Kentrell|Youngboy
"Ma, where you at?" I said in a calm voice. I was in a dark parking lot, loading a mag.
"Mindin' my business. You calmed that boy down or what?" Her voice echoed through the car.
"Yeah. You got dude with you?"
"Yeah."
"Put him on the phone." There was shuffling in the background before he spoke.
"Hello?"
"Aye, this Youngboy."
"Whaddup?"
"Aye, I wanna talk to you. I needa know what happened in your eyes. My brudda...He be lying sometimes. I just gotta know." I smiled to myself as I pushed the magazine into the gun.
"Aight. So I had came in—"
"In person, nigga." I chuckled. "Must be scared or some'?"
"Hell nah, ian scared. Whea' you wanna meet?"
"I'll drop the address to my mama number."
"Aight, bet." I heard the three beeps and cocked the Glock back. I reset it and watched a casing fly.
That nigga history.
I put it in my lap and texted the address to her. When I pulled up, the car was already there. I parked close to the car and was deciding whether or not to just get out and blow his shit back...or fuck with him before I blow his shit back. I get out the car and look at the abandoned wear house and then at his car. He opened the door and stepped out. He was alone. Good. He dapped me up and leaned against his car.
"So, What happened?" I leaned back and half listened as he talked. When he got done, I leaned up.
"Oh, damn...this tragic—cause my sister just told me a different story."
"What?"
"Yeah." I kept a straight face as I pulled my heat out, pointing it at his head.
"Any last excuses?"
"Nah. See you in hell." He has a small smirk played on his face.
"Tell the devil he ain't shit compared to me." I shot him thin the head.
"Damn, this lih ting got some power." I said. I felt something against the side of my head.
Ain't this about a bitch?
"So you a killer now?" I heard a familiar voice say.
"Bitch, I been a killa. Stop cappin'." I turned around and stared down the barrel of a gun.
"Move and I'll blow yo head off."
"You must not know me, Montana. You must not know yourself...You know Ion fear no nigga or death, I'm cold hearted—and you know Yeen bout killin' a nigga." Me and Montana go way back.
He was something like an uncle, but he let money get to his head. When I got somebody else to help me with this shit, he wigged out. Before I started rapping, we was apart of the gang together. Now that these niggas know me, I only rep NBA. Fuck what they talking about.
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First Daughter-NBA Youngboy
Fanfiction"My life changed when I had my first daughter." * Aliyah's life had been flipped upside down in a matter of hours. It wasn't meant for her to be at that party. She wasn't supposed to get high, nor have sex with one of the most well known rappers in...
