Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
"Well, well well... Cliff finally let you off tha leash huh?" I laughed as Murda got in the car.
"Niggah fuck you, where is we goin' anyway?"
"Just ride, you actin' like ya ass has somthin' betta ta do and we know that ain't true bein' that you turned down the tour and yo ass been avoidin' going to tha studio." I looked over at him and he just shook his head.
My phone stayed going off with promoters, club owners, label executives and shit...even Tina Snow was callin' trying to see if Murda had changed his mind about the tour. I wasn't goin' to press him too much right now. After the show at The Pynk I needed things and him to calm down a bit, but best believe we needed to get back to the plan and stack this paper.
"Man guess who called me?... Truman." I told Murda.
"Oh forreal? What that niggah been doin?"
"I'on know, all I know is that he called middle of the night talkin' about pick him up from the bus station."
"Shit, knowin' him it could be anything."
Truman was my cousin, more like my brotha. We all grew up togetha, me, him and LaMarques. You couldn't tell us shit, we ran the neighborhood, that was until Tru's dad died and his mom came to Chucalissa and snatched his ass up. He had been livin' in Texas ever since. He would visit every now and then but even that was very little, so for me to get a call from him in the middle of the night telling me to pick him up from the bus station was an indication that something was up.
"Man, whur in tha fuck is this niggah at?" Murda asked.
"And you expect me to know why? shit, I been out hur just like you, looking fah his ass." I took out my phone and dialed the number he called me from last night.
The number you have dialed is no longer in service
"Man, the number is no longer in service...let's just go. He gon call again." I told Murda. Just as I was about to put my phone back in my pocket someone put their arm around my neck, and I felt cool steel at my throat.
"What tha fuck!" Murda turned around and reached for his gun but stopped and started laughin'.
"Ya'll niggahs still slow as heyell." I pushed his arm off from around my neck and turned around to see my cousin, Truman, putting up his knife and gun.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
