Hot Street

15

Michael

I stare down at the sheet of paper,
"The fuck is this?" I asked looking up at Dre.

"They're basically saying they ain't tryna pay us our money." Dre said adjusting his cap.

I nodded,
"Yea I know that but who the fuck writes a letter saying this shit?"

Dre shrugs his shoulders,
"Ion kno man but we needa do sum quick caus—

He was interrupted from my phone ringing,

"Damn Mike that's the 8th time your phone rung, who blowing up yo shii?" He said looking over at my caller ID.

"Tia? Mike I hope you ain't fuckin around with that lil girl." Dre said handing me my phone.

"Damn, nosey ass!" I said snatching my phone from his hand.

I declined her call once again and put my phone in my pocket.

"Now where were we?" I announced staring back down at the letter.

"Michael you my bro, now be real, what you doin man?" Dre asked.

"What I'm doing?" I snapped at him.

This nigga really annoying me.

"Don't get caught up with that lil girl bro, I already know what you tryna do!" He tells me.

"My guy, I know what the fuck I'm doing you don't have to tell me shit!" I yelled at him.

"Now we gon get this nigga who owes us and get our shit and be done!" I announced ripping up the letter.

"Now I gotta see what's up with Eazy I'll call you later," I said walking out.

I was so irritated at the moment, I hate when muthafuckas try to dictate what I need to do. I'm a grown ass man I know what I'm doing.

I got in my car and decided to call Tia back,

"Hello?" She answered.

"Wassup?" I said driving off.

"Why you act like you can't answer the phone?" She asked with an attitude.

"I was handling some business girl, chill." I replied.

"Are you coming back over here?" She asked.