leg·end
1. a traditional story sometimes popularly regarded as historical but unauthenticated.
2. an extremely famous or notorious person, especially in a particular field.
When you look at Marcel Young (Vince Staples) you see an average height, sli...
At a very young age, I could look at people and tell that everyone was, in a sense, worthless in their own mind. And you couldn't trust anyone. No one was good. -Vince Staples
Jai Los Angeles, CA
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I walked out of the California State Prison after serving 6 years for aggravated assault with a deadly weapon after breaking my parole. I felt like a free man. I walked up to my brother dapping him as he pulled me into a hug. "Wassup, baby? How does it feel to be out?"
"Sensational," I said with a cheesy smile. "I'd feel even better with some food in my stomach. I know mama is at the house throwin' down."
"Hell yeah!"
"Well, what are we waiting on? Let's go then," I said getting in the passenger seat.
After the drive to Long Beach we pulled up in front of my mother's house. I got out of the car as my brother yelled, "Jai's home!" as we walked through the gate. I saw the front door open then my other brother roll out in his wheelchair. As he rolled down the ramp my heart hurt having to see him like this. Even more so because I couldn't do anything to the person who did this to him. I lowered down some, so I could hug my younger brother, Gee. We pulled apart and I dapped him.
"Glad to have you back," he said smiling.
"Glad to be back. I can finally handle that nigga who did this to you," I said rubbing my hands together.
"I told you don't worry about it. We don't need you locked up again. I didn't die, so it's cool."
"Cool? You can't walk, Gee. EVER! He's gotta pay in blood for that."
"I may not be able to walk, but I can breathe. Marcel is nobody to fuck with. Leave it alone, aiight?" He turned his chair around going back up the ramp as I looked at my brother.
"Why's he acting so scared of this dude? He can't be that bad." My brother just shrugged. "Well, where this nigga be at? What's his name?"
"Marcellus Young. I heard he's not in the gang anymore and even moved outta Long Beach. A couple of people want his head, but he's still walking around. He occasionally comes to Long Beach, just certain areas. Areas he knows he'll be safe in."
"Well, we need to find out where he hangs at around here. He's gonna get seen and dealt with as long as I'm out," I said stroking my goatee going into the house.
Matika Long Beach, CA
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