Page 7 of On Everything
I was more venting out loud than to Princeton because this young nigga couldn’t really do shit for me besides being a good ear. By the time he gets old, he will be a wise little muthafucka from hanging around me.
“I knew you didn’t know Hov. That’s why I came over here as fast as I could. I hopped on like six trains to do so, but you know I got you.”
“I appreciate you. I’m about to take a ride to Castle Hill and get this shit handled right now. Safety lil nigga.”
I went into my pockets and gave Princeton a hundred dollar bill before he took off on his bike.
I jumped in my car and crossed the Kosciusko Bridge and down the Brooklyn expressway.
Within about forty smoove minutes I was on Castle Hill Ave and stepping out in front of the projects.
I ain't gone lie, I'm a street nigga through and through but being over here made me feel gritty as soon as I stepped outside the car. The amount of trash on the ground over here was why my grandma always preached for me to stay out of the Bronx. She even warned me that messing with women over here would end my ass up itching as she would say. But all the women in New York talk about women from other boroughs the same way. Trust, I’ve heard it all with me having a bitch from every corner.
I got out of the car and walked up to the building’s front door, having to step through a gang of bitches just sitting out here doing nothing.
“Hey, Hov.”
The one with bright red hair spoke to me and I chucked my head up, unfamiliar with who the fuck she was. I’ve been known my entire life because of who my father is, yet I never cared to get to know anyone. Growing up, I was always to myself and quiet if I didn’t know you.
I pulled on the door handle to the building, pulling on the raggedy shit for so long and so hard that a screw eventually broke off.
When that happened, the door opened without hassle and I walked inside and up the steps, leaving the door broken and the screws spreading across the floor.
When I approached the elevator, I saw the fucking shit didn’t work, so I walked up three flights of stairs and down to this nigga’s door.
BOOM BOOM BOOM
I banged, feeling that shit rattle under my fist every time my hand connected with the door. When it swung open, Ant was standing there in some tight ass boxers and a balled-up shirt covering his dick.
“What’s, what’s up, Hov?”
He asked, eyes widening because I could tell he was rattled by my presence.
I rarely made house visits these days because I felt my operations were running tightly without the micromanaging shit.
Especially with this nigga. I never had a problem with how he handled shit until today.
He was the only kid I had that didn’t need reprimanding every now and again.
“Go put some clothes on. I’m not having a conversation with you with your dick out.”
“Alright, give me a minute.”
Ant backed up from the door and I walked inside his small ass apartment.
Don’t get me wrong, everybody shit is small in NY.
For what I pay for my penthouse here, I could be living in a mansion in Texas right now but I’m never leaving my city though.
New York needs a nigga like me both for the good and the bad.
“What’s the word Boss? What’s going on?”
Ant came out of the room, stumbling over his pants. He knew I was impatient as a muthafucka. I have a reputation of crashing out when people played with my time.
“One of our distributors got popped last night.”
“Damn, where at?”
“Here, in Castle Hill. Where the fuck you been?”
“Honestly, in the house. I don’t fuck around much outside of these four walls. I just push my product and go. I heard someone got popped here but I didn't know who it was.
“Understood.”
I couldn’t get mad at the nigga for being to himself because I was too. If he was a knucklehead, I would’ve probably knocked his ass out for not getting back to me. I however knew that Ant probably really was in the house and didn’t know a thing about what happened earlier.
“Well, since Diablo got popped, I am going to need you to take on the load of gathering up some new niggas for the Bronx territory that Diablo was running. I’m hearing that niggas are trying to make moves on the territory already and I’m not having that shit.”
“Okay, I got you, Hov.”
He replied before there was a thud in the bedroom. I put my hand on my heat because I wasn’t a nigga that likes surprises.
“Somebody else in here?”
“Yeah, just a little bitch I fucked last night. She on her way out. I told her she needed to roll, but she taking her time.”
When the room door opened, out walked a female, which explained why he was so comfortable staying up in his spot.
Shorty walking out is thick, pretty, and I’m talking about too fine to be with the worker and not the boss.
I watched her as she walked further into the living room, and the way she was looking, I knew she knew me. Most people in New York did.
“Ant, I’m going to leave now.”
“Alright. Careful.”
He kept it short with her and then she walked out of the door. Just seeing that bitch made me confused as to why he called her ‘just a little bitch’ instead of his lady. She definitely would be the star player on my team. Bad wasn't the word.
“Yo, what's her name?”
I asked once the door closed.
“Ciara. She is a bitch from downstairs on the 2 nd floor. Her dude is the nigga who they said killed somebody yesterday.”
“And she fucking you? She a hoe like that?”
“Nah, I guess she just wanted her lick back for her nigga cheating. I never heard of her hoeing around here. Now, her dude Kairo is in another bitch face every time I see him. He fuck with plenty of bitches over here.”
I shook my head.
Whoever this Kairo nigga is I need to murder for two reasons.
One being he took out one of my distributors, and two for playing games with that beautiful ass female who should be on a nigga’s throne.
I swear niggas like him make all the fine bitches become sluts trying to get their get-back on niggas like him.
But where some hoes are too far gone to be saved, some are fine enough to be saved regardless of their past.
Ciara had the type of body and face that needs saving.