“Get dressed and come down, don’t keep me waiting long, my nigga.”
I jumped out of the bed. Star was asleep on her stomach, with that phatty in my view. She was eye candy fo’ sure, but not wifey. I gathered up my clothing and threw on my jeans, T-shirt, and searched for my boots.
I went into her bathroom and washed that smell of pussy off me. Star yawned and looked up at me when I came out.
“You leaving, baby?”
“Yeah, my peoples are waiting for me outside,” I said rushing.
I was about to walk out the door when I heard Star say, “Baby, before you leave, can you leave me a lil’ sump’n?”
“What, you mean some paper?”
She nodded.
I stared at her full thick figure, with her big titties in my view, and thought about getting that number for a second round someday.
“How much you need?” I asked.
“A few hundred, maybe five,” she said.
After I done spent about twelve-hundred on her in the club last night. I went into my pockets and pulled out the dwindling knot of money I still had. I looked at her and tossed a hundred dollar bill at her.
“That’s it?” she replied with attitude.
Gold-digger fo’ sure, I thought. I snickered, collected myself and kept it moving.
Outside, Tyriq was waiting in his Escalade.
“What’s good wit’ you?” I greeted him with a dap.
“That bitch asked you for a tip, right?” He asked.
“Yeah, how you know?”
“Yo, she a thirsty-ass bitch always got her fuckin’ hands out. Shit, as much money my crew done blown on her, I need to drag her ass fuckin’ downstairs and have her work a corner for me,” he laughed.
“Where’s Tip?” I asked.
“Takin’ care of sump’n,” he said driving off. “I know you hungry, nigga?”
“No digga…”
We ate at a nearby IHop, chatting up old times. He updated me on Susan’s pregnancy and their situation.
“Yeah, her pops definitely didn’t like no nigga like me running up in his baby girl. Yo, Vince man, I got that bitch in pocket sump’n serious. She’s made a few runs down south for me in the new Benz her daddy bought.
She was sneaking around, but once that bitch got pregnant, she came clean to her father about me. He deaded that bitch, trust fund gone and everything. Fuck her daddy. I got that bitch still makin’ ends.”
“Damn!” I said.
“But I saw you gettin’ cozy wit’ Asia. You fucked her again?”
I smiled.
“Ayyite, pussy is like a fuckin’ drug to you.”
“Best thing for a nigga to relax wit’,” I joked.
Tyriq laughed. “Nigga, how many bitches you done fucked since we were kids?”
“Enough…”
“That’s why you broke now nigga, always spending fuckin’ papers on bitches. You should be gettin’ that money, ayyite.”
“Yeah, I know. Live and learn, right.”
“I’m learning how to get fucking paid right now, locking shit down out here, ayyite?” Tyriq said.
“I’m wit’ you.”
Tyriq took a few bites out of his pancakes and I dined on waffles and eggs. I wished Spoon was with us, it would’ve been like we were all eighteen again.
It was reaching afternoon when we headed back to Queens. The sun shone brighter as the day wore on. I needed to shower and a nap.
“Yo, Vincent, how’s your son doing?” Tyriq asked driving down the Grand Central.
“He’s good.”
“Ayyite, how old is he now, four?”
“Yeah, he’s my lil’ soldier,” I stated.
“What about Chandra, you still fuckin’ her?” Tyriq smiled.
“Nah, we been done wit.”
“Word…? I remember she used to be at your crib all the time. Damn, I thought y’all was gonna get married and I was gonna be your best man and shit.”
“Shit changed. She’s doing her and I’m doing me.”
“Ayyite, I hear that. But you could be really down, Vince. What you tryin’ to do? You tryin’ to find another nine to five or you want some serious paper in your pockets?”
“I’m trying to survive and I wanna take care of my son,” I said.
“I respect that. But you need to step your game up, ayyite? In this world, you’re either a somebody or a nobody. To put it simply, you either gonna be a hawk, or a fucking duck. A hawk takes what it wants, by swooping down and snatching up its prey quickly and fuckin’ shit up with ‘em claws and those big ass wings. Ducks, they lay around like a prey to everything. You living like a duck, Vince. Falling prey to society, you letting these fuckin’ crackers make decisions for you.”
“I hear you,” I nodded.
“Me Vince, I’m an entrepreneur. I run these streets. Ain’t no cracker telling me how to handle biz, Vince?”
“I’m wit’ you.”
“This game, the hustling it’s my American dream right. I didn’t have to go to no college and take out loans to get what I got. I don’t owe no-fuckin’-body. Muthafuckas out here-they owe me.”
“I’m wit’ you.”
“You my nigga Vince…”
“No doubt…”
“We like fuckin’ brothers. You always had my back and I always have yours. You like the one nigga I trust out here, cuz I don’t trust no-fuckin’body. Shit, my moms and your moms went to church together. Ain’t that some crazy shit?”
“I know,” I replied.
“I hate to see my brother struggling. You’re better off without that job anyway. In Africa, we had mutha fuckin’ dynasties. We were the first peoples to live like kings. The fuckin’ Europeans stripped that away from us. They made us their bitch, had us slaving in their fields. I refuse to be anybody’s bitch,” Tyriq stated.
I nodded.
“I’d rather die on my feet, than…”
“… Live on my knees…” I said finishing the statement. He looked at me, smiling.
“Ayyite my nigga, I follow that rule every fuckin’ day.” We exchange dap and Tyriq continued. “You tired of living on your knees, Vince? I know you want mo’-better.”
I quietly peered out the truck thinking about what Tyriq was saying.
“Why you need me?” I asked.
“I need a nigga to make a few runs out of town for me,” he informed.
We got off the Van Wyck expressway. Tyriq continued to talk, trying to coax me. He reached into his pockets and pulled out a wad of hundreds.
“See this here, Vince,” he said waving the knot, “this is what it’s all about. This is power right here. With money like this niggas and bitches are gonna