Read Online Knee Deep in the Game by Boston George - Free Book Online
Authors: Boston George
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she violently smacked Pop across his face, causing his hat to fly off.
âFuck you do that for?â Pop yelled, ready to steal on his moms.
âYou lucky thatâs all I did, now let me borrow ten dollars,â Teresa said with her hand out.
âNah, I ainât got it,â Pop said, refusing to support his motherâs bad habits.
âWhy you lying for?â Teresa said loudly. âYou think I donât know you out here selling drugs?â
âFuck is you talking about?â Pop said with a disgusted look on his face. âI donât sell drugs.â
âYes, you do,â Teresa snapped. âHow else would you be able to get all those new fancy clothes you be wearing?â
âWhatever,â Pop said, shaking his head from side to side. âYou think you know everything, but you donât know shit.â
âMy bad, Pop, I didnât know that this was your mother,â Nika said, feeling horrible inside. âIâm going home. Holla at me later. Iâm sorry again,â she said headed in the opposite direction.
âYou always coming around with that bullshit, thatâs why I donât fuck witâ you like that,â Pop said heatedly, pointing his finger at his mother.
âYou better get your muâfuckinâ hand out my face before I break it,â Teresa said with attitude, and placing her hands on her hips. âYeah, you care more about that chickenhead than you care about your own mother.â
âYo, Iâm out,â Pop said as he walked off, leaving his mother standing there.
âGo ahead and chase that bitch, you wonât give your own mother no money, but I bet you giving that bitch all your money, stupid ass. And you better not even think about bringing your black ass home tonight either,â Teresa yelled, angry that Pop wouldnât give her no money.
âIâm sick of this bitch,â Pop said to himself as he walked off. No matter what he did it was never good enough for his mother. He hated the fact that anytime she had a problem she took her anger out on him. There was no pleasing her, so Pop decided to stop trying.
Chapter Six
âYeah, pull up right next to that nigga, Shawn,â Fresh ordered, pointing in Shawnâs direction.
âYo, Iâm going to take this nigga in the building. Wait five minutes before you come in,â Fresh instructed as he hopped out of the car.
âMy nigga, Shawn, whatâs good?â Fresh asked.
âYou tell me, brother,â Shawn shot back, trying to sound tough.
âYo, Bamboo said you had something for me,â Fresh said in a smooth, low-key tone.
âNah, he ainât tell me no shit like that,â Shawn said, pulling out his cell phone to verify what Fresh was saying.
âKeep your fuckinâ hands where I can see them,â Fresh said, placing his 9 mm to Shawnâs ribs.
âOh, itâs like that? What you going to do when Bamboo finds out about this?â Shawn asked, angry that he had gotten caught slipping.
âFuck Bamboo, I donât deal with problemsâI make them,â Fresh said, leading Shawn into the building.
âYâall still keep the work on the fourth floor, right?â Fresh asked.
âFuck you, Fresh, you going to have to kill me mu âfucka,â Shawn said, wondering should he reach for the .22 that rested in his back pocket.
Before Shawn could make his move, Rusty walked in the building.
âWhatâs good?â Rusty asked, holding his shotgun.
âThis clown wants to be a tough guy,â Fresh replied with a smirk on his face.
Without hesitation Rusty let the shotgun bark, sending Shawn skidding down the hallway.
âYo, grab that work from the fourth floor so we can be out,â Fresh ordered.
âNothing personal, baby, just business,â Fresh said, looking down at Shawnâs dead body. Fresh quickly searched the dead manâs pocket and stripped
âFuck you do that for?â Pop yelled, ready to steal on his moms.
âYou lucky thatâs all I did, now let me borrow ten dollars,â Teresa said with her hand out.
âNah, I ainât got it,â Pop said, refusing to support his motherâs bad habits.
âWhy you lying for?â Teresa said loudly. âYou think I donât know you out here selling drugs?â
âFuck is you talking about?â Pop said with a disgusted look on his face. âI donât sell drugs.â
âYes, you do,â Teresa snapped. âHow else would you be able to get all those new fancy clothes you be wearing?â
âWhatever,â Pop said, shaking his head from side to side. âYou think you know everything, but you donât know shit.â
âMy bad, Pop, I didnât know that this was your mother,â Nika said, feeling horrible inside. âIâm going home. Holla at me later. Iâm sorry again,â she said headed in the opposite direction.
âYou always coming around with that bullshit, thatâs why I donât fuck witâ you like that,â Pop said heatedly, pointing his finger at his mother.
âYou better get your muâfuckinâ hand out my face before I break it,â Teresa said with attitude, and placing her hands on her hips. âYeah, you care more about that chickenhead than you care about your own mother.â
âYo, Iâm out,â Pop said as he walked off, leaving his mother standing there.
âGo ahead and chase that bitch, you wonât give your own mother no money, but I bet you giving that bitch all your money, stupid ass. And you better not even think about bringing your black ass home tonight either,â Teresa yelled, angry that Pop wouldnât give her no money.
âIâm sick of this bitch,â Pop said to himself as he walked off. No matter what he did it was never good enough for his mother. He hated the fact that anytime she had a problem she took her anger out on him. There was no pleasing her, so Pop decided to stop trying.
Chapter Six
âYeah, pull up right next to that nigga, Shawn,â Fresh ordered, pointing in Shawnâs direction.
âYo, Iâm going to take this nigga in the building. Wait five minutes before you come in,â Fresh instructed as he hopped out of the car.
âMy nigga, Shawn, whatâs good?â Fresh asked.
âYou tell me, brother,â Shawn shot back, trying to sound tough.
âYo, Bamboo said you had something for me,â Fresh said in a smooth, low-key tone.
âNah, he ainât tell me no shit like that,â Shawn said, pulling out his cell phone to verify what Fresh was saying.
âKeep your fuckinâ hands where I can see them,â Fresh said, placing his 9 mm to Shawnâs ribs.
âOh, itâs like that? What you going to do when Bamboo finds out about this?â Shawn asked, angry that he had gotten caught slipping.
âFuck Bamboo, I donât deal with problemsâI make them,â Fresh said, leading Shawn into the building.
âYâall still keep the work on the fourth floor, right?â Fresh asked.
âFuck you, Fresh, you going to have to kill me mu âfucka,â Shawn said, wondering should he reach for the .22 that rested in his back pocket.
Before Shawn could make his move, Rusty walked in the building.
âWhatâs good?â Rusty asked, holding his shotgun.
âThis clown wants to be a tough guy,â Fresh replied with a smirk on his face.
Without hesitation Rusty let the shotgun bark, sending Shawn skidding down the hallway.
âYo, grab that work from the fourth floor so we can be out,â Fresh ordered.
âNothing personal, baby, just business,â Fresh said, looking down at Shawnâs dead body. Fresh quickly searched the dead manâs pocket and stripped
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