Chapter Two.

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Rakim Mayers

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Rakim Mayers

I'm the type of nigga that your parents wouldn't approve of.

"Put your clothes back on." I threw Ryan her clothes to her, with a mug.

She rolled her eyes and slipped her clothes back on. Who the hell take their clothes off to give head?

"What you waitin' for? Bounce." I looked at her.

"I swear you're disrespectful as hell." She mumbled going out the door.

At the age of 17, my life is like any other nigga that grew up in Harlem. I grew up with both my parents, but at the age of 12, my father was sent to jail for drugs. That shit hit me hard, cause he was someone I looked up to.

At the age of 13, my oldest brother, Ricky died. I don't even like talking about it. It hits a soft spot.

When Ryan left, I took a shower before slipping on some gray sweat shorts, a white tee, and some 4s along with a crew neck.

"I'm going to tell you one more time, make a damn appointment." Lauren answered the phone as I walked down the stairs. Her ass never greets a nigga.

"You need to chill, lil girl," I chuckled. "You ready?"

"Yes, for whatever you got planned for today."

"Somethin' fun." I said getting in the car and starting up.

"I'm at my grandma's house."

"Oooh mama Rice, with her Asian self."

"She's not Asian." She laughed a little.

"Aight, I'll be there in a lil bit."

"Alright, don't blow either. You blow at hoes."

"Lauren, get off my phone."

"Bye." She laughed hanging up.

I shook my head as my passenger door opened. I turned my head to see Addie, getting in the car.

"The hell? How your ass get here?"

"I stay around the block, dumb ass. Take me over Laila's."

"You got some gas money?"

"Nigga, yo tank almost on full. I gotcha though."

"Fuckin' up my plans, my nigga." I changed the gear and backed out of the driveway.

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