𝙏𝙍𝘼𝙁𝙁𝙄𝘾

𝗖 𝗥 𝗨 𝗕 𝗦 𝗜 𝗗 𝗘

||Dayvon Daquan Bennett||

"So you coming to that block party or what?" Misharron asked taking an inhale of her blunt.

"Ion even live on dat block."  I responded coming out the kitchen with a red cup filled with sprite. 

"So? There's gon be mad niggas there, i might even get me some pussy if I feel like it."

"You so gay." I smacked dropping a couple Jolly Ranchers in the cup. Asian shrugs her shoulders not taking no mind to what I said. To be honest this life is getting mad repetitive, probably one of the reasons i missed that Durk nigga in the first place. 

I take out the small bottle of grape juice from pocket and pour about half the bottle in. I take a sip of it to make sure its to my liking before popping a straw in that bitch. Shit almost taste like lean. 

I hear Asian laugh so I look up to see her staring at me, "You and your fake lean concoction." She chuckled while shaking her head. "And what about it?" I said making that bitch face. 

I take my seat back on the couch and kick my legs up. "So wassup wit' you?" I ask Misha trying to start up conversation. 

"Ain't nun much, just the usual scamming."

"You gon get yourself killed one day with that shit."

"HA! Your one to talk." 

The sat there for about an hour just smoking and talking before i decided to take my leave. i was probably just gonna stop at Mama Mac place to pick up some food then head home. Today has been way too rowdy for it just to be a normal one. I might have to call up Mani and tell him to touch down with me tomorrow cause ain't no way I'm going to some random party with just Misha and her crazy ass.

●●●●●

||Omniscient||

It was the next day and the Nigglet Four were all hanging around waiting for the kick back to start. It really had no specific start time, you just show up when you want to. The grill was already being lit up and the beer belly uncles were ready with their Jesus sandals and white stained shirts to burn up some ribs and hotdogs. 

"Aye lemme get sum of that." Shiesty said reaching his hand towards the grill. 

 "Man if y'on get yo dusty musty fucking fingers away from this god danm grill, so God help me!" Some old uncle shouted walking up to the grill with a spatula and a bowl filled with sauce.

 "My bad." Shiesty raised his hands in surrender slowly backing up from the charcoal radiating appliance.

 "Com'n Trell help me with this watermelon." Dia instructed trying to keep Shiesty away from the food.

Dom and Durk were at the tables putting out the food and throwing out random verses to each other.

"Play like I'm dumb, as soon as it pop, I'm going retarded. He say I'm hard, and he say I'm garbage, I'm rich regardless. We in Miami in the middle of the winter and we on them jet skis If we in Atlanta, I'm runnin' the 'Cat, and I'm workin' the red key."  Domonique rapped as a beat played in the background. 

Durk hyped him up before starting his own verse.

"I cannot mention my homies inside of my songs 'cause I know they be trappin' a lot. I can't keep taking these pills, when I'm in the trenches, they say I be cappin' a lot. I know a nigga who say he got rich off the dope, but I know he be actin' a lot. I know some niggas who say that they took down the city but niggas be lackin' a lot."