Authors: Tranay Adams
Me and My Hittas (8 page)
“Stay the fuck away from my bitch!” A scowling
Pavielle spat at his uncle, his words were like automatic
gunfire.
The skin on Gangsta’s forehead bunched together
hearing his youngest nephew get at him like that. Had it
been anyone else he would have drew his banger and
cracked his skull to the white meat with it.
Pavielle leaned in closer to his uncle and repeated
himself, “I said, Stay. The. Fuck. Away. From my bitch,
nigga! You heard me, Hotlink!” Hotlink was a name given
to Gangsta when he was in high school. He was known for
running up in some of everything raw. And on more than
one occasion he had gotten burned with an S.T.D, hence his
nickname.
I seen that shit earlier.”
placing a hand on his arm.
“Nah, fuck a chill, Gucci,” Pavielle’s face twisted and
he snatched his arm away violently. “This old ass nigga
ain’t finna run up in my bitch! Not this nigga here!” He
smacked his hand up against his chest hard with each word.
“The rest of these niggaz running around here may be
scared of him, but I’m not.” he whipped out his .9mm,
placed it on the table and leaned back in his chair, folding
his arms to his chest. He mad dogged his uncle with the
corner of his top lip twitching like an angry wolf.
“Blood, what the fuck is wrong with you?” Gouch
snapped looking at his brother like he’d lost his goddamn
mind. “This is our fucking family!”
“This mothafucka ain’t my family,” Pavielle stared
Gangsta dead in his eyes. The O.G held his gaze, clenching
his muscular, veined fists firmly. “He’s just a washed up,
hasbeen gangsta, running around like he’s in his twenties,
tryna relive his glory days.”
Gouch defended his brother’s actions.
Gangsta spoke, eyes still on Pavielle.
brother’s gun but he smacked his hand.
“I’m not playing with you, Gucci! Don’t touch my
strap, fam!” Pavielle turned his hateful eyes on his brother
for a split second before returning them to his uncle. “So
how you wanna do this, old nigga? From the shoulders or
with the tools?”
“We can handle this shit from the shoulders!”
“Alright then, step outside.” Pavielle went to rise and
he fired on that ass. The young nigga winced and his neck
bent at a funny angle. His weight shifted in the chair and it
went flying backwards, spilling him onto
the floor,
unconscious.
“He’s knocked out cold, Gucci,” Gangsta announced,
looking at Pavielle snoring on the floor. “Help me get’em
onthe couch.” he and Gouch carried Pavielle into the living
room and laid him out on the couch. After draping a blanket
over him, the O.G kneeled down to prop a pillow behind his
head. “I don’t know what I’m going to do with you, you
crazy son of a bitch.” He kissed him on the forehead and cut
the lights out in the living room.
Pavielle woke up the next morning on the couch with
a really bad hangover. He had no idea what had happened
last night that left him with a sore jaw and Gangsta and
Gouch didn’t bother to remind him.
“Where’s Lil’
Gangsta? Fool was supposed to have
been here this A.M.” Pavielle asked as he whipped out his
dick to take a piss.
“I don’t know,” Gangsta answere
d, shaving his head
in the bathroom sink. With each naked strip he created on
his head, he rinsed the shaver off under the faucet.“He was
‘pose to have been here an hour ago.”
“We’ve gotta hire
better help.” Pavielle glanced over
his shoulder as he held his meat, relieving his bladder. “I
know that’s yo’ dead homie’s lil’ brother and all, but
damn!” he shook his head because Lil’ Gangsta was a pitful
mothafucka who was more so a liability than an asset.
Lil’
Gangsta was Big Gangsta’s late homeboy, Tkay’s, baby brother that had gotten murdered in a drive by
a few years back. On a winter night, lying on the sidewalk,
with his blood pooling beneath him, he made Gangsta
promise to look after his baby brother. Honoring the
promise he made to his homeboy, Gangsta took his friend’s
younger brother under his wing, just as he did his own
nephews.
“Let me worry about Lil’ G,” Gangsta said, washing
traces of shaving cream from his bald head.“You and
Gouch drop off that product. That work ain’t gone deliver
its self.”
“I’m on it, boss.” Pavielle flushed the toilet and
washed his hands. “You know momma got dialysis today,
right?”
Gget’s here.” He assured him.
bathroom.
Pavielle threw on a throwback 49niners jersey, a
matching snapback and Levi’s 501’s. He then got Gouch
from the other bedroom and they advanced on the front
door. The brothers were to make their rounds to all five of
their uncle’s trap houses, dropping off work.
Pavielle turned the knob and pulled open the door. To
his surprise he found Lil’ Gangsta with his fist raised about
to knock. Scum was in the corners of the hoodlum’s eyes
and there was dry saliva around his mouth. You could tell
he had awakened not too long ago.
Lil’ Gangsta was a skinny, brown skinned cat with
his
hood tattooed all over his shaved head. He was known for
playing with guns so niggaz gave him a wide berth.
“Blood, where the fuck have you been?” Pavielle
fumed. “Your ass was supposed to have been here, you’re
fucking up our money.”
“My fault, Blood, I over slept.”
“Nah, you over partied! You were over at the Fun-
Zone last night, getting high and fucking with the Swans.
And don’t try to lie, ‘cause niggaz already told me.”
“Damn, who the fuck are you, my P.O?” Lil’
Gangsta’s forehead wrinkled, as he looked him up and
down.
“Nah, homeboy,” Pavielle shot back. “I’m the
mothafucka that’s gonna guarantee you have a closed
casket if you don’t hold it down.” He lifted his jersey and
exposed the Tec .9mm nestled in the front of his jeans.
brushed past him into the house.
that shit moving to the back where unc is.”
Pavielle headed out of the front door with his brother
bringing up the rear. Gouch closed the door behind them as
they crossed the threshold.
his big homie was getting dressed.
homie as he plopped down on the bed.
the mirror.
“I called Blood bix times; hit both of his bontacts.
And he ain’t never hit me back. I’m telling you, old boy is
ducking us, real life. He doesn’t have any intentions on
paying us for that half a bird. You need to let me slide by
that fool’s house and put this thang to work. You know what
I’m saying? I don’t know why you front that fool some
work anyway, he’s a crab.”
“Money talks and bullshit walks.” Gangsta
proclaimed. “I’ll do business with whomever if they
holding the right bag. Beef doesn’t pay the mortgage or the
car note.”
with enemies, though.”
“Right,” Gangsta replied, looping a gold necklace
around his neck after sliding on a beautiful gold and
diamond pinky ring. He studied his gear in the mirror while
rubbing his jeweled hands together, biting down on his
bottom lip. “We’ll I’ma holla at Pussy, if he doesn’t say
what I wanna hear then we bringing them thangs out, you
Griff me?”
“That’s what the
fuck I’m talking about,” Lil’
Gangsta exclaimed excitedly, whipping out a long nose .44
Magnum and a Glock .40. He pointed them bitches around
the room, visualizing busting at Pussy. “Bang, bang.”
Later that night Gangsta had put in one last call to
Pussy about the half of bird he had fronted him on
consignment. Calling from his cell, he didn’t receive an
answer so he waited about an hour before using one of his
workers cellulars; Pussy picked right up then.
“Big Time, what it do, my nigga?” Gangsta aske
d
through the burnout cellular pressed to his ear. “You’re a
hard man to get in touch with.”
his lying ass. “What can I do for you, though?”
Gangsta was taken aback by how Pussy was acting,
surely this mothafucka knows he owes me for that half of
bird,
he thought
. There’s no way he forgot. What did he
think? Half a brick of coke fell from the sky and landed in
his lap? Nah, this nigga is tryna play me. It’s cool, though,
I’ma just play along.
for that half.” Gangsta told him.
Pussy was really wearing on Gangsta’s nerves with
his
pretending
to be
dumb, but he maintained his
composure.
ago.” he reminded him.
“Oooooh, that half,” Pussy pretended to recall. He
knew exactly what half Gangsta was talking about. “Homie,
I’ve been meaning to call you about that. My baby momma
caught wind of me fucking around with mylil’young ho.
Mannnnn, I come home and this bitch done keyed both of
my cars; my X5 and my Benz. She cut up all my gear. My
shoes, my leathers, the minks, and flushed that shit you
gave me. Not to mention, some work of my own I had
stashed. I must have beat that bitch half to death. A nigga
almost caught his third strike and shit.”
capping him, trying to run that weak ass game.
have to do with me?”
bitch ass nigga!”
mine, I’ma…”
dick, you bitch ass trick!”
In the hood, telling another man to suck your dick was
a violation punishable by death. Gangsta had to answer the
call or forfeit his reputation. If it got out that Pussy had
strong armed some work from him, then he would have to
worry about every two-bit hustler trying to pull the same
scheme. And he couldn’t allow that, because in his business
ones reputation was everything. He could have easily sent
some of his hitters by Pussy way to lay his ass down, but
due to the disrespect and his his ego, Gangsta decided to
answer back himself. It had been five years since he had
killed something and he thought this was the perfect time to
bring his strap out of retirement.
Gangsta
and Lil’ Gangsta
stalked Pussy
to the
Westside. On the way over they missed their chance to burn
him at a red light on Slauson and Western. Gangsta had
pointed his burner out of the driver side window at him and
was about to blow the nigga’z noddles out of his head, when
he spotted a police cruiser coming up beside them. Right
then he thought that nigga Pussy had a guardian angel
watching over him. And if this was the case then he was
lucky that he couldn’t see him, because if he could he would
have blasted on his mothafucking ass, too.
The gangstas decided to keep following their prey
until another opportunity presented its self. And so they
found themselves at the Barbary Coast in the city of
Gardena off of Western Avenue. Gangsta parked on a
residential street, eight cars down from Western Avenure.
He and his accomplice slumped low in the seats of his
Cutlass Supreme, keeping their eyes glued to the entrance
of the establishment. They were dressed in black from head
to toe. Gangsta gripped a long nose .357 Magnum and his
protégé clutched a Glock .40 with an extended magazine.
So far the pair had spent a total of four hours staking out the
Barbary Coast waiting for Pussy to make his exit. Lil’
Gangsta had grown impatient. All of his bitching and
complaining was getting on his big homie’s nerves. The
nigga acted like they were picking up a couple of girls for a
drive-in movie and they were taking too long to come
outside.
“Fuuuck
.” Lil’ Gangsta vented his frustration. He ran
his hand down his face and blew hot air. “When this nigga
gone show his ugly ass face so I can blow that bitch off,
Blood?”
“See,
that’s the problem with you young niggaz
today.You don’t have any patience. Haven’t you heard of
the phrase, ‘Good things come to those who wait?’”
situation.”
“What chu think they doing in thereanyway?”
in there; drinking, smokingand scheming on some hoes.”
pound.
“Shhhh,” Gangsta
helda finger to his lips. “I think
that’s him.” He nodded to the windshield at a man exiting
thegentlemen’s club with two strippers.