Backstage: Street Chronicles (14 page)

“We all know who the real boss of this operation is.”

“I don’t know, son, that nigga JJ got the brand-new Tahoe, mad ice. The hood thinks he is the boss, not you.”

Trapp was deliberately pushing Dee to hate his best friend. Dee was steaming with angry thoughts about JJ. Trapp got a kick out of playing the puppet master.

“Next time JJ say some slick shit about him being the boss, I’m going to show him who the real fucking boss is,” Dee said with venom in his tone.

“That’s what I’m talking about.” Trapp was amplifying Dee’s anger.

JJ was in the booth finishing up his verse. “Yeah, that’s a wrap,” he said to the engineer.

JJ stepped out of the booth and headed toward the exit, Dee and Trapp followed him silently. Anyone could tell there was something on Dee’s mind.

Just as they reached the Tahoe, JJ stopped short. “I forgot my rhyme book. You know I can’t forget that, it’s worth millions.” JJ ran back into the studio.

“You heard what he just said. His rhyme book is worth millions,” Dee said with envy.

Trapp didn’t put any more fuel on Dee’s fire. He didn’t have to, Dee was literally fuming.

JJ ran back to the Tahoe, he noticed the mean stare that Dee was giving him. “I’m saying, what’s good with the evil stares and shit? You got something you want to get off your chest, Dee?”

“Matter of fact, I do got something I want to get off my chest.” Dee squared off with JJ before he continued to talk. “You’ve been saying some fly shit lately.”

“What you mean fly shit?”

“Don’t get it twisted, my man, I’m the boss of this operation.”

“You’re not the boss of shit. It was my product from the beginning. All you did was sell it for me.”

“Oh word, all I did was sell for you; dog, I made you. You’re my student,” Dee stated arrogantly.

“It looks like you’re the student, because I’ve been selling drugs for eighteen months and I’m already Hood Rich. You’ve been selling drugs all your life. You just mad because my stacks is up and you still a little nigga in the game,” JJ replied with more arrogance.

Those words cut deep into Dee. He wanted to punch JJ in his mouth, but he knew JJ had the 9mm on his hip.

“What, you don’t like something I said?” JJ was pushing more buttons.

“Check this out, you do your thing and I’ll do mine. Then we’ll see who the real hustler is.”

“Everybody already see who the real hustler is.” JJ held up his diamond pinkie ring that matched the diamonds in his Benny & Co. timepiece.

“We’ll see. You’ve been fronting a lot since Petey gave you that fifty thousand. That’s the only reason you got money.”

“Whatever, Dee, tell your story walking, my man.”

JJ jumped in his Tahoe and sped off. “Fuck them bum-ass nig-gas. I’ll show them who the hustler is.”

JJ was writing in his rhyme book while the youngster known as Cannon talked on and on like he was giving JJ a lecture.

“I got some shit, too, son. I did this one song over the Lil Wayne beat ‘Mr. Carter.’ I killed that shit, son,” Cannon boasted.

Cannon was only eighteen years old, five years JJ’s junior. He looked up to JJ because of his newfound hood status. JJ recruited Cannon to his team. Cannon rode on everything JJ said as if it was law.

That’s what JJ liked about having Cannon around. He knew that Cannon looked up to him, so it fed JJ’s ego. He needed his ego stroked more nowadays than ever.

After Trapp and Dee parted ways with JJ, his cash flow literally stopped. When Dee and Trapp left, they took the clientele with them. JJ didn’t know how to get new fiends, so he had product with no customers.

JJ felt he had to keep up the front until he could get his
business popping again. His new ego wouldn’t let him admit defeat.

“We’re going to take this show on the road, baby. Down south you can make more money off this shit than up here,” JJ said to young Cannon. “I’ll show that nigga Dee who the real hustler is.”

“Word, fuck that nigga Dee,” Cannon said with animosity.

JJ noticed the hate in Cannon’s tone. “Where do you know Dee from?”

Cannon paused and gave JJ a look of uneasiness. “I use to fuck with him back in the day.” Cannon cleverly switched the topic. “I heard you can make like five thousand off an ounce down there,” Cannon said with mock excitement.

“Yeah, something like that. That’s if you break the ounces down.”

JJ tried to sound like an expert. Cannon agreed with everything he said.

“Plus my album is about to be done. I’m about to pull a Jay-Z on the game. I’m about to drop an album on my own label.”

JJ looked up to Jay-Z more than any other rapper. He liked the fact that Jay-Z owned the label he rapped on.

“That’s how I’m going to make more money. I’m about to leave Dee and Trapp in the dust.”

“Word, and I’m gonna be right there with you on top, son, like BAM! We here now!”

JJ just looked at Cannon with an annoyed smirk. He often did that whenever Cannon said something he didn’t like.

“We’re going to pack up the Tahoe tonight. We’re going to Richmond, Virginia. I got family down there.” JJ grabbed a stack of his CDs that were on the table. “I’m taking real crack down there, too.” He held up his CDs.

They hid a whole kilo inside a secret compartment JJ had built into the Tahoe.

JJ went back into his apartment to see if he was forgetting anything. “I got my Guccis, my Louies, the Pradas … what am I
missing?” He looked around the room. He saw his precious rhyme book laying on the table. He contemplated taking it with him. “No, I don’t need my rhyme book. I’m not going down there to record, I’m going to get money.” He looked around once more before bouncing out the door.

Trapp and Dee sat at the table in Dee’s plush apartment smoking a blunt and bagging up crack. They were really getting money. Since they parted ways with JJ, they’d gotten more customers. They were still getting the product from Petey so it was dirt cheap.

“I’m about to show this lame who the fucking boss is. Dee is, that’s who.”

Trapp just nodded his head in agreement.

“I made three times more money since I stopped fucking with that nigga JJ.”

“Word, we’re moving a brick a week. That’s crazy,” Trapp added.

“I think I might cop a Benz next week, just to show this lame we getting it.”

Dee was starting to carry on just like JJ. He was becoming more arrogant by the day. He was reminding Trapp every day that he was getting money in the same way that JJ used to do to him.

“I’m trying to cop a big-boy whip, too, son,” Trapp said.

“If you got that big-boy whip money, do it my man. I got it.”

Trapp was offended by Dee’s statement. Dee knew that Trapp didn’t have the money for a big car. Trapp felt like Dee was putting him down by saying that.

“I’ll have it soon, watch.”

“Of course you will, if you fuck with Dee Money. I’m the nigga that made JJ Gates rich. Stick with me and you will go places.”

Trapp wanted to say something, but he knew it was best not to because he would show his true colors. Trapp was a chameleon, you never knew his real color.

“I heard JJ’s new song on the radio the other day. It’s hot,” Trapp said, knowing it would push Dee’s buttons.

“I heard that wack-ass shit. He might as well hang it up because he sounds too much like Jay-Z if you ask me.”

“I’m going to keep it official, JJ Gate’s music is hot. He might not be a good drug dealer but he is a good rapper.”

“Damn, son, what are you, his number one fan or something? Stop riding the nigga’s dick.”

“I ain’t riding nobody’s dick, son, I call it how I see it. I’m going to keep it one hundred percent no matter what.”

“Whatever, Trapp, I don’t even want to talk about that nigga. Fuck it, if you like his music, you like his music. Let’s finish bagging up this crack.”

Trapp was playing mind games with Dee. He knew the outcome of his statement about JJ’s music. He saw Dee becoming more like JJ. The more money they made, the more like JJ Dee became.

The drug game was consuming them all.

It took JJ seven hours to get to Richmond, Virginia, from Long Island, New York. He drove the speed limit all the way there.

When they arrived, JJ’s cousin Tim came out to greet them. “What’s happening, cuz? It’s been a long time,” Tim said in a thick southern drawl.

“I know, but if things go well, I’ll be here every week.”

“That’s what’s up, cuz.”

JJ wasted no time setting up shop in Richmond’s infamous Jackson Ward projects on St. Paul Street. Drugs were sold there 24 hours a day, 7 days a week.

JJ let Cannon break down four and a half ounces all in twenty-dollar rocks. He bagged up twenty thousand dollars. On the first
day he didn’t make that much money; the fiends had to get familiar with him. Once they tried his product and it was good, the word spread. By the second day Cannon had ten thousand in cash.

Cannon had never experienced making this much money this fast. He kept counting the money over and over. Cannon’s young mind became fascinated by the fast cash.

“Yo, I’ve never seen anything like this before in my life,” Cannon stated to JJ with excitement. “By the time we’re finished we both might be able to cop a Benz.”

“I doubt it.” JJ gave Cannon that look. “You’re only getting twenty percent of whatever you make, my man. Don’t get it twisted.”

JJ didn’t know it but he just crushed Cannon’s hopes. Whenever you do that to a person, you create animosity. The way Dee felt when he was with JJ is the same way that Cannon was starting to feel.

I’m doing all the work and he’s getting all the money
, Cannon thought to himself.
I know how to get down here on my own. I’ll come down here with my own work and put it in the same way I’m putting it in for this nigga JJ
.

JJ had a talent for rubbing people the wrong way lately. He wasn’t even conscious of his actions. JJ went from a good dude that was in college living a normal life, to living the life of a big-time drug dealer overnight.

The drug game was ruining his morals and integrity. He was willing to risk doing years in prison for drug money, something that he was totally against two years ago.

The pace that JJ moved at in the drug game was like when LeBron James went straight to the league from high school. JJ went from an ounce to moving keys in a matter of months, something it takes most men years to achieve.

“Tim, where is the club where it be poppin? I’m trying to meet some honeys,” JJ asked.

“Well, the Paradise Lounge is more your speed, cuz. Now, if
you want to go to a spot where them dope boys be, the Satellite Club is the spot.”

“I think I’ll do the Paradise Lounge. I’m trying to see some bad-ass VA chicks.”

Just as he spoke, a beautiful caramel brown woman got out of her car and walked into the store. She caught JJ’s eye immediately.

“Damn! Who the hell is that?” JJ asked so loud that she heard him.

“Why don’t you just ask me?” the beautiful girl said.

“What’s your name?” JJ asked in a shy tone.

“My name is Sasha. And what might your name be?” Sasha replied.

“My name is Jamal but my friends call me JJ.”

“Nice to meet you, JJ.”

“The pleasure is all mine.” JJ paused to think of his next line. “You got to have a man as pretty as you are.”

“No, because men don’t act right.”

“We don’t act right maybe because you haven’t met the right one yet.”

“Let me guess, you’re the right one.”

“Maybe. There’s only one way to find out.” JJ smiled.

Sasha returned the smile. “Well, JJ, it was nice to meet you.” She headed toward the store.

“Wait!” JJ shouted. “Can I get your number?”

She paused and looked him in his eyes. She saw something that she hadn’t seen in a man’s eyes before. She saw sincerity.

“Okay, Mr. JJ, I usually don’t give my number out but—” She reached into her Coach pocketbook and gave him one of her business cards.

JJ read the card: Sasha Cohen, Attorney-at-Law.

“You’re an attorney?”

“Yes. You said that like that’s impossible.”

“No, not at all, it’s just that it’s not every day that you meet a beautiful woman that is also intelligent.”

Sasha smiled and continued to walk into the store.

“I’m definitely calling her.”

JJ went home to get ready for the club. He put on his Gucci loafers, True Religion jeans, and a Gucci shirt that matched his loafers perfectly.

Even young Cannon got fly for the occasion. He put on a pair of aluminum-gray Prada shoes, gray Antik Denim jeans, and a gray Christian Audigier shirt.

When they entered the Paradise Lounge all eyes were on them. All the ladies were eyeing them.

JJ saw one woman in particular that caught his eye. She had a caramel-brown complexion, long black hair, hazel eyes, and the body of a goddess.

JJ couldn’t resist walking over to her for a conversation. When he reached the woman he squinted his eyes because she looked familiar. He did a double take when he saw who the woman was.

“Sasha!”

“JJ. What are you doing here?”

“The same thing that you’re doing, just having a good time before I go back to New York.”

They sat in a corner ignoring everyone else in the club. Sasha was taken aback by JJ’s smooth manner. JJ could tell that she was feeling him by the way she stared into his eyes.

They conversed for the better part of two hours. JJ felt that he knew enough to make a move on her. He leaned into her ear and whispered, “What you doing after this?”

“You tell me,” she answered in a sexy tone.

JJ told Cannon that he was leaving with Sasha. “You’re on your own, son.”

“I’m good, shorty over there with the fatty told me I’m going home with her tonight,” Cannon responded.

JJ looked over at the chocolate beauty with the roundest behind he’d ever seen. “Damn, son, she is stacked.”

“It must be something in the water down here in Virginia, because all these chicks got fattys,” Cannon stated playfully.

“I’ll see you tomorrow. We’re probably leaving then because we’ll be done, most likely.”