Thugs and Hood Love: COMPLETE (Editing)

Thugs and Hood Love 1

Have you ever had that thought where you wondered when did your life get so fucked up? Or why you were the one chosen to live the fucked up life before you could even do something to make life hate you so much. Everywhere you look you realize how messed up your life is. The people you see, the way things are, and the way in which you live your life, you realize life is only full of shit. You have to get through life by selling drugs on the streets and a part time job that doesn't pay half the bills by itself. You go through life scheming your way in and out of muthafuckers lives because that's all you know. You don't think twice before you act upon instincts. You do things so grimy that God himself would look at you and shake His head. But you don't think about that. And when you do, you honestly don't give a damn because this is a dog-eat-dog world.

You only think about the now. You never really think of the future because tomorrow's never promised. Life could be taken away from you at any given moment, so why waste time planning for nothing? Your constant thought is money, parties, and sex. Those were your three main priorities because they involved taking risks, something you were known for doing. You rebel against any and everything, especially if told not to. But the thing you rebel against most is what most people crave, what most people need, and what most people would die trying to find, LOVE. You never follow rules because there's no rule about how to live your life. There's only rules about how not to live your life.

If any of the shit I had just said had you thinking, 'damn, is this bitch calling me out,' then you're like me, Lyric. I'm a bad ass that's well known in the streets of the Queens. I'm 5'8, with a dark Hershey's chocolate skin complexion, dark brown eyes that somehow had a twinkle, jet black hair, and a body that could please any man. To sum it all up, I was wanted by many but taken by none. Don't get me wrong though. I wasn't the hood bitch with the nappy weave, ghetto booty, or stank body. I was BEAUTIFUL. Maybe it was because my dad was full Haitian and my mom was Jamaican. But whatever the case was , I was lucky to look as good as I did.

I fuck with the hood niggahs and bitches, but I fuck only dick. I know the game as well as I know my own name. I could care less about the people on the streets. They do what they have to do to survive the heartless ass streets, and I do the same because the streets are the one place where love just doesn't exist.

No matter who you are, what you have, or where you are from, the streets doesn't show any mercy. Family doesn't matter because everyone is just trying to survive. There's no time to worry about your mom, dad, sister, brother, niece, nephew, cousin, grandma, or no one. You only have time to look out for you, but you don't even have that long. Actually, you don't have any time at all to be caught slipping, because when you do, it may be your last chance to do anything. You have to always remember that hood love doesn't exist. You have to remember that shit like you remember to breathe. You breathe to live and you remember hood love doesn't exist because they are both essential to surviving. Thugs and hood love didn't get along yesterday, doesn't get along today, and won't get along tomorrow.

Back then, I was the type of bitch who loved the ghetto life because it was the only kind of life I knew. I never knew about the all white picket fence, the man that was in love with me and only me. Hell, I never knew what love was. But none of that bothered me because I only cared to be one of the most paid bitches in the hood and never thought about the kind of love I knew I couldn't have.

But that was then and this is now. I'm now living the life many motherfuckers in the hood dream about living. Most people take their whole lives trying to get to where I'm at now. Never in my life would I have thought that the one motherfucker I hated and loved, both at the same time, would be the one person that would change my life around. The niggah changed my life in more than one way. He laid the pipe down good as hell. He was fine as fuck. He catered to my every need, mentally, physically, and emotionally, and most importantly, sexually. He was the niggah with the dick all the hood hoes craved to have their pussy juices name on. On the streets, he had the hoes getting locked-up just to get their name in his mind, even if it was just for a day, sometimes not even that long. They fucked, sucked, and schemed any and everybody he needed them to do so he could set the person up. But if you think the hoes crazy over him, just wait 'til you hear about his team.

They were all just the same. It's like they played 'Simon says' all day,every day. His team would lay down their life for him, get locked up just as well for him, kill anybody, male or female, just to please him. The people in the hood did stupid shit all for him. He had mad respect. Bitches loved him. Niggahs praised him. Hoes craved him. And no one at all was stupid enough to dare and try and play him.

Don't get me wrong, he wasn't all bad. He was truly the all American hood niggah. He was the person everyone looked up to. He was the problem solver in the hood. If a woman had kids and got kicked out of her place, he was there to get her back in. If one of his boys needed anything, he was there and ready for whatever. Before anything became finalized in the hood, he had to approve first. Nothing went by or through him without his permission. He was quick to ride-or-die for his niggahs just as quick as they were to take the blame for him. Everyone loved him, even me- but I wasn't in love with him. He was the fucking president of the hood, and I'm now the honorary First Lady that's now running shit. Together, we ran shit like we had no worries. He had his team and I had my girls. We were on our way to being modern day Bunnie and Clyde.

But before I get to all the good shit, you have to know the beginning. You can't get a full understanding of my life if you don't know the whole story. I have to tell you how I had to start from the bottom to get to the top, how I had to go through hell and back to live the life I knew I deserved, how I had to set motherfuckers straight on the streets, how I had to show folks that I wasn't some dumb bitch out on the streets that wanted only d&d, dick and dough, who was just trying to get in where I fit in.

I was the type of bitch that had to beat ass and tell motherfuckers constantly to kick rocks. I had to show the hoes and niggahs out on the blocks that I could fuck up their life before they could even realize it. I was the type of chick that wanted dick and dough, but I wouldn't let that shit get to my head because I knew where I belonged because I was always on top of shit. Motherfuckers tried to get in where they fitted in with me, not the other way around.

There I go again with getting ahead of myself. I just get to focused and serious with this shit. But life on the streets is a serious ass place, so I guess I adapted to survive. But first things first, let me let y'all motherfuckers now this here ain't no happily ever after story. There ain't never a happily ever after anyways in the real world. Let me know anybody you know that ain't have to struggle to live the good life; even if it was temporary. Anyways, let's get to the damn story about Thugs and Hood Love...

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Comment on how you think the story will be...And what it will be about... Excuse any mistakes...

(=Uniquely Twinkle=)