who danced at the Magic City. I had banged the pussy one night, and she told me through some pillow talk and a blunt of cush that the nigga Faygo was on some hating shit. That he was going to send some young niggaz over to see Brainhead and his lil partners the next time he hears or sees them over that way. I laced my lil brother Brainhead up to the plot.
So, on that same night, they came! When they came through little did, they know that Brainhead had his lil goons outside hiding in the dark. So, when they got ready to kick the door, they were met from behind by 4 niggaz strapped with some choppers equipped with infra-red beams.
“Whoa! What y’all niggaz bout to do?!” Said Dingo. As he led the way by hitting one of the would-be robbers in the head with the stock of the A.K.
“Augh!!” Hollered the masked-up thug. It was four of them also, so each one of Brainhead’s ambush squad had a man drawn down on. The door opened and the robbers were ushered in. One tried to buck and make a break back out the door. “FWOP!!” Thundered the Glock 40 as the bullet penetrated the back of the would-be runner’s skull exploding the front of his forehead and slamming him into the door.
“Whoa!! Hold up Dawg!” Screamed one of the robbers as Brainhead beat on his head with the butt of the smoking pistol. “Who sent yo Bitch ass!” Said Brainhead as he stomped the robber.
“Aaawww! Augh… Augh! Holdup man! Faygo! Faygo sent us man! Please don’t kill me, man!” Screamed the robber.
“Dat nigga set us up! Dat nigga put us on a dummy lick!” Said another one of the face-down robbers.
“Turn over nigga!” Said Dingo as he kicked the second robber in his ribs forcing him to lay face up.
“Take off dat mask!” Commanded Brainhead.
Dingo snatched the mask off. “Uhh- huh!!” Said Brainhead as he looks into the eyes of one of his cousin's lil partners. “Damn my nigga, I ain’t know yo wit da fuck shit!” Brainhead had been looking out for this nigga on the strength of his cousin.
“Man, I didn’t know what was goin on. Who they was talkin bout getting and…” FWOP!!” Augh!” Screamed the robber in agony after Brainhead shot him in his knee cap.
“Shut the fuck up nigga!” Said Brainhead. “I tell you what… where yo phone nigga?!” Brainhead was going through the robber’s pockets and grabbed his phone. “Here” Said Brainhead as he was handing the phone to the robber. “Call that nigga Faygo!”
Dude was in so much pain trying to hold his knee, he couldn’t focus much on making the call.
“Give me da mothafucka!” Said Brainhead getting impatient as he went to the contacts and found Faygo’s number.
“Yo! Wusup?! Y’all handle dat?” Said Faygo as he answered the phone.
“Yea-Yea-Yea, my nigga, dey handled DAT aight!!” Said Brainhead in his signature rapid flow. The phone went deathly quiet for a couple of seconds. “Aye, nigga you still there?” Asked Brainhead.
“Hey Bru who dis?!” Asked Faygo.
“You need to find you some more goons, Bru! These niggas sweet and soft as fuck! Look at these niggaz!” Said Brainhead as he took a picture of the would-be robbers lying on the floor. One of them facedown at the door dead, shot in the back of the head. One grippin a bloody knee, and the other one on his back with an assault rifle pressed against his jaw. “You still there nigga?!” asked Brainhead.
“Maan who the fuck this is?!” Hollered Faygo on the other end of the phone, obviously mad and scared!
“Nigga calm yo bitch ass down before I go see yo mama!” Said Brainhead.
“My ma…” “Yeah yo mama! Bitch ass nigga!” Interrupted Brainhead. “Now check this out… Potna! This what it is for now on since you want to play gangsta and send some lames to do a gangsta’s job. When I see a nigga holding any work or any nigga affiliated wit yo Busta ass they gon have to turn something in!”
“Turn something in?!” Questioned Faygo.
“Yeah turn something in… lame!” Said Brainhead.
“Nigga, you know who you fucking wit?!” Screamed Faygo and with that Brainhead shot, the robber who was clutching his knee in the head two times and Dingo shot the other one in the face with the assault rifle.
“Nigga, that’s what I think about yo duck ass!” Then sent him a pic of his slain partners. “Nigga matter of fact, when I see you uma put that F and N on you if you don’t pay me my shit!!” And with that Brainhead hung up the phone and walked out of the spot.
Faygo was furious as he paced the floor after throwing his phone and busting it against the wall. It wasn’t a good 24 hrs. After that, Brainhead’s crew and affiliates had started their extortion campaign!
“Man wusup Bra?!” Said the guy from Mobile, Alabama who was getting caught in the crossfire. He was visiting and copping pounds from one of Faygo's Lieutenants. “ “Dis.” Said Lansky casually as he shot him in his thigh with the silenced .45 Magnum. “Augh! What the fuck!!” Screamed the Mobile Trafficker.
“Sorry Bra!! You got caught up in the crossfire.” Said Brainhead as he grabbed the duffle bag which sat on the couch beside him and Faygo’s lieutenant. They had been scoping his lieutenant as soon as they left the previous robbery gone bad scene.
“Call Faygo nigga!” Said Brainhead as he aimed the F and N assault pistol at Faygo’s lieutenant and with no hesitation he speed-dialed him.
“Wusup shawty?” asked Faygo on the other end.
“Ay Bru… dey got me.” Said the lieutenant.
“What?!” Asked Faygo sounding startled.
By then Brainhead was snatching the phone “Hey old bitch ass nigga! You know who this is?!” Said Brainhead. “This strike two! Um coming at you Bwoy!! Um on yo ass nigga! You better tell the rest of yo niggaz be ready to turn something in! This shit like the state property movie! Get down or lay down!”
Brainhead hung the phone up and shot Faygo’s partner in the head and Lansky shot the Mobile, Alabama trafficker in the head. They grabbed the duffle bag of money, the duffle bag with the pounds of loud, a couple of bricks of cocaine, and left.
The next couple of days the city was in a buzz about what was going on in the streets with these young niggaz off the West Side, who are extorting Faygo and whoever else wants to buck and not turn something in! The word was that these dudes hustle and one of them was an up-and-coming rapper.
“I know who they are,” I said to my old school cousin out of Adamsville.
“You do?” He asked with curiosity in his eyes.
“One of my lil potnaz chastising Faygo for trying to put down on him hating. So, he’s putting back down on him.”
“Well, you need to stop him cuz. They’re making shit hot and one of my potnaz out of New York named Big Lo be fuckin wit Faygo wit the coke.” Said my Cuzzin Alvin.
My cousin had stopped by my studio record label headquarters to talk which was a morning ritual. That was when we smoked joints of Cali, discussed family and business. I gave it a lil thought while cuz looked at me expectantly.
“What you going to do cuz?” Asked Alvin. That’s when I picked up my iPhone and texted Brainhead. (Come to the studio when you get a chance!) “He’ll be over to holla at me cuz,” I said, as I sat my phone back down.
“Good… talk some sense into the youngsta! You… we don’t need no big ass drug war going on in the city! That’s gonna draw too many Feds, ATF… all types of alphabet boyz! You out of all folks should know when dope boys war. It brings Bussin dem big ole guns shootin and killin folks!” Said Alvin, as he was heading out the door. Stopping and looking back as he put on his Versace shades for effect. “Serious cuz and wit dat um gone!”
No doubt cuz was right. Not to mention all of us had felonies and wasn’t trying to go back to the pen! Since I’ve been out, I brought my cousin back up! He was his old self-driving Jags, Lacs, big pretty trucks, and living in exclusive
houses! Developing and training those who have been loyal can create a sense of family. That’s very important to the well-being of the whole organization.
So, I accept my cousin’s hippin and grooming, and I do the same towards the youngins under me.
“Wusup Big Bru?!” Said Brainhead as he swaggered in my office. We bumped fists as he sat across from me at my desk.
“Oh, um just koolin,” I said as I lit up a cigarillo of some O.G. Cush. “Dig this… you might need to slow yo role fuckin wit dat nigga Faygo.”
“Man, I might kill dat bitch!” Said Brainhead right before he hit the blunt. “Dat nigga didn’t have no business trying to get in my business! You feel me?!” “I don’t bother none of these niggaz. Ever since I been out I've been chillin! Fuckin hoes and getting me some money!”
“I feel ya lil Bru!” I said. “Don’t get me wrong I understand exactly where you’re coming from! Um just saying though… we got to think about your rap career! You bout to blow up my nigga! This label gonna be like rap-a lot, suave house, death-row, no limit, and cash money in the 90’s when they were on fire! You see how yo single jumpin nigga?!”
“Yea, yea, yeah, I feel ya bru, but…”
“But hold up… check this lil bru,” I said interrupting Brainhead. “These folks da police are hot as hell and trying to figure out what’s going on! We don’t need no extra heat and we don’t want that nigga goin to the police!”
“That nigga wants war!” Said Brainhead. “he told this lil young nigga who be fuckin my cousin Annette! Said he going to put a hit on every nigga who fuck with me!”
With that, I got quiet because that could mean me too! This nigga Faygo trying to make my whole empire fall! With that kind of shit in the air if he’s actually for real my record label and everything else will be in jeopardy! They are my investments and income-generating assets… Including my people in the streets and up-and-coming artists. Got to protect that and protect me as well! They know that I’m down with Brainhead! He’s not getting a chance to fuck with me!