Remember all that money that I said my pops used to give me as a kid, telling me to keep it, and save it? I had been doing that for years, so I was able to get me a small crew together, that consisted of my best friends Kendrick, Montrell, but we called him Mook, and Braylon, who went by Bray. I gathered my niggas up, told them the money that I had, and how I wanted to use it to get some bricks fronted to us, add more niggas to the crew, so that we could push this shit out on the street, and I was trying to be the biggest motha fuckin dope dealer that Miami has ever seen.
That was seven years ago. Seven summers. Seven winters. Seven seasons of straight applying pressure. I went out, and I got this shit on my own. My pops didn’t back me when it came to this dope boy shit because he didn’t want me doing it. A nigga couldn’t fix their lips and tell me that the dope game came easy to me because my pops used to be a dope boy, and he helped me out because that was the furthest thing from the truth. In fact, from age eighteen till about twenty, I wasn’t fuckin with my pops because I felt like that nigga was trying to backdoor me. Because of the time that he put in the streets, he was able to make those kinds of calls behind my back, telling other connects in Miami that he knew I would go through, letting them know not to front me shit, or answer me when I came knocking.
I felt like that was some green ass shit to do. He was fuckin up my hustle. I could have easily gone through Loco, especially since my big cousin used to be in the streets too. I just never asked because I didn’t want it to look like I was begging, and I felt like he might have been on the same fucked up timing that my pops was on. Once a man retired from the drug game, it’s as if they endured so much while they were in it, that they wanted to stray anyone coming after them away from it.
This shit that I was out here running, I really put bricks into the way that I built it. A whole bunch of fuckin dollars went intothis shit. I’ll be honest, I was able to get bricks fronted to me off the same bankrolls that my pops put in my hand as a jit, telling me to “save it, and keep it”, but even if that money was never fronted to me, I was a hustling ass nigga that would have still made a way.
I wasn’t even thirty years old yet, and I was doing shit at my age that the legends before me had done when they were much older than me. I had way more capital than they did when they were just twenty- five. I had to go through all kinds of loopholes to snag me a plug, but once I did, we were locked in, and we have been doing good business together over the years.
The name Dolo was respected in the streets, and even after I’m dead and gone, that name was going to continue to be respected.
“Who got a party tonight that you going to?” Loco asked me, crossing his arms, looking at me.
Loco was a big, buff ass nigga, who looked like he did plenty of years in the pen, and during his time, the only thing that he did was lift weights, and get bulk.
“It’s some laid back shit. Mook got a home girl named Elani. She been in the studio for a little minute, putting out shit, so tonight, she put together a little listening party. Ima slide for a little bit, see what they talking about. I been locked in for a while, so I can’t tell you the last time that I had a little time in my schedule, where I could step foot inside a party,” I let him know, and he nodded his head at that.
“How business going for you? What’s that looking like?” I wasn’t surprised that Loco asked me this.
I felt like once you were a dope boy, you would always be a dope boy at heart, so just about every time that I was around him, he was questioning me, wanting to know how business was going. I don’t think Loco missed the streets because he had his own family and shit now, and he was moving legit, but I trulybelieved that it was once a big part of him that he lived for so long, that he couldn’t help but wonder how business was going for me.
“Shit, business is going good. You know me. Me, and my guys been having heavy motion. We just opened a couple new trap houses out in Broward. I saw some numbers early this morning that we’re bringing in, and the margins are higher than last quarter. We ain’t got no eyes on us, no unexpected heat, I haven’t had to put my foot off in nobody’s ass for slacking off. You know how I feel though. When shit get to going too good in my life, and start getting too quiet, I feel like it’s only a matter of time before it start shaking up. You feel me?’ I asked him.
“Nah man. You can’t always think like that. Silence in your life don’t always gotta mean that chaos is coming. Sometimes, that shit can just mean that you’re operating the way you’re supposed to, and it’s no need for the added noise,” he schooled me, sticking his hand out, so that I could give him a pound, and I went ahead, and did just that.
I was already running late for the party, so I wasn’t going to stick around much longer. Just as I was about to push my seat back, stand up and dip, I heard footsteps coming down the stairs, so I turned my head to look and see who it was, and it was Uzi making her appearance.
She walked into the kitchen, and she was holding two phones in her hand. Her big, hazel eyes danced over to me, and she smiled big. Uzi was the kind of fine that you couldn’t stare at for too long because if you did, you were going to find yourself drooling over her, and Loco would have every right to want to beat the fuck out of me. I remember when they first got together years ago. I didn’t meet her until I was about fourteen or fifteen though. Man, talk about being starstruck over her ass. I heard so much shit about her in the streets, and the work that she’d put inalongside her other sister, and her pops, so to see her fine ass in person, I was tempted to ask her for her number.
“Look at you. You so handsome, boy!” she came over to me, dropping the phones down on the countertop, and she gave me a quick hug.
I fucked with Uzi. Even though I thought that she was fine as hell, I swear I wasn’t doing it in a sexual way. I really did look at her as a big cousin. Seven years ago, when I jumped into the game, started up my own crew, and got serious about having a big organization, she pulled me to the side, and she laid some heavy shit on me. The talk that we had was real. She came at me as a person that was once in my position, and you could tell that she only wanted the best for me, so I made sure that I took in everything that she told me, and I applied that shit.
“What’s up? What’s good with you?” I asked her, after taking my arm off her because I respectfully wrapped one arm around her, so that I could hug her.
“Nothing much. Were ya’ll talking about something important? I can go back upstairs,” she said.
“You good baby. He came by to drop off some weed,” Loco let her know, and she nodded her head at him, and then focused her attention back on me.
“You dressed up. Where you getting ready to go?” she inquired, all in my business like she always was whenever I came around.
“A lil listening party. Some shit out in Brickell. I’m only going to peek my head in for a little bit, post up with my niggas, and then I’m going to dip,” I told her.
By this point, Loco was back over at the pot, looking inside, and using the big serving spoon, so that he could mix around whatever it was that he was cooking.
“I saw your shit on social media that you were posting about your training program that you got coming up. I saw you post ita while back, and I meant to say something to you about it. I like that. I feel like that’s tough. Too many women walking around freely, not having shit on them to protect themselves, so I like what you out here doing. When is the class supposed to start?” I asked, wanting to know.
“Thank you, Dolo. I appreciate that. I saw a major problem that was happening in my city, and I wanted to help in any way that I could. The first class is set to start Monday morning. It’s about 40 girls. It had to be on a first come, first serve basis. So many women were trying to sign up, but with this being something new, I wasn’t trying to take on more than I could, which is why I’m starting out small. Depending on how this goes, we can go big the next time around,” she voiced, and as she was talking to me about it, you could hear the passion in her voice.
If anyone was meant to take on this type of job, it was Uzi. I knew that she would get those women right and give them a better means of protecting themselves.
I stuck around with Loco, and Uzi for a little while longer. Loco had my little cousins come down, so that they could speak, and lil Loco started talking trash, trying to get me to come upstairs with him in his room, talking about he wanted to beat me on the game. I didn’t have the time on me right now to stay, so I promised him that I would come back over next weekend with him, so that we could play the game together. That lil nigga wasn’t the kind of kid that you could promise some shit to, and not act on it, so I already knew that when next weekend rolled around, he was going to be calling my phone, wanting to know what time I was coming over.
Both Loco and Uzi gave me a speech, telling me to be careful tonight, and after that, I was on my way, walking out the door. My blacked-out Mercedes AMG G63 was pulled into the driveway like I paid the mortgage here. This car was my bad bitch. I was so in love with her sexy ass. Since a young nigga,I’ve always loved the G63. I knew that a lot of women pushed it, but niggas could push this shit too, and make it look gangsta. It was one of those trucks where you could tell that a young nigga like me was living off structure, I was making my own bag, and I wasn’t in a race for extra attention because even though this was a pricy, six figure car, we all know that I could have been pushing something much louder, and fancier than this. I liked to call this truck a dope boy classic, but it was still elite.
I went over to the truck, hopped inside, and immediately, you could smell the leather, mixed with my Creed Aventus that was still lingering inside the whip. I ran a strict program when it came to my car, so it was always clean in here. I barely allowed a motha fucka to sit in this bitch and chew gum.
The engine roared as I started it up, and I pulled out of the driveway. I drove with my left hand on the steering wheel, blasting Wale’s new album. I was stuck on thiseverything is a lotalbum bad. Wale was talking that shit, and lately, every time I hopped in my car, this was the only album that I’ve been playing.
