Welfare Wifeys
Page 9
“So what? Niggaz get killed every day. What’s so special about that stiff in PA?” Changa asked.
“Because we know him!” Ras said excitedly. “Y’all don’t remember that cat Rock Head from 140th?”
“You mean that dude who snitched on all those people? Fuck him, I got a cousin doing ten flat because of his rat ass,” Rico said. “I think all snitches should be tortured and put to death.”
“He was tortured alright. The cause of death is officially a cocaine overdose, but dig this. They stuck a knife in his ass and cut out his tongue!” Ras read the details of the article to them.
“Then it was a fitting death for his bitch ass.” Rico sat on the floor. “Now instead of you chasing news articles like some fucking hard-up reporter I suggest you get back to your block to make sure the shift change goes smoothly. I’m gonna be spending the next few days getting ready for my niece’s wedding, so I ain’t gonna have time to babysit you mutts.”
“Damn, that reminds me, I got a sacred union of my own that I need to get ready for in a few.” Lee rubbed his hands greedily.
“Dawg, you’re always chasing pussy,” Ras said. He had seen Lee with chicks that looked like they’d stepped off the silver screen and he secretly resented him for it.
“If you’d seen this broad you’d be chasing her too,” Lee replied. “And I know you ain’t talking the way you and that hood-booger been hugged up lately. You getting all that cake on the block and your wife a project bitch!” Lee laughed at him.
“Watch you mouth, nigga. Mimi ain’t no project bitch, she just lives there,” Ras said.
Lee looked at him sideways. “Nigga, you know all them hos outta Taft is straight hood rats. You’ve had your head jammed so far in her ass that I’m surprised she ain’t convinced you to flip Blood yet.”
“Fuck outta here, that’s her thing not mine. The only flag I’m waving is a green one for this paper!” Ras assured him.
“You better be careful, them gang bitches can be scandalous as hell,” Changa warned.
“Nah, Mimi is different.”
“Whatever, nigga. I’m getting outta here to go dive off in something. I’ll holla.” Lee walked off.
“Yeah, I’ll catch you guys on the come around.” Ras went in the other direction.
Rico shook his head. “Pussy is gonna be the death of both them niggaz.”
PART 2
Welcome to the Jungle
Chapter 10
Sahara was as high as a kite when the taxi deposited her on 124th and LaSalle. Scar had popped a bottle of Grey Goose and fired up two blunts of some of the stickiest weed she’d ever smoked and they were all feeling nice. When he’d thought they were all zooted Scar started getting touchy so Sahara concocted an excuse about having to leave to check on one of her aunts who was visiting from the Ivory Coast. She had been around the block far too long to fall into the trap he was trying to set. Scar was handling a few dollars but his paper was hardly long enough to get in Sahara’s pants, which was more than she could say for Boots’s thirsty ass. When Sahara had left, Boots was still sitting on the bed dreamy-eyed while Scar fondled her breasts.
As she cut up the small path leading to building 3150 she spotted a white on white 750 easing to a stop at the bus stop on the avenue. The car was heavily tinted but she knew someone important was in it the way the young girls and guys began to flock around it. Three young cats got out and pushed the crowd back to make room for the driver to exit the vehicle. He was a brown-skinned cat who wore his hair in neat cornrows with a big red medallion hanging from his neck. The driver was familiar to her but she couldn’t think of where she had seen him before until one of the girls shouted the name Animal just before she fainted into her friend’s arms.
Sahara had seen Animal in videos, but he was far sexier in person. His three cronies talked shit and snapped pictures with the young groupies as if they were the ones that had an album coming out, but the Animal just smiled and nodded politely. From what Sahara remembered hearing about him from his days on the streets he was supposed to be some kind of monster, but he struck her as more of a bashful kid than anything. There was a childlike shyness to him as he stood there signing autographs in front of the projects that peeked Sahara’s curiosity. She had just made up her mind to go over and try to cut into the star when the lobby door of 3150 swung open and out stepped the man she had come uptown to see, King James.
King was a brute of a man standing at nearly six feet four and weighing somewhere in the mid-two hundreds. He was dressed in a navy-blue tracksuit with a pair of white on white Nike Airs, and a tarantula pendant that was filled with so many diamonds that it was hard to look at in the right light. At his side was his best friend and watch dog Lakim, watching the crowd forming on the avenue like a hungry dog.
“What up, ma?” King greeted Sahara with a warm bear hug.
“Hey, baby!” she squealed as if she hadn’t been plotting on another man thirty seconds prior.
“What’s going on over there?” King nodded toward the crowd around the Beamer.
“I don’t know, but son is shining real heavy,” Lakim said. “Yo, ain’t that the lil nigga from the third floor?”
King squinted his eyes and spotted little Ashanti in the crowd. “Yeah, that’s Ashanti.”
“Didn’t that nigga get thrown in a boys’ home for them bodies?” Lakim recalled.
King laughed. “You know they ain’t built a kiddy jail that could hold that bad ass lil muthafucka.” When the crowd shifted King caught a glimpse of the medallion the driver was wearing. “Hold the fuck on, I know that ain’t who I think it is coming through my fucking hood unannounced. Come on, son.” King started down the path with Sahara and Lakim on his heels.
“Blood, you should’ve let me push that nigga Swan. We know it was him that leaned Tech so I don’t know why we playing with it,” Brasco grunted from the passenger seat of the Beamer. They had just come back from Jersey and gotten off on the 125th Street exit of the Westside Highway.
“Because one life doesn’t come close to evening the score for my brother’s life. When the wind blows I want the whole house of cards to fall,” Animal told him.
“Them niggaz was straight shook.” Ashanti laughed from the backseat, where he was playing Nefertiti in 2K10.
Animal looked in the rearview mirror at Ashanti who was wearing a mischievous grin. “Is that what you think, that Shai and Swan were afraid of us?”
“Hell yeah, we had the drop on them and they bitches so they was short!” Ashanti boasted.
Animal shook his head at Ashanti’s ignorance. “Lil brother, that wasn’t fear, it was discretion.”
Ashanti frowned as he didn’t understand the word. “You mean he thought we were gonna cut him up?”
“That’s dissection, idiot,” Nefertiti teased.
“I got your idiot right here.” Ashanti flicked the button on the controller and drained a three-pointer in the video game. Animal reached behind him and yanked the plug out of the Xbox. “What you do that for?”
“Because I need you to pay attention to what’s going on and not some fucking video game,” Animal said sternly. “Make no mistake about this, B; you don’t survive as long as Swan has by fearing the next man. True, we would’ve laid them straight to rest if it had popped off at the mall but none of us really wanted it to go down like that. Shai’s got too much going on legitimately to be banging out in public places. If a man like him wants you dead then he sends a hit squad to wipe your family out.”
Ashanti tossed the joystick down on the leather seat. “So if he’s so bad ass, then why would we risk going in there and threatening him like that?”
“I didn’t threaten Shai; I simply told him what my position was on this whole thing. Niggaz tried to slay me and I ain’t about to let it ride. Blood will answer for blood, homey.”
“A’ight, let me see if I follow you. So, we know Swan was the one who laid Tech, but we’re not gonna hit him?” Nefertiti asked.
“Man, I don’t give a shit who we push as long as I get to put the lean on somebody soon,” Brasco said.
Animal smiled. “All the pups will be fed when the time is right. Right now I just wanna kick back and enjoy the city.” Animal’s cell phone vibrated on the console where it rested. He looked down at the name that flashed across the caller ID screen and smiled. “What up, lil mama?” He put the call on speakerphone.
“You nigga! I thought you were gonna call me when you got uptown,” the female on the other end quizzed him. She had a sultry voice with a rough edge that reminded you of a porn star talking shit during a shoot.
“My fault, I’ve been running around taking care of business,” he told her.
“I hear that hot shit, you need to come take care of me before I catch an attitude.”
“Slow down, baby, I got you.”
“I got time for you if he don’t,” Ashanti said.
“Eww, who the fuck is that, one of them clown-ass Big Dawg niggaz?” she capped.
“Bitch, I’m a Big Dawg, but I ain’t no rapper,” Ashanti said slyly.
“That’s five-star bitch to you, lil nigga,” she checked him.
“I ain’t know it was like that, ma.” Ashanti took some of the base out of his voice, recognizing one of his own.
“Well, now you do, shorty. Anyway,”—she rolled her eyes on the other end as if he could see her through the phone—“Animal, what’s good? A bitch needs to get tightened up so you need to come holla at me.”
“I told you that I got you, boo. You gonna have that thing ready for me when I come through?” Animal asked.
“Baby boy, I’ve been playing wit that thing since you called me and I don’t know how much longer I can hold out,” she said seductively.
Animal smiled. “That’s my girl. Check, let me finish up with these niggaz and I’m holla at you on the later side, ya dig?”
“Don’t make it too long, daddy. You be safe out there and I love you,” she said sincerely.
“I love you too, ma,” he told her and ended the call.
“Let me find out,” Brasco said accusingly.
Animal cut his eyes at him. “Let you find out what?”
“That you ain’t as loyal to Gucci as you’ve been claiming to be.”
“Let me tell you something, blood. Two things you ain’t never gotta question are my willingness to push a nigga off this planet if the paper is right and my loyalty to Gucci. Don’t read too deep into what you hear,” Animal told him.
“Well, what I heard sounds like you about to get into some fresh pussy. I’m proud of you, son,” Nefertiti said with a broad grin, but the grin faded when Animal’s cold stare landed on him.
“Y’all muthafuckas got one-track minds. Can’t a nigga be cool with a chick without trying to fuck?” Animal asked.
“No,” the trio answered in unison.
Animal shook his head. “Well y’all need to take your minds off who I am or ain’t fucking and get it on the business. There’s killing to be done.” That silenced everyone.
After another ten minutes of riding in silence Brasco finally spoke up. “So what’s the game plan, homey? We gonna run down on this nigga Rico and eat his food or what?”
“We gonna carve that turkey up real nice, my nigga. I’m gonna stop his money and then his clock. Once we cripple his organization then when the time is right the main course will be served,” Animal assured him.
Brasco nodded in approval. “That works for me. Since you ain’t gonna let us lay hands on that yellow nigga Swan I’m gonna take Rico’s head and mount that shit on my wall. On Blood I need to feast on something, cuz my ribs is touching.”
“Son, Rico got like a thousand soldiers and a million guns; you really think we gonna be able to get at him?” Nefertiti asked.
“It ain’t a question of if we can get at them, but when we gonna split them niggaz wigs. I won’t be denied my vengeance,” Animal said with ice in his voice. “But y’all don’t have to dwell on that right now. I know when I put out the call to arms you’ll answer like you always do. But now ain’t the time for that. I’m home, my nigga, and I wanna feel these streets before they feel me.”
“That’s what I’m talking about. Let’s get to this bottle popping to celebrate your return,” Nefertiti said excitedly.
“Fuck all that, we need to hit the strip club or something,” Brasco suggested.
“The both of y’all are bugging, let’s go to the weed spot and see if we can pick up some hos on the strip,” Ashanti countered.
Ever since Animal had picked them up that morning they had been arguing like siblings over their big brother. Their bickering used to annoy Animal to no end, but that day he welcomed it because it was just one more reminder of how much he missed his beloved Harlem and his little crew. From state to state Animal rolled with made dudes, in and out of the industry, and though they showed him love it was nothing like what he felt when he was with Brasco, Ashanti, and Nef. The young men riding with him were his brothers, and they loved him just as much as he loved them, if not more so.
“Y’all niggaz be easy,” Animal said in his lazy drawl. He removed a blunt from his shirt pocket and lit it, knowing the weed would get them to calm down and listen while he spoke his piece. “I got a run to make right quick, then a studio session with Chip. When I’m done I’ll come scoop y’all and we can do whatever you want.”
“So fuck it, we’ll come to the studio with you,” Ashanti suggested.
“Not tonight, we gotta mix these songs down and if I take y’all with me I won’t end up doing shit but getting too slopped to work. As soon as I’m done we’ll kick it though. I promise.” Animal steered the Beamer up Broadway and made two lefts on 124th. A group of girls who had been coming out of the liquor store watched the sleek automobile in awe, wondering who was inside.
“Yeah, I see you checking me out, ma,” Ashanti called out the window.
“Is that little Ashanti?” one of the girls asked.
“Of course it is. You see how I’m rolling.”
“Whose car y’all done stole?” the other girl asked.
“Stole? Bitch, don’t be trying to play me like I’m some scumbag nigga. I’m rolling with my big brother, Animal!”
“Chill, son,” Animal whispered. He wanted to keep as low a profile as possible so he could move around the city freely.
“That ain’t no Animal,” the first girl disputed. Before Animal could stop him, Ashanti rolled the window all the way down so the girls could see inside. When they spotted the rapper their eyes got wide with shock. “Oh, my God!”
“Fucking Ashanti,” Brasco cursed as they pulled into the bus stop with the girls damn near running to catch up to the car. From the way they were squealing and carrying on it didn’t take long before a small crowd had gathered around the car.
“Ashanti, I could kill you for this shit,” Animal said, cringing as a not-so-attractive girl pressed her face against the driver’s side window.
“You’re a superstar now, son, what did you expect? You might as well get out and greet your adoring public,” Ashanti said proudly.
“Or at least see if some of these hood rats are trying to fuck,” Brasco added before sliding from the car, followed by his crew.
Brasco, Nefertiti, and Ashanti worked crowd control as Animal stood beside the car and signed autographs for the people that had gathered around to praise him. One girl didn’t have any paper so she asked Animal if he could sign her baby’s diaper, but from the way it smelled he had to decline. It was hard to believe that not so long ago people would’ve been running away from him, but now they flocked to him like some teen idol. It wasn’t the first time it had happened to him since the release of the video but he still hadn’t gotten used to it.
“Come on, B, y’all
niggaz know y’all can’t be bringing all this unwanted attention to my hood,” King said as he parted the crowd.
“King, what’s good? I heard you were home.” Ashanti gave him dap.
“Yeah, and I heard your little ass was locked up?”
“Again,” Lakim added.
“Come on, y’all know how I do it. If they wanna keep me caged they’re gonna have to throw me in a super max and put me under twenty-four-hour guard, but even then they probably couldn’t do nothing with me,” Ashanti boasted.
“I hear that hot shit. I’ve been to a few spots that would straighten your little ass right out,” King told Ashanti. He turned his dark eyes to Animal who was busy trying to keep a girl’s hands out of his hair. “What up, you can’t speak?”
Animal looked up and a broad grin immediately crossed his face. “Oh, shit. What up, my nigga.” Animal hugged him. “Damn son, you got big than a muthafucka!”
King flexed. “You know it ain’t but three things you can do when you’re locked down for twenty-three hours a day: read, eat, and lift weights.”
“Looks like you could lift damn near the whole building,” Animal teased him.
Ashanti looked from King to Animal with a confused expression on his face as he had never heard Animal speak of the terror of the General Grant Houses. “How do y’all know each other?”
Animal grinned. “It’s a long story.”
Animal and King had a relationship that went back several years. Back in the days King had been the young protégé of Animal’s older brother Justice, a notorious killer and the right arm of one of Harlem’s most ruthless kingpins K-Dawg. Under K-Dawg the Road Dawgz crew had terrorized Harlem laying low anyone who went against them, including the district attorney assigned to prosecute them. One of K-Dawg’s young boys had blown his head off during a press conference in broad daylight on the courthouse steps. K-Dawg and his crew feared nothing, but their reign eventually came to an end when they orchestrated a mass suicide that took the lives of almost a dozen police officers. The police never did make a positive ID on K-Dawg’s corpse, but they reasoned that it was highly unlikely that even someone who seemed as invincible as he did could’ve survived the explosion.