Page 38

juice

. . .

After going back and forth with the label about my sound they’d finally stopped giving me shit about my name being mentioned in some unfavorable moments.

All that mainstream bullshit they kept trying to get me to record wasn’t working for me.

Now that they’d given me the okay to do me, I was on the grind.

With the way life had been going lately I knew the best way to express myself was through my raps. My goal for Scale Dreams was to turn my pain into a platinum album. I had some of the best producers in the game working with me on it. Something in me was telling me this was the one.

Being a successful artist was a dream of mine.

I enjoyed touring and performing for sold out arenas.

But above all of that, what I enjoyed the most was sitting in front of that mic and pouring my heart and soul out.

Where words failed me, I knew my music expressed everything that I was trying to say.

Taking a long pull of the blunt I blew it out through my nose and bobbed my head up and down to the beat.

The song I was recording was titled “Wasn’t Supposed to Win” .

And that resonated so much with me because being a nigga coming from where I came from—winning in life was the furthest thing from reality.

I came from the streets, sold drugs just to afford my studio time.

Niggas used to look at me and swear I wouldn’t make it out.

When I did, them same niggas was green with envy.

Whole time them muthafuckas had the same opportunity that I had they just chose to fuck theirs off.

I couldn’t, my heart wouldn’t allow me to give up on myself.

Which is the reason I hustled the way I did. I wanted out and more importantly I wanted to prove to myself that I could do everything that I set my mind on.

“You got that?” My producer Delaun asked.

“Yeah. Run it back from the top and I’mma hop in once I catch the beat.”

Closing my eyes I waited for the beat to drop. When it was time for me to do my thing, I started flowing off the top of my head.

Came up where the fiends hit the pipe in the rain.

Stove top dreams, cookin’ hope out the pain.

Had to dodge Feds, seen bros do a bid. Now it’s tour life, private jets with the kid.

Wasn't no love, just the .40 and the scale. Now I’m chart-toppin’, still got packs in the mail.

Talk pain, I lived that, cold nights, no meal.

Turned my losses to lessons, now my name worth a deal.

Made it out the mud, now the sky ain't the limit. Used to pray for a break, now my name in the Senate. From the trap to the stage, yeah, I stayed on my grind. Now it’s Rollies and Wraiths, leave the pain in the rearview behind.

I was in my zone when the music was cut abruptly. When I opened my eyes, I peeped Tito standing behind my engineer waving my phone in the air.

“On God that better be an emergency.” I fussed. Muthafuckas knew I hated to be bothered when I was in the studio. Especially when I was working on an album.

“It’s Lox.”

“Fuck. Aight I’m coming out.” Sliding off the headphones I sat them on the table and exited the booth. When I made it out to the front Tito was handing me the phone and walking out of the door.

“What’s good?”

“Nari just got arrested.”

“I’m on the way.” I chuckled cause it was no way this muthafucka had done got locked up. Not with the way she stayed preaching to my ass. Jogging out of the studio I caught up with Tito and asked. “Fuck is really going on?”

“Yo guess is just as good as mine. Her and her girls was supposed to be at Opium tonight. I had got her a section.”

“Bruh.” I groaned. When I scooped Juju from her earlier, she ain’t mention nothing about going to the club. I’m just glad she was smart enough to take Lox with her. Dropping my head I shook it. “Ain’t no telling what the fuck Nariah ass did to get fucking arrested.”

“Out of all people.” He laughed.

“Right. Out of all fucking people.” I repeated.

Instead of taking my car we hopped in Tito’s truck and headed to Rice Street to go see what the fuck had went down. On the drive over Tito called our lawyer Mike and told him to meet us at the station.

Since Punta Cana, Nari and I had been keeping it strictly about Juju. It was the best thing for us since our shit was so fucking tumultuous. Me and Nariah had a bond like no other so either we was fighting, or we was fucking and since we couldn’t keep shit casual fucking was off the table.

I slipped up that night and even if I ain’t regret the shit I knew she did. It was in the way she moved the next day. I could tell she ain’t want me in her space, so I left her alone. Outside of a few casual conversations she ain’t have no rap for my ass.

I ain’t too much mind because it was time for me to lock into my music and I couldn’t do that if my mind was on trying to get her back and shit. I loved her enough to let her go and if we were really meant to be together, I had a feeling Big Sandals was gone make it happen for ya boy.

When we pulled up to the jail house Mike was standing out front with his briefcase in one hand and a stack of papers in the other.

“That nigga stay in business mode.” Tito noted.

“Shit hopefully he can get this girl out without her having to wait until Monday morning.”

Exiting the truck, I met Mike at the front. “Thank you for showing up bruh.”

“You know it’s no issue Julius.”

Stuffing my hand in the pocket of my sweats I nodded toward the entrance. “What we looking at?”

“Disorderly conduct and simple assault.”

“Who the fuck she done got into it with?”

Placing his suitcase down on the ground he shuffled through the papers. “Tamia Culpepper.”

“Oh yeah I’m cooked.” I scoffed. Even though tonight ain’t have shit to do with me directly I knew for a fact that Nariah was about to blame all of this shit on me. Nari wasn’t the type of person to start no shit. It didn’t matter how she felt about a bitch, it wasn’t in her to run up on nobody.

This shit had Tamia written all over it.

Bitch had hit me up talking shit after the pics from Juju birthday went viral.

Ain’t no telling what her ass said to Nariah to get her ass beat.

And I bet everything in my account that Tamia got her ass drug.

Nari had hands for fucking days. I knew from experience. “Can we get her out?”

“That’s another thing.” Mike scratched his eyebrow. “It was more of a club brawl.”

“A brawl!” I groused. “Who else got knocked?”

“Lariah, Shunta, Bennie, Fondala, and like three or four girls with Tamia.”

Bennie was Nariah’s personal photographer, and Fondala was one of the chicks who did her makeup. So, for them to be right along with her yeah...I knew what it was.

“They just in that bitch full out fucking fighting.” Tito joked.

“Seems to be that way.”

“Aight. See what you can do to get Nariah and anybody with her out.”

“I’ll let you know.”

“Bet.”

When Mike walked back inside of the precinct Tito ass started with the bullshit. “You know Nariah ‘bout to beat yo ass.”

“Man.” I drawled. “I’m already fucking knowing. My ass ‘bout to be all kind of fuck niggas and shit. Mind you we been keeping it cordial and shit.”

“That peace done ended now.” The nigga tsked before walking off.

Trailing behind him I scrolled through social media trying to see if the shit had hit the net yet and thank God it hadn’t. Hopefully Mike could do damage control before it did.

____

I was kicked back in the truck with my eyes closed when Tito tapped me on the chest. When I opened my eyes and spotted a barefoot Nariah and her crew walking out of the door my heart slowed.

Shit as long as it took for them to be released, I could’ve sworn they wasn’t getting out. Before they could even cross the parking lot, I was out of the truck heading in their direction. The way they was laughing and talking shit I could tell they was bragging about the fight.

“Lariah, I thought you was better than that.” I joked.

“She wanted a problem and got her friends ass kicked in the process.” She shrugged.

I threw my hand up at the rest of the convicts and waited for them to walk by so I could talk to Nari alone.

“What you out here showing yo ass for Nari?” I asked and pulled her into my chest. Wrapping my arms around her waist I hugged her tightly.

“You should’ve put a muzzle on yo bitch.” She said into my chest before pulling back.

“What happened?” I asked after I let her go.

“She call herself tryna press me ‘bout you. Talking ‘bout how y’all still fucking off and shit. I tried to tell the dummy I ain’t care, but she wouldn’t drop it. Her stupid ass fucked around and got dropped. Talking ‘bout you need that. ”

“She said that?” I queried because that didn’t sound like Tamia at all.

“Hell yeah. I told that hoe I wanted that.”

“When yo court date?”

“Who knows. Mike said he would let me know.”

“Cool. Cool.” I stroked my chin. “You aight though? Got anything to get off yo chest?”

“We good Julius.” She laughed. “I’m not mad at you if that’s what you’re wondering.”

“You sure?” I asked and narrowed my eyes. Nariah would say one thing then the next thing I know she would be on the phone cursing my ass out.

“I promise.” She giggled. “I’m grown enough to know how to hold my composure. I owed her that ass whooping for playing in my face.”

“I’m the one that owed you loyalty, but I get what you’re saying.”

“Right.” She sighed.

“Can we go? I need to wash my ass.”

“Yeah girl we can slide.” I chuckled. “You going by my crib or I need to take you home?”

“I’m going home nigga. You ain’t that fucking slick.” She tittered before walking off.