Название | Streets of New York |
---|---|
Автор произведения | Mark Anthony |
Жанр | Современная зарубежная литература |
Серия | |
Издательство | Современная зарубежная литература |
Год выпуска | 0 |
isbn | 9781935883005 |
“What up,” Diamond picked up on the first ring.
“Yeah, it’s me. I’m outside,” Squeeze stated.
“Okay,” she answered and went to open the door.
Outside her door, their gats were cocked back and ready. They heard the door being unlocked and when it opened, they saw the bitch’s face. All four men rushed in with guns drawn, yoke the bitch and tossed her to the ground. They were able to quickly restrain her but she let off a piercing scream.
Hearing his ho yell woke up the young pimp and his bottom bitch. The nigga was wide-eyed when he found himself staring down the barrel of a 9mm.
“What da fuck?” he asked in bewilderment.
“Nigga, you know what time it is. You fucked up!” Squeeze announced glaring down at him.
“Daddy, I’m sorry. I didn’t know!” Diamond shouted from her hands and knees. “I’m sorry Daddy. I’m sorry!”
“Bitch, shut da fuck up cuz you bout to get yours!” The pimp was furious. His bottom ho was in tears. Show and Pooh dragged both of them off the bed and onto the floor.
“You got dat money on you?” Squeeze asked taking aim at the pimp’s dome.
“Fuck you!” he shot back.
“What? Nigga, you ain’t in no position right now to come out your mouth. Don’t fuck wit’ me! I’ll body your ass right now if you want. Fuckin’ test me, nigga!”
“Where da money at?” Squeeze shouted.
The pimp didn’t answer. He glared at his pathetic, whimpering ho’ across the room, wanting to beat the shit out of her for being so fucking careless. Without warning, Pooh rushed over to the pimp and kicked him across his face with his size 11 Tim’s. The young pimp bellowed in pain, clutching his jaw as blood leaked from his wound onto the room carpet.
“Nigga, we ain’t fuckin’ playin’! Fuck dat!” Pooh shouted aiming the gat at the pimp.
“Nah, chill. We just tear this room apart till we find it,” Promise uttered. He was the most quiet. All night he was thinking that they didn’t need to go that far with the violence. “You know dat shit up in here somewhere,” he said quietly.
They all nodded.
“Take your fuckin’ clothes off,” Squeeze demanded of the pimp.
“Y’all bitches too. Fuckin’ strip, hos’!” Show yelled impatiently.
Both ho’s took their clothes off. The room was searched and torn apart. They knew the money was in there somewhere. Homeboy didn’t have any cash on him and neither did his hos’. Then Show smashed the television against the floor and found the dough taped behind the TV.
“Got it,” he shouted.
“How much, how much?” Squeeze asked quickly joining him.
“Hold on. I’m counting it now.”
His hand slipped around twenty and fifty-dollar bills. It was $2,200.
“Ahight, let’s be out,” Promise said.
“Nah, nah, not yet,” Pooh said peering down at the naked bitches.
“What?” Promise asked bewildered.
“Bitch, come over here and suck my dick!” Show demanded.
Her eyes were stained with tears. “Bitch, you deaf? You heard what da fuck I said. Come over here and suck my dick!” Show shouted as he unzipped his pants and pulled out his dick.
The whore did as told, got on her knees whimpering, and slowly but reluctantly placed his dick into her mouth. Diamond glanced at her pimp before she started sucking.
“Um…ssshhhh…shit! Dats the fuck I’m taking about!” Show grunted.
crime side
ERICK S GRAY
“I ain’t down for this shit. I’m out,” Promise said, leaving the room and heading back to the truck.
Within ten minutes, both hos’ were getting sodomized in the motel room something serious. Their pimp was tied up and placed in the corner. All he could do was bit his tongue, screaming out. He watched both his hos’ fucking and sucking.
Promise woke up to the sound of Jay Z’s Big Pimpin, blasting through his stereo system.
You know I thug ‘em, fuck ‘em, love ‘em, leave ‘em
Cause I don’t fuckin’ need ‘em
Take ‘em out the hood
Keep ‘em looking good
But I don’t fuckin’ feed ‘em
First time they fuss I’m breezin’
Talking ‘bout what’s the reasons
It was his alarm indicating it was time to get his ass up and get ready for the long day ahead. He tossed and turned for a few moments, trying to drown the sound out by placing the pillow over his head but it didn’t work. Jay Z’s vocals could still be heard loudly. He cursed himself for setting his stereo alarm so damn loud.
…beep-beep and I’m pickin ‘em up
Let ‘em play with the dick in the truck
Many chicks wanna put Jigga fist in cuffs
Divorce him and split his bucks
Just because you got good head
I’mma break bread
So you can be livin’ it up
Shit I part’s wit nuthin’
Y’all be frontin’…
“Fuck it!” he mumbled, throwing back the covers and rising. “She gotta get up anyway,” he said referring to his company in the next room. He stepped out of bed clad only in his red, silk boxers and quickly pressed the power button on the stereo shutting off the loud rap.
We spendin’ cheese
Check ‘em out now
Big pimpin’
On B.L.A.D.’s
We doin’ big pimpin’ up in NYC
It’s just that Jigga-man, Pimp-C and
B.U.N.B.
Check ‘em out now…
He headed to the second bedroom and peered in at her sound asleep. She was looking so peaceful he thought he should give her five more minutes. Maybe go downstairs and make a quick cup of tea, then come back and wake her.
“Nah, fuck that, she can’t be late again,” he thought aloud, staring at the time. It would soon be seven. Promise walked into the bedroom and sat gently down on the bed next to her. He silently looked at his three-year old daughter, Ashley.
“Ashley, get up,” he said shaking his daughter gently.