The Streets Don't Love Nobody

Chapter One-2

Flocka narrowed his eyes and peered closer through the windshield. “Yo’, ain’t that lil’ momma that lives next door to you? What’s her name? Shanea or some s**t?” he took a quick glance at Menace.

“Shatira,” he corrected him as he chuckled and shook his head.

“Yeah, that’s right, Shatira. Baby is stacked like a mothafucka, boyyy. Goddddamn!” he made an ugly face seeing Shatira walk up the block beside her friend, switching from left to right. Her ass looked like she was concealing two basketballs inside of her black Capri pants. She was in a white baby T-shirt with Princess emblazoned across it. Her enormous breasts made the Princess look like it was 3D. Her long wavy hair was pulled back in a bun and a Chinese bang hung over her forehead, giving shade to her almond shaped eyes. Her rich chocolate skin was damn near flawless, save for a few acne scars she’d gotten from puberty. “Yo’, you hittin’ that yet, my nigga?”

“Gone, man,” Menace looked away smiling, dimples dominant in his cheeks. The truth was he was feeling Shatira, but he had yet to step to her. He flirted with her here and there but that was it.

“Aww, man, I can’t believe you. She stay next door, you ‘pose to be wearin’ that ass out. Especially with all of this paper we gettin’. Shiiiit, name a b***h out here that ain’t tryna f**k with us. You feel me?”

“Yeah, I feel you.”

Flocka nodded to the windshield at old girl that was walking next to Shatira, which prompted Menace to look. She was in a wife beater and Daisy Dukes, with the pockets hanging out of the bottoms of them. She had on a pair of blue Chuck Taylors without socks. “Who is that with her?”

“Her homegirl, Cee Cee,” Menace answered him, staring through the windshield at Shatira’s friend now. She had a walnut complexion and her hair was braided into pig tails on either side. There had Bamboo earrings in her lobes that spelled out her name, Cee Cee, and a diamond nose stud in her right nostril. Baby girl had a ghetto s*x appeal that had niggaz checking for her all day every day.

“That lil’ b***h bad, too.”

“Oh, fa sho’.”

“I’m tryna f**k that lil’ b***h Cee Cee, I’ma pull up.” Flocka mashed the gas pedal and his hood classic ripped up the street, sitting high up off the ground on its four rims.

***

“Girl, it’s hot as a b***h out here.” Cee Cee said, wiping her shiny forehead with the back of her hand and then fanning her face. “I wish the sun would give a b***h a break.”

Cee Cee was a military brat. Her family moved from Florida, to Connecticut, to Nebraska, before finally settling in Los Angeles, where she attended Jefferson high school. Cee Cee’s father wanted his daughter to know how to defend herself so he taught her how to box and properly fire a variety of firearms. The girl could handle herself quite well, so a lot of chicks didn’t f**k with her.

“Who you telling? I’m thirsty as a mug, shoot. I can’t wait to get up in this house to get me something to drink.” Shatira used the end of her shirt to wipe off her glistening face.

“Yo’, what’s up with ol’ boy I saw yo’ next door neighbor talking to the other day?”

“Who?” she frowned, curious as to whom her homegirl was talking about.

“Homeboy with all of jewels on and s**t, he was pushing an all red old school. A low rider, I think.”

“Oh, I think that’s his friend Flocka.”

“Well, Flocka is fiiine, and he looks like he’s paid from what I see. Now, I normally don’t f**k with niggaz unless they pushing something that’s around this year, but he’ll get a pass since his ass is so fine.” She said as she looked over her French Tip manicured nails.

“Ooooh, yo’ hoe ass is conceited, b***h, how you know he won’t chu?” Shatira smirked.

“b***h, be serious, who don’t won’t me?” Cee Cee curled her finger up in one of her pigtails, “Niggaz stay checking for a b***h but they don’t get the time of day ‘less they willing to pay to play, ya feel me?” she chuckled and held out her fist for dap.

Shatira dapped her right-hand girl up and said, “I feel you, but I don’t get down like that. See, I’m saving myself for my one and only.” she batted her eyelashes and a big, beautiful smile spread across her face, showcasing her pearly white teeth. Although she was only seventeen- years-old, she saw herself being with one man and one man only, for the rest of her life. She wasn’t going to be out there in the streets like a lot of girls she knew, busting it wide open for dope boys, just because they was pushing something fly and playing with a couple of dollars. Nah, she wanted to meet someone, date, fall in love, get married and have children. You know, the old fashion way, like the older folks?

“I ain’t mad at cha, sis. We all gotta dream, and ain’t nothing wrong with that.”

Hearing George Clinton’s Atomic Dog, the girls heads whipped around and they found Flocka’s old school Chevy speeding down the street. The throwback vehicle came to a halt beside them alongside the curb. Seeing Shatira from the passenger side, Menace threw his head back at her like, What’s up? And she blushed and smiled, looking away, shyly. Right after, Menace and Flocka hopped out of the ‘64, approaching the ladies, confidently. Cee Cee eyed Flocka seductively and twisted her French Tip nail at the corner of her teeth, enticing him. He shot her a sexy ass grin and threw his head back, pulling his sagging Levi’s upon his waistline.

“Yo’, Tira, come here for a minute!” Menace motioned for Shatira to come to him as he advanced in her direction, smiling. You could tell that they were feeling one another on some level, because they were both smiling as hard as they ever had when they saw each other. Although Shatira tried her best to hide it, she was self conscious whenever she was around the young gangsta. She stood still while trying to figure out whether she should go over to him or continue on her way home. As she was trying to make up her mind, Cee Cee nudged her in Menace’s direction, making up her mind for her.

“What’s up?” she blushed harder, looking down at her feet and then back up at Menace. She then hoisted the brown paper bag up under her arm, trying to get a good hold of it.

Standing in front of Menace and Flocka, Shatira could tell that they were getting money by their attire and how they carried themselves. They were fresh to death and their jewels were icy. In fact, their jewels were so icy that she and Cee Cee had to squint their eyes from the sunlight deflecting off of them creating blinding glares.

“What’s up with chu, slim? Where you running off to?” Menace asked.

“I just left my homegirl’s house; I’m headed to my crib now.” Shatira said.

“Oh, okay, I was going to see if you wanted to hang out with me for a while, but I see that chu busy. How about this? You take my number down and we can get up once you have some free time.”

Shatira didn’t know what to say because she had always had a crush on Menace, but she never thought that he would show any interest in her. She turned to see what Cee Cee thought, but she was in her own world, getting acquainted with Menace’s boy, Flocka. Menace noticed that Shatira seemed unsure so he grabbed her hand and walked her away from the group so that they could be alone.

“’Sup, ma? You seem a lil’ nervous.” he cracked a sexy grin and licked his lips, massaging the shallow goatee that outlined his mouth.

“Umm, I’m not that nervous.” She looked away shyly, her chocolate cheeks turning red.

“Okay, well, look, I’m not tryna hold you up. I know you probably got s**t to do, so how about you take down my number and we’ll chop it up whenever you get a minute.”

“Actually, I don’t have a cell right now.”

Menace was shocked that someone her age wouldn’t have a cell phone of her own. He reached into his pocket and handed her one of the IPhones that he had in his pocket. He had one cell phone for street business and one for personal use. He let little momma hold his personal joint. He wasn’t f*****g with any other chicks then, so he wasn’t worried about anyone hitting him up on it. Besides, any of his homies or family that hit him up on his personal cellular would hit his business phone. That was if it was really important. Niggas knew better than to be banging his business line if it wasn’t life or death.

“Here take this. You can have this phone, and don’t worry about paying the bill. I got it faded.”

“Okay. Thanks, Jeremy.” She smiled, sliding the cellular into his back pocket.

Menace’s forehead wrinkled and he gave her the side eye. “Jeremy? You calling outta nigga’s government and shit.”

“Oops, my bad, it’s Menace now, right?” she smiled harder.

“Yep. That’s what the streets calling my boy.” Flocka interjected, coming from out of nowhere and throwing his arm around his homeboy’s shoulders. He was holding his cellular phone in his other hand. He was in the middle of programming Cee Cee’s number into it before he threw himself into Shatira and Menace’s conversation. “He damn sure earned it. My ace done put in crazy work.”

“Chill, my nigga,” Menace gave him a stern look and a little nudge. He didn’t want him putting his business out there in the streets. What he had done in the concrete jungle was between him and whoever he had done it with.

“My bad, bruh,” Flocka said. He then turned to Cee Cee. “Yo’, slim, what’s the last numbers of yo’ math?” he finished punching in the digits that she’d given him and stashed his cellular inside of his pocket. “Alright, I’ma holla, maybe we can get together and paint the town red. You feel me?”

“That’s what’s up.” Cee Cee smiled, her thumb caressing Flocka’s Jesus head medallion as she held it in her manicured hand. Her thirsty ass couldn’t help wondering how much it cost and how much the young nigga was holding.

“All right then, show a brother some love.” Flocka held open his arms and she threw her arms around him, staring into his eyes lovingly. To Shatira and Menace’s surprise, she kissed Flocka hard, deep and lustfully, as he cupped her bodacious ass. When they pulled away, she wiped the corners of her mouth having gotten some of his saliva around her lips. He wiped his lips with the back of his jeweled hand and eyed her hungrily, smacking her on her ample bottom as she walked over to stand on the sidewalk and wait on Shatira.

“Well, I guess I’ll talk to you later. Bye.” Shatira waved goodbye to Menace.

“All right, later,” Menace threw up the duces. He then started to head back to the Chevy beside Flocka.

Shatira and Cee Cee went on about their business, passing up children that were in the streets playing around. A few of them looked alive when they saw the young men headed back to the Chevy Impala.

“Aye, that’s Menace and Flocka!” one of the ghetto children called out to the others.

“That ain’t them, stupid!” another one of the ghetto children responded.

“Wait, that is them!” a third child said, confirming it.

“Aye, hey, hey, yo’!” the children called out different things.

The children came together and waved at them. They loved Flocka and Menace because anytime that they’d see them they’d give them money and/or buy them something off the ice cream truck.

Flocka and Menace turned around. Seeing that he had the children’s undivided attention, and that this was the perfect time for him to stunt in front of Cee Cee, Flocka pulled out a wad of money and removed the rubber band on it that held it together.

“Y’all lil’ niggaz come here, so I can spread the wealth. Y’all come here.” Flocka waved the ghetto children over and they took off running in his direction, swarming him and his right-hand man like lotuses.

Cee Cee stopped down the block and waved at Flocka, smiling. He threw his head back and gifted her with a smile before passing out some money to the kids surrounding him.

Yeah, that nigga getting to the money, and once I put this p***y on him, he gone be as sprung as a chicken. Cluck! Cluck! Cluck! Hahahahaha, Cee Cee laughed to herself and continued on down the block beside her sister from another mister.

Once Flocka was done stunting and fronting, he and Menace hopped back inside of the Impala. As soon as Flocka cranked his big boy toy up, he took off down the block, hitting switches in the old school Chevy.

“Where we off to now?” Menace inquired. His hand was resting on the window pane and the wind that was rushing inside of the car was ruffling his clothing.

“Where we were supposed to have been going before we got caught up with them broads.” Flocka answered as he turned the volume up on the George Clinton song.