Ghetto Girls. Anthony Whyte

know anything about what happened?”

      “No-o-o,” the chorus followed as the three girls walked away.

      “Well the police think you do.” Mrs. Martinez had to shout to be heard.

      “We told them everything,” Coco shouted back.

      “We’ve got to get to class,” Danielle said. She was most famous for her variety of late excuses.

      “I’ll see y’all,” repeated Coco. Her oversize denim jacket and blue jeans sagged, and the black knapsack on her back moved with a slight bop as Coco made her way to the classroom.

      Damn, hope I can ace this test, she thought, taking her seat. She slipped off the knapsack and jacket with a single move. She was ready to begin the High School Regents Examination.

      Coco finished the test in three hours flat. She had always been a good student, always read and did her homework, and her grades reflected that hard work. Schoolwork afforded her the perfect escape from her volatile mother.

      “Good luck,” the examiner said with a smile. Coco handed her the pile of test papers. She retrieved her jacket and knapsack and nodded as she headed for the door. She made tracks down the hallway with that familiar bop.

      “Peace,” someone called after her.

      “Peace,” acknowledged Coco. She immediately reached for her cigarettes but put them away as she remembered the signs posted in the school’s hallways.

       NO SMOKING ALLOWED

      Coco spotted Josephine and Danielle and motioned for them to join her.

      “Think they got the report, yo?” Coco already knew the answer.

      “Yep, most def,” Josephine replied.

      “How else would they know?” Danielle added.

      “You know what, yo?” Coco continued. “We should stay da fuck out of this. You feel me?”

      “You mean mind our biz, shut our mouths? Cool by me,” Josephine said with a wink.

      “Can’t even remember what girlfriend looked like,” Coco chuckled.

      “But weren’t you the one who was pledging to do something for da sisterhood?” Danielle asked.

      “Okay, alright. Y’all didn’t have to go there, but you did. Ahight, I can vaguely remember some of it. I was caught up in the situation. I got emotional, so I flipped. I’m allowed to flip and talk shit, right? Okay, then that’s it, yo. Listen, I’ve got these dope lyrics.”

      “Yeah right, let’s hear them, then.” Josephine and Danielle both responded with avid anticipation.

      “Ahight, let’s get busy,” Coco said. “But let’s get da fuck outta here.”

      The girls put their silver-rimmed dark shades on and made their way out of the school building as if paparazzi awaited them. Danielle waved and blew a kiss to someone. Coco put a cigarette to her lips and turned her back to the wind to light it. She took a drag and passed it to Danielle.

      “Hold this, yo.” She reached into her backpack and pulled out a carefully folded white sheet.

      “Here’s some of the dopest lyrics you’re gonna hear anywhere,” she announced.

      The girls paused to listen.

      “It’s called ‘You Played Yourself.’” Coco began to half-hum, half-sing a slow-tempo number.

      “Go ahead, go ahead girl,” Da Crew chanted. Coco continued more loudly now:

      One day, one day You’re gonna fade away And I won’t need you Anyway, cause you’d have been played like the sucker punk You showed me you are. That day when you Played, played yourself You have played yourself You’ve played yourself Like dirty old Huggies Boy, get off my set I don’t want you Fucking up my environment Now that all your mother fucking money’s spent.

      “Yo, right there—right after ‘mothafucking money’s spent,’—y’all kick in like this, ‘Huh, yeah now all the cheddar’s gone. Wishing you was never born’, ” Coco explained to Da Crew.

      “Wait up. Back da fuck up. All we say is, ‘huh now all the cheddar’s gone…wishing you was never born?’” Josephine complained. “That’s it? Well, the shit sounds like it had some potential. But we gotta be saying more than just one line. Or that’s wack.”

      “I agree with Jo. And also it sounds like some kinda suicide Tracy Chapman song. Do you think people will start blaming us when they start jumping from buildings?” Danielle asked.

      “I could see it now,” Josephine deadpanned. “This just in—A trio of men leaped from a thirty- story apartment building in the city after listening to the lyrics of Coco’s latest song.”

      “Oh, so y’all gonna bail on the P.H. tip? Ahight, Kool ‘n’ da Gang then, yo.” Coco said.

      “Seriously, it has potential, but it needs a little work,” Josephine said with mock-tenderness. “I don’t think it will sell in today’s market, anyway. All the songs that hitting are songs about lick me up and lick me down, bump and grind. Shit…you know wit sex on the platter. You feel me? You can’t even get a hit with something that is positive for sisters.” Josephine concluded.

      “Uh-oh, here we go with the sister shit again. Here, smoke some more,” Danielle said as she passed the last half of the cigarette to Coco.

      “Ahight yo, if y’all wanna just keep dancing and singing other people’s old stuff, then we’re a group of—”

      “A group of what?” Danielle asked.

      “Imitators. There’s nothing original about our stuff.” Coco said with so much disdain that the other girls took exception to the statement.

      “Yeah, but damn near everyone sez we’ve got the dopest steps. Come on, we got a little sump’n, sump’n.” Josephine added.

      “Yeah, well I think we’ve got more. Lots more skills than we’re showing, yo. More dance moves. It’s in us, we just gotta find a way to bring it.” Coco said.

      “It takes time to happen. We’ve got to get more popular,” Josephine said.

      “I thought that’s why we did the club gigs on the weekends and the talent shows at school. That’s to bring us out there to the public.” Coco took a drag on the cigarette before continuing.

      “No doubt. We’ve got to establish a fan base. Then start beating ‘em in their heads with joints after joints.”

      “We can’t serve up no trash. Heads will walk.” Josephine said with a stiff upper lip. “No matter who you are no one is gonna support garbage all the time.”

      “We need a record deal. We could sing and do our own videos. We wouldn’t just be dancing in other people’s videos. We would be starring in our own joints, yo. Think about it,” Coco said elatedly. She took the last drag and flicked the butt away, over the heads of the other girls. They listened intently. “We need someone to make the beats for us, yo,” Coco said.

      “Yeah, and some lyrics,” Danielle said.

      “Get a brother who could rap and we would be in it like that,” Josephine said, snapping her fingers.

      “Not just any brother. We gotta have a brother who has thug appeal and who can rhyme wit da hardcore Ghetto steez,” Danielle agreed.

      “Who do we know like that, y’all?” Josephine asked.

      “There’s Silky Black, Snoop Dogg and Dr. Dre…” Danielle started but Coco interrupted.

      “Like this and like that and this and a creep to the next episode. Niggas be creeping