by Mack Mama
Star Status Publishing
presents
(An Autobiography of an O.B.G)
BY:
Star Status Publishing
P.O Box 237
Derby CT 06418
www.mackmamamentor.com
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Tales of an Original Bad Girl
Copyright © 2011 by Mack Mama
ISBN: 0-9831178-0-2
ISBN-13 978-0-9831178-0-3
Library of Congress Control Number: 2011942277
Paperback Edition, 2012
Manufactured in the United States of America
All rights reserved Star Status Publishing books and the Star Logo are trademarks of Star Status Entertainment.
REVISED PRINT, Second Edition 2012
Designed by-Dashawn Taylor
Typesetting: HotBookCovers.com
Editor: James “Shaquell” Forbes
What other Authors are saying about
“TALES OF AN ORIGINAL BAD GIRL”
BY:
“I finished reading this memoir feeling like I know Mack Mama she bared her soul it was refreshing and very raw”….Dashawn Taylor author of From Poverty to Power Moves and The Kissed by the Devil – Book Series
“Tales of an Original Bad Girl is one of the best books I’ve read this year. It’s inspirational, entertaining, controversial and definitely a page turner. You won’t be able to put this one down” . Miz author of Bishop, Bulldog Crew, and Haters Animosity.
“It’s amazing to me how I was able to use two voices in this memoir. The voice of reason and the voice of insanity”……Mack Mama author of Daisy Jones.
“Mack Mama is the real McCoy, a genuine lady ‘G’ who tells a tumultuous tale that will have readers ripping through pages and shaking their heads in disbelief. Brooklyn born, Natoka “Mack Mama” Williams was reared in an urban hell where narcotics, betrayals, abandonment and violence were the norm. Little Natoka’s parents were both heroin addicts but conditions quickly deteriorated after her mother contracted AIDS. Natoka went from an A student in a school for the gifted to one of New York’s most notorious female desperados. Mack Mama slipped seamlessly from selling crack for the bloody Brooklyn gunslinger Fifty Cent, to the theft of high-end merchandise, to pimping, to organizing a credit card fraud ring, and shooting anyone who got in her way. Even prison couldn’t quell the Mack’s lust for a lavish lifestyle, she was all or nothing and she feared no wrath. She truly is an original bad girl.” Cavario H editor of Hip Hop Weekly and author of “Raised by Wolves”.
DEDICATION
I dedicate this Memoir to the memory of both my beloved mother Gaynelle Williams, and my godmother Louise A. Robinson. Without these two women I would not have been able to write my story.
My mother gave me life and my godmother nourished that life. I also dedicate this book to my Grandmother Janie “Nana” Williams for constantly being there for me in my time of need. It’s comforting to know that I can always call your house my home.
Last but not least to my darling daughter Velvet G. Washington so you can use it as a reminder to make the right choices in your life.
I love you all with every beat of my heart!
ACKNOWLEDEMENTS
First and foremost, I have to give praises to my lord and savior Jesus Christ, I want you to know that your prodigal daughter will be home soon.
I want to thank my big Sista’ Queenie for always being my rock, and being the greatest godmother on earth. You get the Louise A. Robinson award, and you know that is an honor. I love you and would gladly give you any one of my organs, if you ever needed it. You already have my heart. Eternal.
I love you Nana and I thank you for being there for me whenever I went to jail. You always took my calls and held on to my worldly possessions. You are so important to my life and you’re the only mom I have left. I pray all the time that you live to be 104, like your mom did, because Raquele, Velvet and I need you. You’re all we have left. p.s you’re a foxy 87 yr old lady (smile)
To my lil sister Raquele, you will always be my baby, and I will always take care of you, like I promised mommy. I love you and am so proud of your accomplishments. I always say “that should have been me”. You did it kid!. You defied the odds and made a choice to be successful. You are my star. If Queenie and I had big sisters like “us” we would have achieved the academic accomplishments. Like having a Master’s Degree and a PHD in Pharmacy like our other little sis Tammy, so that means you two ladies are lucky to have had us, to keep you girls focused (I stole some of the shine back )..lol
To my father Coydine Mackie, I want to say thank you for being a man and taking care of your responsibility when you were able to. I am happy you are in my life and it’s never too late to bond. You may not realize how much I love you, but you mean the world to me, and Velvet. You’ve made up for all the lost time. I couldn’t ask for a better dad or friend, for that matter.
I want to thank my partner Kenya “Sparkles” Williams, for restoring my faith in humanity. You were there for me without even knowing me. You are amazing, and I will never let you down, like others have. You went through all the fakers so you could appreciate the real deal baby! I love you till the death…
Velma Williams I love you, thanks for all the times you covered me on the Su-Su. You have embraced me, and my daughter into your family with open arms, and a loving heart. I don’t know what I would have done without my Connecticut family. Thank you!
Cheryl “Goldie” Samuels I have to give you a standing ovation for your constant loyalty, and love for me. You were there when I was in the midst of my grind and contributed with blind faith, and will be there at the end of the rainbow when I reach my pot of gold. Thank you for loving me so much that you never retaliated, and understanding the actions of a victim of abuse. You will always be my family I love you Turtle.
That brings me to my dear friend, Margaret “Poochie” Monroe. May God’s strength bring you out of the fire. I love you and I will always be there for you, as you have been for me.You were there from the start of Mack Mama, I used to wake you up, to come in the bathroom late at night, when we were in Albion, so you could listen to my new songs. I used to be so excited. Remember, you always encouraged me. Thank you, “Poochie”, “Diane” and “Margaret”. (smile)
My Paul, I love you and will never forget all of our days on the grind chasing that paper. I didn’t tell half of the stories about our escapades on the road, because I didn’t want to glorify or teach the kids how to be better criminal. You are way more that my partner in crime you’re one of my dearest friends. I will always cherish our memories together. I am so glad you were able to read my book before you passed away. November 13, 2011 a great man and my dearest friend left this earth. Rest in peace! Paul Harnik.
To my brother from another mother Sherm “The Worm” Adams you are a perfect example of change. I love you bro, you inspire me to keep my head up. If you can smile with your situation and, all you have been through than I better laugh like a hyena. Lol
Special Thank you to my fellow Authors Miz, and Dashawn Taylor
Miz you are the best and I am blessed to have met you. You are a real dude thanks for always dropping jewels on me about this book game. If you didn’t hook me up with Dashawn, I wouldn’t be this happy about the outcome of my product. Quality work hands down! You always look out for me, and I consider you my mentor in this biz. I rep you as much as you rep me, believe that!
Thank you Dashawn Taylor for doing such an awesome job designing my book covers. You had so much patience with me, and took your time with my photo gallery, which made it so HOT!! You saw my vision and made it happen. For that I will b
e forever grateful.
Thank you Gordon O’neil @Metropolust Photography my favorite photographer and friend, Thank you Super Dave for the great footage all these years ….you guys are the best!
I love all my facebook friends. Thanks for all the positive comments and the love, I have the best fans in the world, and I’m getting more every day. muah! I love you Darlins.
The same love goes out to my Twitter followers. Keep Retweeting ! love y’all.
To every Underground Artist that is striving for that big break, keep on grinding and paying your dues, regardless how long it takes. Time, nor any obstacles can stop what God has planned for you. I am living proof of that! I’m one of you and I made it!
Free Joseph “Mighty” Jackson! Keep your head up King, thanks for always being there for me. I will never forget our “Sundays”
James “Shaquell” Forbes, my comrade, thank you for always trying to find a solution for me to get this book done. I hope it’s everything you thought it would be, it’s the truth and I stick by it! Thank you very much for taking the time to re-edit this revised version of Tales of an OBG. You are a superb writer and I can’t wait to publish our anthology. It’s going to be a sizzler!
To Stacy “B.O” Knight congrats on your release, it was long awaited. Love you bro.
Thanks to my newest mentor, Alfred Adams Jr. a.k.a. Shaborn. I am so happy you are home, to grace us with your work. You are so talented and shared so much of your knowledge with me. Love you. Let’s get it!
To Walter “TuT” Johnson, you know how I feel about you. I will never be too far away. Loyalty and love!
To all my people on lock down that support me and purchase my (Music, Calendars, Books). I LOVE YOU, work out your body, and your mind. Keep reppin’ your girl Mack Mama..cheah!
Thanks to Street Connfinement Magazine, and Buddy for being the first publication to give me some shine when I came home. Shout out to Buddah, you are the best engineer in CT, thanks for all the love yall show Mack Mama.
Thanks to Cavario H. for being a real dude the most intelligent cat I know. Your words of wisdom are appreciated, and your well wishes for my success.
Shout out to all my girls behind bars, Rikers Island, Bedford Hills, Albion, Taconic, Bayview, York C.I, Danbury Federal and around the world. Use the time to enhance your mind, this incarceration may be a blessing in disguise. I found my talent sitting in a cell. I pray you can too. God Bless!
A Special thanks to all the Ladies and Gents in book clubs across the country, special thanks to: Diamond Eyes Book Club, and Dj Gatsby’s book club. You all have supported me and are simply the best! All4One (authors supporting authors) is also a dynamic group on facebook. Founded by Treasure E. Blue (thanks so much Treasure for being such a giving spirit, you really want to see us newbies blow) last but not least my favorite new author Fabiola Joseph creator of Art of Deceit you are a gifted writer, I can’t wait to read Porn Stars. Tangie and Daisy must meet soon
A special acknowledgment to all the fallen Soldiers from Brooklyn New York, rest in peace gone too soon but never forgotten! I miss you Tracy Washington, Velvet would have loved to meet her Uncle. I salute Ja, Bar, Baby Rock, Nubbs from East NY, Fly Ty, ShaSha, Killer Ben, Shuka (killer Ben’s lil brother), Juice, JuJu, Fly Ty, Larry “Low Top”, Saquon from Crown Heights, Wise from L.G, Pig from Pinkhouses, J.R from L.G, Nut from L.G, Dwayne from L.G ..It’s too many to name them all but each and every one of my friends are missed.
To all my homegirls that died from senseless violence or illnesses Rest in peace! Tracy and Baby Rudy who were brutally stabbed and burned to death, Lil Kisha who was brutally murdered by her boyfriend, Shawn from Lafayette Gardens who was shot and killed, her sister Red who died from an illness at 38, Cruisin who died from a violent fall from a window, Shauna from Fort Greene who was killed by a stray bullet, and all the females worldwide who have died far too young from murder or suicide. I will never forget your lives but for the grace of God it could have been me.
Also make sure you purchase my novel “DAISY JONES” and the sequel “MISTRESS” also the baby sister to this book “LESSONS OF AN ORIGINAL BAD GIRL”
For booking info email: [email protected]
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Happy Reading People!
Chapter One
BLOW
This is the story of my life. I was born Natoka Dora Williams to a heroin addicted mother named Gaynelle Williams and a heroin addicted father named Coydine Mackie. I was conceived by two addicts and born into the world addicted to heroin. In the seventies, Children’s Services didn’t take babies from their parents if they were born with drugs in their system. I wonder if I would have been better off if they had such a policy. Or maybe I was dealt the hand that God wanted me to have, because it made me the woman I am today. I made each chapter the title of a song from my soundtrack. My music reflects the life I underwent through the hustle, struggle, pain, fury and triumph. These tales are the truth as I remember them, and I want my readers to judge me not for I have sinned, but love me and pray that I win.
The definition of the word “tales” in the Merriam-Webster Dictionary is as follows: a story for children that involves, but is not limited to, fantastic forces and beings, e.g., fairies, wizards, and goblins.
I used the word “tales” in my title because I wrote my autobiography for the children that are from the ghettos around the world. Some of these children are faced with forces of evil by the allure of street life, and deal with goblins on a daily basis. I grew up dealing with hard-core circumstances that make the belief in fairies and fantasies almost impossible. These are my “Tales of an O.B.G.”
As long as I can remember, I had always wanted to blow-up and become rich and famous. I just knew in my heart that rich people didn’t have problems, because they seemed happy all of the time. I was a miserable child, but it wasn’t due to being mistreated or abused (like most cases). I simply, longed to be with my mother. She raised me up until I was five years old, and then she went to jail. At that point, my godmother, Louise A. Robinson (God rest her sweet soul), took me and my little sister in. That was the last time I lived with my mother until I turned fourteen. I loved my mother fiercely, but I could remember how disappointed and sad I was at times. For example, she would take me into the store while she stole merchandise to support her heroin addiction. Back then, I didn’t know she was high off of Heroin when she would take me to the shooting galleries in Harlem with her. My four year old mind would wonder why she and all her friends were always tired and fell asleep while they were standing up. I knew something was fishy, but I couldn’t figure it out. I just knew I wanted out of the dirty, smelly apartment, and I was hungry. Although my mother was a dope fiend, she was the most loving and fun mother a kid could ever have. She obviously didn’t use the best judgment, and was a terrible role model, but that lady loved me, and I felt her love in a tremendous way.
I never forgot the time she took me boosting, instructing me to give her a block, while she stuffed her bags with clothes. I had to be no more than three years old, but I knew very well that she was
doing something wrong, so I told her exactly how I felt. “Mommy, I don’t like when you take stuff from the store.” I whined
“Baby, Mommy won’t do it again. I just didn’t have the money” she would rationalize, and that simple excuse would pacify me. I was so worried about us getting caught, because sometimes “we” would. I was her co-defendant, and knew how to lie like a professional when we were apprehended. “Mister, please let us go. You made a mistake” I would plead, charming the undercover store detective with my childish innocence. It would work all the time. Even the store detective that knew she was a regular had felt sorry for me, so they would let her go after lecturing her and threatening to call Children’s Services on her if she trespassed again. They loved me, so they never made the call. I was a little ham and would start chatting away, before you knew it, they were laughing and playing with me. They would simply let us go without calling the police. My mother and I both knew the drill, but one time she went too far.
I was five years old when she took me to a popular, drug infested park, which was known for the variety of marijuana, heroin and pills that could be bought or sold there. It was in Manhattan on the lower east side. I remember she used to say, “Toki, we are going to the fourteenth Street Park to play.” My sister and I would get so excited, because we loved playing on the swings. We would be there all day, but when it got dark, we would be hungry and ready to leave. One particular day, however, she decided to sell her pills. She used to get them from the psychiatric doctors, for her depression, but she made it into another one of her hustles. The psych doctors gave her the good pills like Trazodone and Zanax. That was the last time I saw my mother until I turned seven years old. She was arrested and I was sent to live with my godmother and her husband, Maxwell Robinson (God bless his soul). My baby sister, Raquele, was already living with them. For some strange reason, Rocki never bonded with our mother. As a baby, she would scream uncontrollably, which eventually frayed our mother’s nerves and blew her high. It was so bad that our mother gave her to our god parents when she was very young. I was five years old when I joined my sister, who was about two years old by then.