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Death of a Gangsta |
| Written by CAS | |
| Tuesday, 04 March 2008 | |
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Share it:      “ Man we was rollin on them hataz mane I was all like what and then ahhhhhh.” Said T-Red. He was my main friend telling me of his adventures in the east side of town. We where driving in a grey Honda and we where ready for a California Friday night. I was sitting on about $75 and was willing to spend it all on a good time. We pulled out of Lincoln Square and were cruising on Main. Main Street was the hottest spot in Louis Spring on Friday nights. There were women on every corner and dealers on every block. Some dealers worked for our crew, but around here you couldn’t trust anybody. Especially Latinos, and trust me there where plenty. T-Red was still talking about his adventure and I finally got tired of it and decided to show him my new Alpine 10s. We where listing to Crank Dat Soulja Boy when I pulled over and talked to a dealer we knew named Cee. “ Aye yo Cee, mane get yo monkey butt over hurr and get me dat sticky grane.” I yelled. Cee came over there and gave me what I needed and when we finally got to pulling out back on Main, Soulja Boy was saying, “ Supersoak that Ho.” We where just chilling when I heard my phone singing Let me get em by Soulja Boy, or rather felt it vibrate then heard the singing. I turned down the music and answered the phone. “ Yo. Yeah whats crackin boi. Yeah we gonna hit dat spot tonight.” Then I heard gunshots. “ Aye yo Cee. Man boy Cee.” A mexican answered the phone. “ Tonight is your last night hombre.” And hung up on me. I had no time to think whenever T-Red pointed out there were two Mexicans acting suspicious behind us. We turned of Main and hit the gas. The Mexicans followed. We went wide open through the bypass, but the Mexicans stayed on our tail. T-Red began loading his gun. “ It’s gonna get ugly tonight.” T- Red said and began firing shots at the Mexicans. They never returned fire. “ T. Mane maybe they aint wantin trouble.” I said. T-Red’s gun aimed at me. “ O they want it all right mane. You screwed up and now there is a bounty on that beady little head of yours. Mane sorry about this but this your last ride.” I slumped in my seat and kept my eyes on the road. Tears began to form in my eyes. Not because I was afraid of dying tonight. No that was the life of a gangster. I was suppose to be prepared for that. I wasn’t prepared for a lesson I had been told I would learn, because it happens everyday. My best friend had traded me. Me best friend, my neighbor, and T-Red was even my younger brother and he was going to kill me. I heard the shot go off and I expected to feel pain, but I didn’t. T-Red was dead. In the mist of having more heart cut from my very chest and broke, the Latino car had pulled up beside me. They hit my rear quarter panel before I knew it, and the last thing I remember seeing before I hit the median wall, was the look on that dirty Mexican’s face. Copyright 2008 CAS |
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