OPERATION SIDE NIGGAS BOOK 6 OF 6 (FINALE Or NAH)

4. Merrick

I asked my Heavenly Father why I'm always crossing the Jordan River and in my dream He Answered, "Because your enemies remain sea sick." I guess I should feel better, but I couldn't because family was worse than a starving baser sucking down mollies. And these fuck bois low key mad AF at a nigga because I'm not buddy buddy with their backstabbing asses after they dragged my good name through the mud.

Fuck you.

Seriously. Had me looking like a damn Cambodian fool out in these streets. This past Sunday I had to step out of church because some nigga named Bert's testimony had me reliving some shit I'd tried like hell to forget.

Lighting a Newport, I had to bite back tears because I wasn't a hoe ass nigga...even though he had me feeling like one. Joel Osteen is a prime example of why I give my piggy bank 10% of my check and not the pastor...

If you're not eating my ass, feeding me or paying my rent then fuck your feelings and suck this dick. Yes, I...said...what...I...said, bitch. Get. Over. It. You gotta condition your mind to turn against what your heart desires because most of the time your gut thought otherwise.

Its funny. Bitches thought that they knew me based on what a bitch said about me behind my back. Um...tip your waitress, bitch because the messenger was a dirty shone with outdated information.

That's like an employer requiring a Bachelor's degree for a minimum wage position, hoe go kill yourself. Bitch I'm me and I'm not changing who I am for a basic bitch.

Mama always said look down on a bitch when she was sucking your dick right and look back on a bitch when she eating your ass right. But never kiss that hoe in the mouth.

Tasting your own ass wasn't in the lesson plans.

What was it about a luxury car that made a bitch pussy wet af? It took me six years, but I saved $65,000 and bought me a BMW.

I've worked on every damn job you could imagine to secure the bags necessary to buy a panty dropper. It was the hottest fully loaded car in my hood.

All black with a Haitian and Bahamas flag dangling from the rear view mirror and titanium testicles hanging just below
my Miami Dolphins license plate.

Everybody was on my jock like a tick on my nuts. Hoes that sneak dissed me suddenly wanted to fuck me and a good ninety hoes sucked my asshole and my dick on the back seat and swallowed my cum like a plastic cup at a sperm bank over the next few weeks.

Just for a ride to the corner store. Couldn't stand those bitches, but head was head and I never turned down a spark in my brain that raised my IQ by a thousand percent.

Niggas that hated me suddenly invited me to their whack ass gatherings in the hood and I disrespectfully declined.

Not only that...the poe-poe's were undercover haters. Every damn day racist ass cops pulled me over for no reason, harassing me. They accused me of being a thug, dope boi or a pimp, telling me that I was a part of a drug cartel.

They drew their weapons, slammed me on the asphalt and used K9 dogs to sniff my shit and found nothing.

Rude sonsofbitches. I was always clean. My license and registration is legit pussy ass crackahs.

"Is this your vehicle?" they'd ask.

Duh, honkey. It is.

They'd run my tags and everything. Sorry bastards. Officer James dumb ass pat my down and massaged my ass and my dick so much I came in my boxes draws and I played that shit off. Faggot. Go get some twat and stay off my dick, pig.

Now I was being harassed after I left the Mall. Crackers swarmed on me because I looked better in my Steve Harvey suit than they looked in those tired ass uniforms.

"Is this your car?"

"Nah. Its ya mama's car bih."

"Why didn't you pull right over, nigger?"

"For what? I didn't do shit wrong creep."

"Run his plates."

"Run deez nuts fuck boi."

"He's clean," said the second officer.

"Can I go now?"

"Bye, nigger."

"Whatever crackah."