Page 84 of It’s The Dawg In Him For Me

I shook my head. “No, the fuck I am not. I’ma kill that nigga.”

“What the fuck did he do?”

“That nigga pulled up on Nylah and showed her a fuckin’ picture of that bitch sucking my dick.”

“OH SHIT!” Dre yelled out. “Let me call him.”

Dre walked ova to his phone while I took his blunt outta the ashtray and lit it, watching Dre make the call.

“Yo,” Dre said; that bitch nigga picked up for him. “I need you to slide back through.”

I stared Dre down as he talked to that clown ass nigga.

“Nigga, did you do some ho shit?” Dre asked him, and then I saw Dre get irritated. “Man, that’s some weak ass shit. Either way, you gonna answer for the shit.”

I nodded. I liked the way my nigga was handling the call, then he pulled the phone away from his ear.

“That bitch hung up on me,” he said.

I passed him the blunt. “His brotha did the same shit.”

“So, what’s the move?”

“I need to find them niggas,” I said, bout to walk out the kitchen.

“Wait up, nigga, I'm ridin’,” Dre said as he walked behind me.

We walked outta the trap and hopped into my car, and I pulled off not even knowing where to check for this nigga.

“Go to his momma's crib first,” Dre said before I could even ask.

I nodded.

“I can’t believe that nigga did that lame ass shit,” I stated.

“Facts, that nigga hurt when he been running through bitches since he got home.

“I love Nylah, man,” I said, making Dre snap his head, looking at me. “I know I'm not movin’ the right way, but I love that girl. That nigga bet not have fucked shit up with me and her for good.”

Dre exhaled. “I don’t know, nigga. You might have to do somethin big to get her back, but…then again, it was just head; that’s not really cheating.”

I laughed a lil’ bit, knowing damn well Nylah was not gonna go for that shit.

“I did stop the bitch. I didn’t let her finish.”

“Use that shit, nigga,” Dre said, laughing. “Do whateva you got to do to get ya girl back.”

After twenty minutes and a whole conversation on how I could get Nylah to forgive me, we pulled up to Brandon and Blaze’s momma’s house and hopped outta the car like we were on top flight security shit, rushing to the front door. Dre banged on it, and we took a step back, looking up and down the block while we waited for somebody to answer.

“I don’t give a fuck what anybody says, we checkin’ the crib.”

“Noted,” he responded.

After a few minutes, their moms came to the door.

“Ma dukes,” Dre said. “Ya sons here?”

“No,” she responded low. “I haven’t seen them in a week.”