The Path of the Righteous Man . . .
By gingermark
- 675 reads
Jay, 20, NYC:
"I 'spose y'all think I'm a dog, huh? Drug dealin' son-of-a-bitch!
Well, man, I'll tell you now I've changed, I've changed who I was and
who I am now. I'm still a brother but I'm a good brother - a real
brother. I ain't hangin' with that gang bangin', cap in your ass, ching
ching bullshit.
I got me a real crew, gang of real men who are doin' what they gotta do
to get the fuck out! I ain't bullshittin' you, man. I'm true. Men with
real heart and soul, bustin' ass for a livin' - tryin' to keep it real
and go straight
Look, I got me a workhouse, a workshop. Where the crew can come work,
see? They come here and do their thing, whatever they want. I've got a
gym for them: free weights, boxin', everythin'. We got skills goin' on
here man . . . carpentry, mechanics, electrics. Shit man - I'm
improvin' these brothers. I want a library next, see? Improve their
minds properly, teach them shit - they gotta know the real
history!
I look round here and I see the future, the future of black society.
New York is fuckin' steamin' man, too much shit here for us to drag our
black asses the fuck out! It's weighin' us down and we're fuckin'
drownin'! This is the only way out.
When they got their skills then they'll get the goddamn jobs, then
they'll see that there's more out there than they knew about, real life
- more than drugs and money. They'll see honesty and truth. If I don't
see this through then they'll only see the inside of those damn
cells.
Man, you don't ever wanna go there! My time there was fuckin' mental,
fuckin' twelve long months in that goddamn centre. The scariest, most
lonely muthafuckin' place I ever saw. I seen shit go down there that I
ain't never seen on the streets, real bad shit. Goddamn seventeen years
old, thought I knew it all, cocky chicken shit bastard really. Jailed
for dealin' crack at seventeen! Barely outta high school. Livin' in
fear man, that's what it was. Niggas goin' round just lookin' to bust
your ass. All the goddamn violence in the 'hood comes from those jails,
bad bastards let out on early parole or some other shit. Gangbangers
back in to bangin' straight away, they don't know nothing else to do!
Bring new tricks to the streets, new ways of dealin', new ways of
killin' your black ass. Jesus Christ, man.
In a tiny fuckin' cell, sharin' with a muthafuckin' maniac. In there
for killin' a 'ho with a fuckin' dog leash, then he stabbed the bitch's
mother and granpa! Fourteen inch blade, man. Tried to kill a guard with
a ping-pong bat! Crazy fuckin' crackhead.
It made me rich though. I'd been workin' the streets since I was twelve
'fore I was busted. Worked my apprenticeship in style, man. Big niggas
took me under their wing, let me hang with their crew. I did all the
runnin' and hidin' for the brothers, just like a nig fuckin' game for a
kid - out playin' all day long. Moved up to the dealin' soon after -
too small to suspect, see? Innocent kid sellin' crack? No fool of a
judge gonna believe that shit! Gee man, I was a playa when I was
twelve. They built me up to what I was: a mean little muthafucker with
gun. I was dealin' all kinds of shit, they started treatin' me like a
real brother, see? Made me feel like I had a family for real, with paps
in the County and mama in the wack house. Only had my bro' Tevin to
help me out. He was too busy with his college work to look after me, he
was buildin' himself a life. That's what these bothers gotta do, they
gotta do it for themselves. No other fucker's gonna help them.
There was no way I was gonna be anythin' but a dealer, it was my
education. I didn't read no books in school, I didn't go to school that
much - except to deal. My education was on the streets. I only got to
learn the real shit in prison - I had nothin' else to do, 'cept hang
with those crazy fuckers. I read then, I learnt about life and what it
can be if you try. I never learnt that before, I didn't need to in the
'hood. It was all makin' money - money, money, money. I had fuckin'
stacks of it, didn't use the shit, see? Saved me a fuckin' packet. What
the hell does a little kid do with that kind of dough? Fuck all - I was
savin' that shit and I got me a stockpile. Buildin' all the time,
makin' me more money. Got me a bank account and all, the cops never
even bothered to ckeck it out - got me some fake ID see? Well over a
hundred grand by the time I got busted, already had me the Lexus and
the pad was all paid for, upfront readies. So damn rich. Spent most of
it on this joint, my dream, my baby. Forty grand for the buildin',
twenty gettin' it all fixed up. Probably about eighty thousand gees by
the end. All from pushin' crack. Scary decisions, man; those we choose
in our lives - the shit we step in to.
Sometimes I look at my righteous brothers here, workin', trainin',
buildin' themselves. They all gonna be worth somethin' soon, own their
own businesses, all legal shit too. They just gotta keep at it, keep
the sweat flowin' and then we''ll be free. We got our jobs to do and we
gotta do 'em properly, we're nearly there now. Then we can stop. I
wonder if they'll ever stop, whether they can stop, whether they'll be
changed forever. It's all they've ever known, all this shit. I don't
want 'em to go back, they need to be clean.
I ain't never used the shit myself, it's for goons and fuck-ups - I
ain't never gonna be no fuck-up! I got my shit: ambition! I know what
I'm gonna be and what I'm gonna do. That crack shit robs you, man - it
steals your goddamn muthafuckin' ambition, leaves you dyin' in some
stinkin' fucked up alleyway, screaming for a hit that's just gonna fuck
you up even more!
That's the fuckin' choice you make. Easy, man, fuckin' simple.
Those goddamn crackheads always try to start some shit, swingin' with
their mitts. Screamin' at a brother, face up real close so as you can
smell their stinkin' foul breath, man. Their eyes all crazy - staring
at you like they gonna kill you for what you doin' to them, it's not me
doin' that shit. It's all them, their problem. They don't wanna get
out, they willing to stay there in the goddamn gutter and let niggas
piss on them like they was a fuckin' john! And sweat . . . Jesus, those
muthafuckers stink! It's like they ain't never heard of a shower, of
lookin' after themselves. They ain't got no self respect, and no
respect for others either. Then they tell us that they got it under
control, they could kick the shit anytime. They be bullshittin' me,
man. 'Hey, Jay, how about a little hit just for old times sake . . .
I've kicked it man, I just wanna small one. I ain't no addict, Jay,
honest I'm not.' Liars, all of them - and thieves. Steal anythin' they
get their filthy hands on. Who the hell'd want to end up like that,
man?
Jesus, I was an evil bastard to some of those dickheads, I did some
shit that'd make OJ blush. One time I had some brother owe me, lying
goddamn crackhead. Needed to teach him a lesson, we fucked him up real
bad. During recess we took him to the craft room, strapped the nigga to
the bench . . . Jesus, man. Took the goddamn electric drill . . .
through his kneecaps! All different angles, man . . . boom boom! Might
as well of shot the poor bastard - in a wheelchair now.
I see him round the 'hood still, I can't ever look. I can't, man. I
don't need to see what I did by lookin' - it's all I see in my head
some nights. I wanna tell him I'm sorry but I can't! Every goddamn
night I see his face, screamin' at me, pleadin' with me for more time,
he'd get my money! I could've listened to him, but I didn't. I didn't
want to. I was a gangbanger then, a fuckin' chief boy! I had a
reputation to uphold, keep the respect of my brothers. Fuckin' A-OK!
Bullshit! It was all bullshit, that's not where it's at. All the homies
tellin' me that we gonna be great, we gonna rule the City - they
probably will too, but I ain't gonna be no part of it . . . that
screamin' face always makes me see what that shit is. It's fear, a
goddamn empire built on fear and fuckin' crack. His eyes, cryin' out
for mercy - I destroyed his soul, left him empty.
That's why I wanna leave all that shit behind me, man. I need a new
start, a fresh viewpoint. Move away from the 'hood, somewhere that
nodody'd know me. Get a real job, make real money. I want that for my
brothers too, even if I never see their black asses again 'til my dying
day. They're better than all this shit we got here, they desrve more.
And they gonna get it. I don't wanna be no Martin Luther King, just the
best young black American I can be. Not no fuckin' nigga, kickin' up
shit on the street to get a goddamn good price for this shit! I wanna
be remembered for the good shit I do, not for gangbangin' with a load
of fuckin' goons who don't know their fuckin' dick from their goddamn
brain, they don't know the fuckin' difference . . .
But I gotta be that shit first, I need to get money for my brothers
till they get the fuck outta here; before I can escape.
You see, brother - can I call you brother? Come on, man, I have told
you all this shit! Yeah, you see, I have to do this shit now so that me
and my brothers can do our real shit in the future. I'm not gonna do
this shit forever, I just need to do it now to help keep us on top,
keep us alive. I'm not the evil fucker who be sellin' to kids, no way
man. I got me a set of regular regulars, set of guys givin' me
thousands for fuck all of the shit. They paying over the top for poor
shit! Mainly fuckin' yuppie types, tight-ass white lawyers and big fly
fuckers. They don't know what they gettin' half the time. Robbin' the
rich, see? Give to the poor - and needy.
Well, y'all, I gotta break now. Back off to the beat, those goddamn
customers are callin'. Mingle with the masses and build the future for
me and my brothers. See you later, it's been good talkin'. Remember,
just dealin' all my cards to secure my dream. Later brother."
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