Conrad a.k.a. racks
‘Wicked or weakness?
You gotta see this.
Waaaaay (yeah, yeah)
‘Ayy I remember syrup sandwiches and crime allowances.
Finesse a nigga with some counterfeits,
But now I’m countin’ this
Parmesan where my accountant lives in fact,
In downin’ this D’usse’ with my boo bae tastes like Kool-Aid for the analysts
Girl, I can buy yo ass the world with my paystub
Ooh, that pussy good, won’t you sit it on my taste buds.
I get way too petty once you let me do the extras.
Pull up on your block, then break it down we playin’ Tetris.
‘Bitch, be humble, sit down
Hol’ up lil bitch, Hol’ up, lil bitch, be humble
Sit down, sit down, hol’ up, lil’ bitch, Be humble,’
I rapped as I jogged. My fucking mood all damn year. I ain’t never been one for the fuck shit.
“Incoming call.” “Incoming call.”
“Switch,” I panted out, causing my music to stop.
“Speak,” I panted out.
“You speak, muthafucka, I ain’t no damn dog. Fuck wrong witchu ass?” Banks voice boomed in my ear.
“Yo ass don’t get tired of whining? What the fuck yo ass want?” I spat.
“Where you at?” he question.
“What you want?” I reiterated.
“Damn, yo ass fucking difficult. I need yo ass to take a ride wit me. My shit back. I gotta pick it up,” he answered.
“From where?”
“High Lines,” he snapped.
“Calm yo ass down. Give me an hour. I gotta shower and shit. Lazy ass fucking wit my run,” I spat.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah, only yo light bright, white ass, runs outside. I’m on Groove. Hurry the fuck up,” he taunted, hanging up.
Fuck him, what I do can’t be done in a damn gym. I be on my recon shit. We take over some shit, it’s cause of me. I know the ins and outs of these dumb ass niggas operations. I’m forever underestimated. I don’t mind tho. They lack security is perfect for me. It’s a skill I’ve perfected over the years.
‘Survival of the fittest’ is four words most just recite to sound hard. I’ve lived that bitch fo’ the last fifteen years. I trained myself to do a lot, everything but steal. Jogging back to my ride, I eyed a few stranglers. No one will approach me. My tatts makes most nervous, my low cut fade makes me seem approachable. I’m the definition of catch twenty-two.
“Aye, white boy. Wha’chu doing in these parts?” A deep, country ass voice, called out, just as I reached my beat up Mustang. The body is fucked up, but the engine is a beast. A beast hidden in plain sight. Just how I fucking like it.
I continued walking. Ignorance don’t get my damn attention.
“Aye, bitch ass, cracker. The fuck yo ass doing round these parts?” He barked, louder, walking towards me.
But disrespectful, derogatory ignorance, does. Turning to face him.
“Minding my muthafuckin’ business. I didn’t see the, ‘No Whites Allowed’ sign,” I barked, with bass in my chest.
My words and tone caused his steps to halt. His facial expression changed from dumb as fuck, to ignorant as hell. A lopsided smirk appeared on his ashy lips.
“Oh, you one of them one’s that think they black? Well, homeboy, yo ass ain’t allowed in this bitch. Step in here again, I can promise yo ass won’t leave…. Alive,” he threatened, hitting his hand wit the pipe he’s holding.
“Fuck off,” was all I said.
I don’t argue with ignorance. He made a movement towards me.
“Unless yo ass want that concrete slab to read… ‘Here lies an ignorant, stupid muthafucka.’ I suggest you go bout yo business,” I warned, glaring at his ass.
I know my eyes changed colors. They do that when I’m bout to kill. He saw them, his ass retreated faster than he appeared.
Shaking my head, I climbed in my car. Racism goes both ways, whether people realize the shit or not. My ass has been blamed for shit old ass white men did. My ass ain’t never own no damn salves. But the color of my skin, some automatically feel I should be blamed and hated for it. I don’t care bout color. Never have, never will. My baby roared to life. Spinning out the lot making sure to kick up as much gravel as I can.
I got bout a thirty minute ride to my place. Well, one of’em.
Ain’t nothin’ but ah gangsta party. Ain’t nothin’ but ah gangsta party
Boomed through the speakers. Bopping my head while lighting my blunt. I gots to be mellowed the fuck out to deal wit the shit Banks ass bout to be on today.
An Hour Later…….
BONKKK!! BONKKK!!
“He better hurry the fuck up, fa’ I leave his ass,” I grumbled, while parked in front of Banks’ townhouse.
“Damn! The fuck yo ass blowing fa’? You the one that’s late,” he complained, climbing in my truck.
“I ain’t late. I’m on time. Whenever I arrive, I’m on time. Remember that shit,” I spat.
“What the fuck ever. The hell yah ass smoking on?”
“Jed Bush,” I answered.
“Jed Bush? What kinds redneck trees yah ass smoking?” He questioned.
Not answering, I passed him his own blunt. No puff, puff, pass, we smoke too damn much to share.
“Yous ah non communicating ass negro,” he mumbled, taking the blunt and one of my many lighters.
To all the ladies in the place with style and grace allow me to lace these lyrical douches in the bushes. Du drop moves with all the groves with all the mommys, back if the club sippin’ Monet’ is were ya find me. In the back of the club mackin’ hoes, my crews behind me. Mad question asking, blunt passin’, music blastin. But I just can’t quit cuz one of tha honeys Biggie got to creep wit. Sleep wit keep the f secret why not? Blow up my spot cuz we both got hot
Bopping my head while tokin’ on my own blunt.
“(Cough) (cough) niggah, (cough) this that, (cough) shit, damn nig,” he choked out.
“Yah ass sounding like you got virgin lungs,” I taunted.
“Fuck you,” he choked out, causing me to laugh.
“Damn, these bitches nice. The fuck yo ass got?” I whistled out, pulling up to the ‘High Line’ dealership.
“Ah champagne colored Bentley Bentayga, limited edition, fully equipped, bullet proof. This the only dealership that could get the bitch,” he answered.
“Tight. I gotta check’em out. Who own this?” I asked, outing my blunt.
He followed suit.
“The fuck if I know. I did my shit on the internet. Tried to look into it. The owner is listed as some P&P,” he answered.
P&P? I question. That shit sounds like a damn alias.
“Let’s go,” he announced, climbing out my truck.
Following his lead, I stepped out, straightening my clothes.
“This bitch clean. No damn fingerprints on the glass or nothin’. Wonder what kind of security system they got?” I spoke absently, looking around.
“Some shit that’ll fry yo balls,” he called out, causing me to chuckle.
Walking further into the space. It’s beyond clean. The rides are nice as fuck. Whoever owns this bitch spared no expense, I know that damn much. Looking round just to know what’s going on in my surroundings. Heels clicking the Italian marble floors caught my attention.
“Hello, I’m Bethany. Welcome to ‘High Line.’ How can I assist you today?”
Turning towards the voice, my eyes stretched, well, not really. I’m too damn high for them to grow beyond the damn squint I’m rocking.
“Bethany? You sure?” Banks questioned, squinting at her too.
His eyes almost closed he’s so high.
“Yes, I’m sure. How can I assist you?” She reiterated.
She didn’t flinch at his question. She must be use to that type of reaction.
“My car. Pick up for Mr. Townsland,” he fin
ally answered, after staring at her for a few beats.
She looked down at the iPad she’s carrying typing. After a few beats she looked up,
“Um T. o. w. n. s. l. a. n. d.?” she spelled.
“Un huh,” was all he said.
She went back to her iPad.
“Um, can you give me one minute? There’s a notation here that I’m unfamiliar with. Please excuse me. You can have a seat in the waiting area, or just stand here. This won’t take long,” she informed us, nicely, before walking off.
“You know her parents named her that bullshit so she could get into college and get a good job. She done fucked up many of interviewer’s heads. They just knew a blonde haired, blue eyed, waif thin, peppy as hell candidate was coming through the door. But got a Keisha, wit a ghetto booty, thick thighs, and a bad ass hair weave,” Banks observed, while eyeing her as she walked off.
Chuckling a little.
“I’m inclined to believe and agree wit yo ass. Outside that damn suit is a bad ass female. You see that ass?” I added.
“Fuck yeah. She get my shit right, I may bless her wit the diack. Shit, I may bring my bitch back just to use her employee discount,” he chuckled, grabbing his self.
“You wild, boy,” I boasted.
Hearing heels approach we both looked in the direction from which the sound is coming from. Baby girl had her head dead studying the tablet. I know who she is though. Fake ass, thighs, titties, well maybe, I haven’t been able to do a full assessment. Either way, she’s fucking bad.
They stopped before Banks.
“Mr. Townsland, I apologize for the inconvenience. I just need for you to step to my office. There’s a discrepancy on your paperwork. I really just need your I.D., being that you ordered online, something wasn’t put in correctly,” she explained, sounding professional and sultry at the same damn time.
“What problem?” Banks asked, loudly.
“Please, not out here,” she stated.
“Aiight, you on yo professional shit. Ain’t yo name Kimmy? You got ah legit job. Well, I be damn. Who the fuck would’ve thought?” He spoke, following her.
She stopped in her tracks, spinning on his ass.
“Yes, it is, and yes, I do. What does that supposed to mean? Do you have a legit job?” She snapped, questioning his ass.
“It mean what the hell I said, stop tryin’ to act surprised. Racks, bring yo ass,” he called out loudly.
Chuckling while shaking my head as I eased closer down the hall.
“He isn’t needed,” she stated, easily, before turning back towards her office door.
“Shit, I know that. As much as I paid for my bitch, I can have Oprah wit my ass. Don’t worry, he won’t hit on yo ass again. He taking Ms. Bethany out,” he spat.
She tensed at his words, while Bethany smiled.
Kimmy didn’t speak again. She just turned and pushed her office door open. Stepping inside, just that quick, I know everything I need to know about her ass, just by taking her office in.
“Damn, what you thinking, Racks? I know you got ah feeling. I got one,” Banks whistled out.
“Nothing, man, I ain’t got nothing. Just handle yo business,” I brushed him off.
He just chuckled, turning back to face the two ladies. Who both were staring at me.
“Okay, Mr. Townsland, your identification,” Kimmy instructed, still watching me.
His ass dramatized pulling his wallet out then his I.D. handing it to her.
“Thank you,” she replied, looking at it.
“I think you got her ass shook. She wants to know, what I know, you know,” he mumbled.
“Shut up, instigating ass,” I grumbled.
“Ahem,” she cleared her throat.
“Whaddup?” He answered, throwing a head nod.
“I see the problem,” she started.
“Yo dumb ass can’t spell,” I blurted out, interrupting.
“Shut up,” he barked, while Bethany giggled.
Kimmy cut her eyes at her, causing her to cut her giggle short.
“Well, he’s right. You misspelled your address and your name. That’s why the system flagged it. They have to match to the map that’s used, or it will look fraudulent, which will result in the system kicking it out,” she explained, making the corrections.
“Bethany, don’t think I’m a dumb nigga. I can spell, I just got confused. Missed a letter or two, maybe three. Anyway. What you say to going out with me? I can spell dinner and a movie,” he proposed.
“I thought she was going out with Racks?” Kimmy blurted out, before she could stop herself.
She regretted it. Her face was bright red.
“Nawl, Ms. Bethany got a thang for tall, dark, handsome, and spelling challenged. Ain’t that right?” He flirted, dancing a little.
She just nodded, while giggling nervously.
“Bethany, you can go back out front. You have done your job. Thank you,” Kimmy let her know.
“Yes, ma’am,” Bethany whispered.
Banks and I eyed her ass. She’s trying to hide it, but jealousy, mixed with attitude, is outlined on her pretty face. I wasn’t gonna point it out, that doesn’t mean it won’t be pointed out.
“Damn, you wrong as hell. Yo ass want his damn attention. Damn shame. Aye, Bethany, I’ll be out in two shakes of my dick. Stay at the front. I ain’t walking round this big bitch. My ass tired. Aye, Kimmy, have them to pull my bitch to the front. I don’t give a damn what protocol is. This shit too damn big to be walking to the back. Y’all got a golf cart?” He said, at once.
Shaking my head, this fool won’t act right to save his life.
She glared at him with a look that’s anything but professional.
“Mr. Townsland, your paperwork is correct. The retrieval department will bring your vehicle around to the side door. When you step back out into the hall, walk back to the main lobby, turn to your left. That door will lead you to the pickup ramp. Thank you for your business. If you need any help with anything else, just call,” she instructed, standing from her desk, while staring at him.
“No doubt, but Bethany could have told me that. I gots some shit to finalize. Racks, bring yo ass. She’s too good fa’ yah,” he let her know, walking out the door.
Shaking my head once again, I followed his lead.
“Um, Racks, can you give me a minute?” She asked.
Halting my steps, turning to face her. Looking down into her face, I could see her nervousness, although she’s trying to hide it. I ain’t saying shit. I let the door close.
“I just wanted to let you know that when I turned you down, it had nothing to do with the color of your skin. When I said you wasn’t my type, I meant, I don’t go for the whole bad boy, hustler, type. Understand?” She stated.
Rubbing my hand on my chin, she just said that shit like I’m slaw or something. I moved from the door. My movement caused her to step back.
“I understand. You don’t think my money is long enough to finance you,” I stated.
Her eyes widened as her stance changed.
“I don’t need nobody to finance me. Can’t you see that I work? So, what the fuck are you talking about?” She snapped.
I didn’t flinch. I knew she would jump on the defensive.
“Oh, I know you don’t need nobody to finance you. That’s why you got the job, right? So, you can throw that signature line up. You know, the one you just recited. But, sweetheart, everything about yo ass says otherwise. Your office furniture is expensive. The owner of this dealership didn’t splurge for that. You have a top of the line Mac computer that cost six grand easily. The latest iPad and iPhone. Every piece of clothes that’s gracing yo body is name brand. Yo jewelry is expensive. Somebody is taking care of yo ass, and it ain’t you,” I read her.
She opened her mouth, then closed it. I stumped her. She ain’t used to being read. So she don’t know how to take it. I’mma school her though.
“It’s aiight, sweetheart. You judged me based
on my cover. I get it. I wouldn’t deal with yo money hungry ass anyway. Yo ass deal wit a man on what he got, and how free he is wit it. A doctor, lawyer, business owner, who’s dumb enough to buy yo pretty ass, is who you deal wit. Shit, you ain’t good enough fa’ me. You be good tho,” I let her down easily, making my way back to the door.
Opening her door, I paused.
“Yo ass gonna wanna taste this white chocolate. I’m telling yah ass now, my shit ain’t fa’ sale. What it’s worth, I know yo ass ain’t real enough to afford it. I’mma enjoy watching yah ass try tho.”
Leaving my parting words to settle in her brain, I left her office completely. I’ve been reading people before I could read a book. I got her ass pegged dead to right. After I fuck her mindset up, I might claim her. But first, I gotta break her.
Making my way to the lobby. Shaking my head at the sight before me. Banks ass damn near got Bethany bent over her damn desk.
“Aye, you good?” I asked, making it to them.
There are some people milling around. I don’t think they get heavy foot traffic like that. This seems like one of them places rich fuckers orders from the net, and have they shit delivered. They may come in to get they shit serviced. I noticed there’s a huge service parts department in the back.
“Yeah, man, just finalizing some things. You good?” He asked, leaning up off Bethany.
Po’ girl looks like she’s about to self-combust. Raising my eyebrow, he hit me with a cocky smirk, like he knows what I’m thinking.
“Fucking peachy, I’m bout to go. Hit me later,” I answered, walking towards the door.
“Hol’ up, Racks. Beth, I got cha, beautiful. Don’t get no damn amnesia. My crazy you don’t want to see. Feel me?” He warned.
“I feel you. Bye, Banks. Behave,” she spoke softly.
Lawd, he gonna corrupt that damn woman, I thought, walking out the door.
“You ain’t let that stuck up brawd get yo ass, is it? I know you read her. I read her ass too. So, you good?” He asked again.
King of the Hood Page 8