Authors: K'wan
Still Hood (2 page)
IT HAD BEEN ABOUT TWENTY MINUTES SINCE
True had finished his performance, but you could still hear people chanting the chorus from “Blood of My Blood.” He had managed to track down a fresh white T-shirt, but with the heat in the club, that one, too, would soon have to be trashed. A swarm of eager young ladies tried to rush him when he got off the stage, but the bouncers managed to keep them at bay long enough for True to make it to the VIP section. Normally True would've welcomed the advances of a dozen pretty young women, but not tonight. He just wanted to sit in peace and reflect on his accomplishments.
True had finished his performance, but you could still hear people chanting the chorus from “Blood of My Blood.” He had managed to track down a fresh white T-shirt, but with the heat in the club, that one, too, would soon have to be trashed. A swarm of eager young ladies tried to rush him when he got off the stage, but the bouncers managed to keep them at bay long enough for True to make it to the VIP section. Normally True would've welcomed the advances of a dozen pretty young women, but not tonight. He just wanted to sit in peace and reflect on his accomplishments.
True had come straight from the gutter and was slowly making his way to the top of the food chain. Born the son of a hustling-ass mother, the streets had been all he knew, until Don B came along. The older head had taken True under his wing and showed him that there were far safer ways to get rich than throwing stones at the penitentiary.
True had been a natural on the mic and it was obvious from the beginning that he had star potential. With three solid MCs and two pretty boys, the quintet was destined for greatness; but one night had changed all that. A petty debt
had shattered their dream and taken a piece of him in the process. His friends were dead and he was left to carry the torch.
had shattered their dream and taken a piece of him in the process. His friends were dead and he was left to carry the torch.
“You did ya thing out there, kid,” Don B said in his gruff voice. True had been so lost in his thoughts that he hadn't heard Don B approach. He was dressed in a black T-shirt and black jeans. Like True, he also wore the signature rottweiler head around his neck, but his was much bigger.
“Yeah,” True said, halfheartedly.
“What da deal, my nigga?” Don B asked, sliding into the booth next to True.
“I'm good,” True lied.
Don B just stared at him. Even through the blacked-out shades he wore, True could feel Don B's disbelieving gaze. “True, I've known you since you was a shorty, so I know when something is up. Talk to me.”
True hesitated for a minute. He thought about insisting that it was nothing, but he knew Don B would see through the lie. “This.” True spread his arms.
“This what?”
True searched for the words. “The crowd, the music ⦠all this shit, man.”
Don B picked up an unopened bottle of champagne from the table and popped the cork. He turned the bottle up and took a deep swig before responding to True's statement. “I don't understand you. You just went on stage and turned this whole mutha fucka out and you're sad? Help me out here.”
True ran his hands over the stubble on his freshly cut head. “I know I should be happy, but it doesn't feel right. Pain and Lex should be here for this.”
Don B let out a sigh. “Here we go with this shit again. True, how long are you gonna beat yourself up about this shit. Them niggaz is dead and gone. I miss them too, but there's only so long you can mourn the dead. You can kick yourself in the ass until it bleeds, but it won't bring them back.”
“I know,” True said sadly. “I'm just trying to make sense of all this shit.”
“I got something for you to make sense of.” Don B slid closer to True and threw a muscular arm around the youngster. “In a few weeks your album is gonna hit the streets and sell like crack. We already got a guaranteed fifty thousand shipped, and that number is gonna double with this tour popping off. You're the man, kid, like it or not. Now, you're gonna get the fuck up and come fuck with some of these fine little bitches that came out to see you, smell me?”
True managed to muster a smile. “Yeah, man.”
“A'ight then, tighten up.” Don B patted him on the shoulder. A small cluster of people had begun to form around the entrance to the VIP, drawing Don B and True's attention. When the bouncers were able to clear a path, Black Ice came sauntering over with two of the baddest bitches either of them had ever seen.
“The great and powerful Don.” Black Ice gave him a half bow, never relinquishing the arms of his women.
“Don of Harlem, kiss the ring,” Don B joked, extending his gaudy pinky ring to Black Ice.
“Nigga, don't play with me. I don't kiss nobody but my mama, and that's only on holidays. Show the proper respect.” Ice shot back. He spread his arms and he and Don B shared a manly embrace.
Though their lives had taken two different paths, Don B and Black Ice had been friends since back in the PAL days. Even then it was apparent that neither of them would grow up to have regular nine-to-fives. While Don B's uncles were teaching him about the drug game, Ice's father was turning him on to the art of macking. Ice was in and out of the game all through his teenage years, but it wasn't until his father was murdered that he jumped in the game headfirst. At twenty-three years of age, Black Ice was a respected and recognized player in every circle.
“I'm glad you was able to make it out, Ice,” Don B said, reclaiming his seat.
“You know I wouldn't miss ya boy's coming out party. What's good, True?” He gave the young MC a dap.
“Trying to win,” True said modestly.
“Looks like you're doing more than trying, baby boy. All these
bitches do is pop their fingers to ya shit.” He nodded at the two girls. “Damn, where are my manners? Fellas, this is Wendy and Lisa.” He motioned to the black, then the white girl. They waved, but neither spoke.
bitches do is pop their fingers to ya shit.” He nodded at the two girls. “Damn, where are my manners? Fellas, this is Wendy and Lisa.” He motioned to the black, then the white girl. They waved, but neither spoke.
“Don't talk much, do they?” Don B mused.
“Not if it ain't about a dollar.” Black Ice said flatly. “Ladies, take young True out there on the dance floor and let me and Don B rap for a taste.”
“Hold on, man,” True tried to protest, but the ladies were already pulling him to his feet. Giggling like two schoolgirls, Lisa and Wendy led True out to the dance floor.
IT TOOK A MINUTE, BUT
after True had a few drinks he managed to loosen up a bit. He had a bottle raised in the air and was sandwiched between Lisa and Wendy, getting his swerve on. Don B and Black Ice watched from the sidelines in amusement.
after True had a few drinks he managed to loosen up a bit. He had a bottle raised in the air and was sandwiched between Lisa and Wendy, getting his swerve on. Don B and Black Ice watched from the sidelines in amusement.
“Look at that nigga trying to step,” Black Ice snickered. “Your boy is cold as hell on that mic, but he ain't much of a dancer.”
“Shit, he ain't gotta be. As long as that nigga move them units like I expect him to, he's gonna be straight,” Don B replied. He had a blunt pinched between his lips and the last few swigs of his bottle dangling in his hand.
“Don, you know a lot of niggaz thought you was gonna fall short when ya boys got killed, but you've turned shit to sugar once again.”
Don B grinned. “You know I'm known to do the impossible, my nigga. I know how to smell a dollar.”
“Indeed you do, playboy. I swear you rap niggaz is shinning like you on the track or something.”
“All it takes is a little dedication and hard work.”
Black Ice looked at Don B as if he had lost his last mind. “Shit, I'm allergic to work, man. The hardest part of my day is counting that trap money every morning.”
Don B laughed. “Yo Ice, I never understood how a bitch could sell her pussy all night then turn around and give you every dime she made.”
“It's a gift, baby.” Black Ice winked, downing the last of his drink. “See, a square nigga is always trying to get into a bitch's drawers, but my interests lie elsewhere. I conquer a woman's mind before I lay cock to her. That's the sweet science of sin. I could give a fuck if you had a gold pussy and platinum tittiesâthat shit don't move me. Like my Pa used to say: “A bitch is only as good as the bread she checks in.” All I'm interested in is that cold cash, daddy.”
“I know that's right.” Don B gave him dap. “Yo, speaking of cash, I got a proposition for you.”
Black Ice gave Don B his full attention at the mention of a dollar. “Talk to me.”
“You know, ya boy Stacks Green is in town shooting his video and promoting his album, right?”
“Yeah, I hear they been throwing money around like its water.” Ice nodded.
“You know, niggaz think they stunt game is up, but this is still the Don's city. We got a few events lined up on some costal-love shit.”
“Costal-love, last time I checked you niggaz was supposed to be rivals? I even heard the mix tape with you and one of his boys going at it.”
Don B shrugged, as if it were nothing. “Just a little friendly competition. Personally I think the kid is an asshole, but you can't deny the fact that both our camps are blowing up on the music scene. Big Dawg got a crazy buzz, but this nigga got Texas in a stranglehold. I'm trying to rock this nigga to sleep so we can see some of that paper down south too. While the nigga is in town we gonna show him a good time on some welcome to New York shit. We're even having a celeb barbecue and basketball game. His five against my five on some winner-take-all shit.”
“Sounds like you got ya hands full, baby boy, but I know you didn't wanna talk to me about no basketball game. Shit, I ain't touched a ball since I took to the track,” Black Ice told him.
“Nah, I ain't talking about you playing, I'm talking about you investing. Son, we got fifty gees riding on this game!”
Black Ice eyed him suspiciously. “So you called me down here to crack for some bread?”
“Black, you know I'd never come at you like no pauper, the Don ain't hardly popped,” Don B said, flashing a large wad of money. “Dawg, I got wild paper tied up in True's album, not to mention the advance I fronted Lex and that stupid mutha fucka Pain, so you understand my situation.”
“How much you trying to get me to throw down, Don?”
“Son, throw in twenty-five and we bust the winnings down the middle. I'm telling you, throw in with me and you're guaranteed to make yaself a nice piece of change.”
Black Ice took his time responding. He did this partially because he was weighing it, but mostly for the theatrics. He wrapped his pack of cigarettes on the bar before coolly sliding one out. With slow and deliberate motions he took a deep pull of the cigarette, before addressing Don B's proposal. “That's a lot of bread on the table, Don. I'd sure as hell hate for them niggaz to be getting their grills upgraded on my dime,” he said seriously.
Don B looked at him like he had just said something foreign. “Man, I got some of the coldest young niggaz from New York playing on my squad, Ice. Ain't no way we can lose!”
Ice thought on it for a second, and then nodded. “A'ight, Don, lets trim these suckers. Twenty-five apiece and we're partners; but you gotta do something else for me to sweeten the pot.”
Don B grinned. Ice had a lot of nerve asking for more than he was already getting, but Don B knew that's what he was used to, so there was no slight. Ice made his money off the backs of other people, so in his mind everyone was a stepping-stone to further his own goals. Don B would've been a fool to think otherwise. Ice was pushing it, but for the sake of winning fifty-gees, and bragging rights over the Houston crew, Don B would at least listen.
“What you need, Daddy?”
Ice spoke to Don B, but kept his eyes focused on the swirling clouds of cigarette smoke. “Me and a friend of mine been throwing these locked door events. We get twenty to thirty of the freakiest bitches we can round up and turn em loose on suckers who don't mind spending for a taste. Every party is thrown at a different location and by invite
only. It'd be nice if you make sure them Texas boys and their money were in the spot Saturday night to spend some of that paper.”
only. It'd be nice if you make sure them Texas boys and their money were in the spot Saturday night to spend some of that paper.”
A broad grin spread across Don B's lips. “Come on man, I thought you needed a favor?” Don B joked. “A'ight, send the time and address to my two-way and I'll make sure I get Stacks and them to the spot. As a matter of fact, come through the block tomorrow. Stacks is shooting his video in Harlem and I'll introduce you to him.” He gave Ice a pound.
“Not a problem. I'll roll through with a couple of my bitches so these niggaz can see what I'm working with. As far as the twenty-five stacks, Wendy will drop the bread off to you Friday.”
“Damn, you don't do nothing for yourself, do you?” Don B teased him.
“Not unless it's wiping my ass.” Feeling a presence at his back, Black Ice spun around on the bar stool. Standing directly in front of him was a five-two, cinnamon thing, with what could only be called childbearing hips.
“What's up, big time?” She took in his red suit and heavy jewels. Shorty knew she had it going on, and was hell-bent on showing the well-dressed cat at the bar.
In his most sincere tone he said, “Cash, bitch. If you bout that then I'm bout you.” The girl looked at Black Ice like she didn't know whether to slap him or continue the conversation. Both Don B and Black Ice fell over the bar laughing.
IT WAS ABOUT FOUR-THIRTY IN
the morning when the last few partygoers came staggering out of the club. Traffic was so thick that the cars couldn't get through the block doing more than five miles an hour. Men and women paired or tripled off in search of whatever other mischief they could get themselves into. True's listening party had set the summer off properly.
the morning when the last few partygoers came staggering out of the club. Traffic was so thick that the cars couldn't get through the block doing more than five miles an hour. Men and women paired or tripled off in search of whatever other mischief they could get themselves into. True's listening party had set the summer off properly.
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