“Unh, unh, don’t even move, mothafucka, or I swear before God and Heaven, I’ma leave yo’ black ass on the same corner you slangin’ yo dope on! Put cho hands up, put cho gotdamn hands up, now!” Moochie commanded.
“Yo’, ma, what the f**k you want?” the D-boy asked as he held his hands up. Moochie looked him dead in his eyes and pressed the cold barrel of the Colt against the side of his nose.
“Every-mothafucking-thang!” she told him with a pair of cold eyes. Still holding her .45 to the side of homeboy’s snout, Moochie went about the task of relieving him of all the dope he had on him. Once she pocketed the drugs, she searched his pockets for any money he may have on him.
While Moochie was going through the D-boy’s pockets, he focused his attention on the chamber of the revolver. He notic
