Signed to The Streets [UPDATED]

chapter nine

SIGNED TO THE STREETS

"you do the job, i pay the tab, we eatin. Bitch
tryna get flewed out for the weekend. We stayin' over, I'm on mine, no sleepin"

-Lil baby

FLEWED OUT

||BROOKLYN, NY||

"Yeah, I got the bag. It's all there." She lied. What the hell was she supposed to tell him? 'Oh, the dope got snatched during a shoot out and not to mention the nigga I made the drop to almost successfully robbed me out my shit my first day back in the city, and I'll just assume he had something to do with my car getting shot the fuck up. Don't worry, I'll get it back'. Yeah fucking right.

Trusted partnership or not. Rico would bust Mikhails ass about India. Years of making money together with a balanced relationship outside of business meant nothing when it came to India.

If he knew about the events that occurred recently then Mikhail would be slumped over on Slauson with his fucking throat slit open before he even seen it coming. India decided on keeping her mouth shut about everything that's been going on. She guessed she'd spare Mikhail for now but get her lick back later.

"Good. That's good. A'ight, now I need you to get that shit to me in 48 hours. Ion need no later than that, you hear me?" Rico said over the phone.

48 hours to deliver a bag that's not even in my possession? Fuck, India thought to herself. Once promised to have the bag in his possession before time she hung up the phone. She hopped back into the passenger seat of Mikhails whip hoping he had a plan ready to score.
      She informed him on the information that Rico had just stated before and luckily he had some moves already being made.

"So wassup?" She asked curiously. "I just sent two shorties to go walk down on the nigga. Once they get 'em out the way and make sure its all there, they gone bring me the shit, you gone get what you came for and its all gone be good. After I get Rico his shit and he pay me, I'll pay you then we can forget this shit even happened." He was just ready to get this shit done and over with. Plus he didn't feel like getting his hands dirty so he thought it'll be light work to send his shorties that way.

They had been into it with the Jamaicans on the block over for a while now. One of their main rivals. Some years back is when all the beef started.
        It's funny how one small argument over literally nothing can start a whole treacherous war. The streets around that way was good up until that early boiling summer morning.

Juice was one of Mikhails youngest workers. 15 working his corners every night and day like he had bills to pay. He was one of those shorties who had a clear vision of his future, he knew what he wanted at a young age. It was niggas who he wanted to be like and niggas he didn't wanna end up like. Mikhail was one of the niggas he wanted to grow up like.