in this game, you keep putting moving words in my ear and you always got time to check out my stories. That’s why you’re one of a few that will always get first shot at my books. I’m gonna stay showin’ you love.
And I gotta show love to Tasha Herman, Linda Williams, Norma, Anna J and Azarel, the lovely ladies that are doing so many wonderful things, who keep enriching the lives of so many with their talents and trades.
Also to my cousin Petey, representing the south, keep doin’ your thang down there cuz. You came a long way, and believe me, your story is comin’ soon.
To my dude Kay, and his brother Jock, y’all keep your head up, and the two of you will never be forgetting. When y’all get home, we gonna do it up, believe me, good things are definitely coming y’all way. Much love to y’all.
And to my boo, Sequoia Hughes, you know I couldn’t forget you. You are a beautiful and charismatic woman. I’m glad to have you in my life. You know I miss you, and believe me, things will fall into place for you really soon.
And the most important of all, my friends, my readers, and my fans who continue to support me and have supported me throughout the years, and a shout out to Tweety and Rah, for always showing me support and putting me in her collection. And to my dude, Hasheem, keep doing your thang.
But to everyone else, life is too short to wake up in the morning with regrets. Love the people who treat you right, forget about the ones who don’t. And believe that everything happens for a reason. If you get a chance, take it, if it changes your life, let it.
Nobody said it would be easy, they just promised that it would be worth it.
Get at me via Myspace.com/ericksgray or email me at [email protected] 3
Special thanks to Augustus Publishing Manuscript Team, Tamiko Maldonado, Jason Claiborne and Ant Whyte-- The Dream Team
Go hard or go home...
Dedications
Sean Bell-1983-2006 Vincent E. Gray-1964-2007 Pashad Adache Gray-1991-2006 John Henry Grimes-1938-2007 Carl Willis Johnson-1945-2007 Kenneth Eric (Malachi) Daley-1957-2006 Alice Mae Cloud Smith-1926-2007 Gevondis Anne Whittingtondo-Gray-1956-2007 Hannah Latta Gray-1931-2007
Gone... but never forgotten…
Today I live, even though I found out that I will soon die, diagnosed with a touch of negativity in my system—soon my life flashes before my eyes. I wanna grip the stale air I inhale, exhale creativity and belief, pour out prosperity and richness through my daily deeds. Today I breathe, even though life is putting me in a choke hold, trying to detain my existence, execute my death mentally and physically, causing my mind to seize and doubt any good will come. My world shakes like an earthquake. My spirit darkened, like a moonless night over the sea—living with so much hardship, spreading like the vast deep-sea. I wanna breathe again. I wanna fly but feel rooted to the truth of reality. I wanna soar, see my dreams beneath me and dive into them with full force. Saturate the pessimistic thought with inspiration and dedication, overcome destitution with optimism. The spirit and faith that will surge throughout every negative and damaging point. Make all of me healthy and strong. Please make me loving and more understanding God. I wanna overwhelm myself with the thought of success and triumph over the adversity that forever would love to see me on bending knees, have me hateful to my own needs. I refuse to relinquish the thought of determination and might. Taking it one day at a time, being the best man I can.
Today, I want my intelligence to brighten and enlighten others, dispense knowledge to my brothers. I need for my people to understand, that what we truly own, is what we know, having an education is endless—a strong thought can’t never be corrupt. A loving heart will never be distraught. And the mind is power and gold. I wanna drench my mind with limitless information, and then burst into my community with a rainfall of information. I wanna starve doubt, hate, jealousy and greed, plagues of this generation. Nourishing certainty, self-worth and self-confidence, spread education about our people’s culture like everyday is Black History month. I want us to believe that we are truly rich in life and that all you need is the will, the spirit and the knowledge to thoroughly strive in life. I want us to grow, soar into unity—and be on one accord, fighting lies that’s been told to our people, the things that separate us and contest the world that tries to lesser our race.
Today, I wanna reverse the Willie Lynch theory and unite the old with the young—bring together the old black pro for the young black male and the young black male pro for the old black male. We must benefit from the dark skin man, with the light skin man, and the light skin man with the dark skin man, understand that it is not the color or shade, but that we are still one man under God. We should trust and depend on the character of that man. And when we all are under that one accord of having attained the spirit, the determination, the integrity, the knowledge, understanding our history of where we been and where we want to go, and then wanting better for not only our race, but as humanity all together—it is then, that we are truly free.
Every man has by law of nature a right to such a waste portion of the earth as is necessary for his subsistence.
Sir Thomas Moore, Utopia II
Preface
There are two types of hustlers in the game—hustler number one is trying to survive to stay alive. Hustler number two grinds for the greed and thrill of the game.
The hustler that slings his drugs to survive has to feed and support his family. Maybe take care of home and pay his way through school. He doesn’t have anyone else looking out for him.
This hustler never plans on being in the game for long. He makes that dirty paper, clean it up and keep it moving. For he knows the game ain’t forever, so he invests his ends. Then he backs out, holding gwap never to return.
There’s another dude hustling because he has a lust for power. An intense desire and craving burns his soul. Greed is his only motivation—the dollar is almighty to him and for power he hunger, the acquisition of which brings him closer to God.
When the soul is corrupt with lust for anything, there’s a yearning—it changes you. You will kill to get yours. Hustler number two is in the new Benz, the latest Lambo, he’s copping that new CL 600, rolling on dishes in Escalade. His soul burns for the possession of material things and the riches, the bling-bling. These things make him feel accomplished, influential over others.
The hustler with the lust for possession and power will kill, maim, destroying whatever’s necessary to maintain greed. He will use intimidation and fear to have influence over the weak, the timid and the community. His only goal is to get money by any means.
A frail line exists between each level. If hustler number one is not careful and doesn’t set a goal or have some moral respect for self, he will undoubtedly convert into hustler number two.
I was that nigga doing it to survive when I first started. Then I became hooked and suddenly I was in it for the thrill and self-indulgence. In a hustler’s minute, I became trapped by my cravings. Slowly but surely I was killing myself and my community. The day I started in the game was the beginning of the end for me.
Prologue
1995… Jamaica, Queens.
7:00 am on the dot Vincent’s alarm went off causing him to rouse and interrupt the wonderful dream he was having of Janet. Ms. Jackson, if you nasty. They were both naked on a sunny warm beach somewhere in the Caribbean. He was dreaming that he was about to