Page 13 of On Everything
When I stepped out onto the street, Princeton was sitting on his chrome bike with a grey hoodie pulled over his head. Hehad me cop this bike as my first payment to him when he started working for me. Since then, he’d tricked it out, putting pegs on the shit, spraying the wheels, and all types of shit. I’m happy that I could put money in his pockets to do shit like this. It’s better than him being out on the streets and getting killed because of the drug game.
“Yo what up, Hov.”
“You got some info for me?”
“Yeah, one of your Bronx distributors Diablo got popped yesterday in Castle Hill.”
“Diablo? My distributor? The big Deebo looking ass nigga? Popped by who? Why am I just now hearing this shit?”
“Popped by some nigga named Kairo. Said he was over there tripping over his bitch Jessica, but I don’t know how true that part is. I believe it though. I hear she was hoeing while he was locked up. I figured you didn’t know about it though, because you didn’t have anybody out there claiming the territory. I hear niggas already saying they taking over. K’so and Hernandez mafia specifically. They asses supposedly celebrating on Snapchat already.”
“Hell no, I didn’t know because no one thought to call me. The other distributor I have in the Bronx lives in Castle Hill and that nigga hasn’t said shit. He should know how quickly niggas try to move on unclaimed territory. Shid, I’m sure Diablo’s corner boys already abandoned ship. He could've been out there, recruiting, and taking over those blocks by now.”
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 brokenand 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.
