Backstage: Street Chronicles (2 page)

“What the hell you mean? That’s all I know how to do.” My face twisted up like the nigga had shit on his face or he was speaking foreign.

He said, “Then get your doodie ass and let it do what it do. Talking to me like I’m a nothing-ass nigga. This ain’t yo daddy.”

“Who the hell you think you talking to? Nigga if it wadn’t for me yo mama would still be selling fish sandwiches out her house to pay her seventeen dollars a month rent that she stay being late on, hollering it’s hard times.”

Ziggy usually would go on and give me what I wanted: ammunition. That’s how we did before every show, straight shit-talked. I always wanted him there. Anybody else—like my nigga, Bone, or my bitch, Kai—would come with that gay-ass shit like “Let it do what it do.” And that’s cool, but why did “I love you,” always have
to follow? I ain’t singing R&B, I be coming with that gangsta rap. By no means did I want that soft shit before a show. I grew up with Ziggy, and he could destroy someone’s self-esteem—have you round here ready to kill ya self.
BOOM!

I stood onstage and my eyes zoomed on Winky who was in VIP where I knew he’d be. His face seemed different tonight. He looked like he had something on his mind, but who don’t? I was so high that I could have stood there in a zone and tried to figure out what’s wrong with ole boy, but I caught myself, even though the weed that I had been blowing was so good that I could have forgot all about the crowd that paid fifty and better to see me and some other cat.

The crowd went bananas. I did eight of my best songs and walked the stage just like a man. And I had lyrics like a man, but I was too beautiful and feminine to reach down and shift balls that were without question not there. I walked in my heels like they were a pair of Air Force Ones. The iced-out hand medallion around my neck revealed a middle finger that swung like “fuck you, fuck you, and fuck you, too!” The world wasn’t ready for me. BET had seen a few imposter broads claiming they were ‘bout the business but there were always rumors they had ghostwriters. Their careers flashed so quickly that they were invisible just like their writers leaving you with thoughts of a Boost Mobile:
Where you at?
Me … I was too serious about this to be a memory.

I walked to my dressing room with an entourage like a heavyweight champion. They were screaming my name, “Yummie! Yummie!” My face softened like an R&B singer. Oooh! I loved
that! I closed the door behind me and found my room flooded with roses. You would think I had a bunch of admirers but that wasn’t the case. I only had two who competed with each other for my love. Male and Female. Bone and Kai.

I smiled without bothering to read their deepest feelings on the little itty-bitty pieces of paper that accompanied the flowers although I was curious about who had won by sending the most. But there were too many bouquets, and they all looked alike. After all, roses are roses.

Winky had abandoned the VIP and was now in my dressing room. He was a big light-skinned dough boy. There was nothing sexy about him, not even his smile—his teeth were stacked on top of one another showing every bit of his thirty-two teeth.

“Yummie, your lyrics are getting tighter and tighter. Most rappers rappin’ another niggas’ lifestyle. Not you, Yummie.”

I stood proud like, “Yep, that’s me.”

“You say what you mean and mean what you say, Yummie. What they don’t know, Yummie, is that you really putting dope in ya city.” He chuckled.

I looked at him, but I ain’t say shit, trying to figure out what the fuck was wrong with him.

“Huh, Yummie?” He turned around to unzip a bag as he sang words to my song.
“I’m putting dope in my city. I’m too shitty to be confused with an …”

“Winky, what you doing, and why the fuck you keep saying my name?”

He turned around with one brown-wrapped kilo brick of pure cocaine in his hand and more where that came from. “What you talking about, Yummie?” Like he had no clue whatsoever.

“What is you doing?”

He looked at the brick. “I’m bringing your stuff.”

“Huh?”

“Your dope.”

Maybe it was the beads of sweat on his forehead in a well air-conditioned
room, or the bricks of cocaine in my dressing room, or the repetition of my name … but something made me come to the conclusion that something wasn’t right. People think when you high it hinders your judgment, but a scientist who probably never smoked a day in his life came up with that theory. From a weed junkie’s point of view, you think better.

I looked around for hidden cameras but I couldn’t see shit but a bunch of damn roses. He noticed me looking around and he started looking like, “Is this a setup?”

“Winky, I don’t know what you talking about, Winky. And what you doing with that dope, Winky?” I was calling his name as many times as he called mine. Saying it loud enough for the hidden cameras if there were any to hear me and set the record straight.

“Yummie, me and Chanae got into it,” Winky explained. “She went on one ‘cause she found out me and Catrina still messing around. You know they stay beefing. So I packed all my shit and I couldn’t keep this there.”

I knew both of them broads and knew it had to be only money ‘cause no dick in this world was that good to make you fight over Winky’s ugly ass. To each his own and there is somebody for everybody. Regardless of the foolishness he had going on, he still was out of order for bringing work up there. I mean, how was I going to take a big black duffel bag of coke along with my bag of clothes out of there? I’m a celebrity with fans, and some of them stayed around afterward with high hopes and expectations just to see me.

I took a deep breath, exhaled, and walked to the bag counting each kilo to myself. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5 … “Gimmie my shit,” I said as I snatched the one out of his hand. “Twenty.”

I zipped up the bag and started to put it under my vanity set when the door flew off the hinges. The noise scared me more than anything. I love my fans, Lord knows I do, but sometimes they could be so persistent. They seemed to be everywhere. You couldn’t eat or shit. That was the price you paid for being famous.
But it wasn’t my fans this time. FBI, baby. They handcuffed me and stinking-ass Winky.

The newspapers, TV, and magazines had a field day with me. They painted a picture of this greedy female drug dealer/rap star who had it all yet wanted more. What did they know? Since I had been with Hym8nenz (High Maintenance) Records, I had not received one royalty check. I had signed a fucked-up contract. How was I supposed to know the videos and studio time and limo rides came out of my money? I thought the record company got it like that. Why not cater to your stars? Contract? All I remember is the pen and the million dollars. The money I did receive seemed like a fortune at first but it slipped through my hands just like water. I only sold drugs to maintain my rich and famous lifestyle. What sense did it make to be pushing a Continental GTC Bentley and you pulling up in a McDonald’s drive-thru scraping up change for a number ten?
Humph!
Sound like a damn fool.

Yet, I thanked God every day for allowing me the opportunity to get my music heard nationwide. So I really couldn’t complain, and even if I did, who cared? Everybody goes through the struggle and everybody gets pimped. It’s a part of life. Sheet! Not for long. Not my life. And that’s a promise.

Hym8nenz be bullshitting but they did come through with a mad lawyer. He wasted no time and I was out in less than forty-eight hours on pretrial since I had no priors. Only familiar face in the courthouse was Kai, which was no surprise to me. Bone had seen the inside of a courthouse enough to last him a lifetime, and I respected that.

Kai had this worried look on her face like she was straining to take a dump. You would think I was facing double life with no parole. Kai was beautiful inside and out. Sometimes she could be a little dramatic and we would clash. How can I play my role if she playing hers? But that’s a woman for you, so what should I expect?

Kai was just as feminine as me. I didn’t want a stud. Never saw the point. Why have an imitation of a man when you can have the
real deal? And I had one of them, too. They knew about each other and they hated loving me the way they did.

“You want your cake and eat it, too,” is all they would say. Does that make sense? You damn right I’m gonna eat my cake. It’s mine. What else am I supposed to do? What I loved about the both of them is they would try so hard to make me see that their gender is where I belonged.

Bone would eat my pussy trying to prove a point each time and he did; he proved that he could never eat me better than Kai.

As for Kai, no matter how wet that mouth of hers got she still didn’t have shit to stick in me when I would holler “just stick it in” in the heat of the moment. A few times I saw the bitch looking around the room with my pussy still in her mouth for anything to penetrate this hot pussy of mine. I erased those thoughts quickly by pulling that bitch by the hair as hard as I could. “Bitch, I wish you would.” She wasted her money on dildos and strap-ons that I would never use. I kept telling her I got a sensitive pussy. Only thing going in me is dick and tongue … She got hot every time. It is what it is.

As soon as I got home all I wanted to do was scrub the jail smell off of me. Kai jumped in the shower with me. I really didn’t want her there. She hadn’t done anything wrong, but I had been around females for two days and I didn’t want to see no more ass and titties. I wanted to be in the presence of a good, cologne-smelling, dick rock-hard nigga. I usually don’t bite my tongue; my first thoughts roll out my mouth. Maybe the two days had me feeling a little soft ‘cause I let her mess her freshly done hairdo up by keeping her mouth on my pussy while the water poured on her head. I felt like I was going to faint and drop to my knees where she was. She ate me like she loved me, which she do. She ate me like she missed me, which she did. She ate me like I’m going to spend the rest of the night with her, which (oh my goodness!) I’m not!

After she finally left I drove straight to Bone’s house. As soon
as I walked in I wanted dick on my breath. I wanted to suck his dick and swallow it like a raw oyster.
Gulp
. He had plans of his own. He held me in his arms like I had been in Iraq. Welcome home. He pushed me on the couch—that’s what I’m talking about. He pulled my dress up. Oooh! He ripped my panties off. Whooo! He peeled off his wifebeater. Umm! Umm! Umm! He dropped his boxers. Look at him. He got on top of me and started to eat me. Uh-uh! I pulled his head up. He looked disappointed. Shiiit, so was I. People know your role.

He got off me and walked his naked ass to the bedroom. I laid there for a hot second before following him. He lay back staring at TV … His dick was playing sleep, shriveled up like a newborn baby. I wanted to be mad like, “Don’t start this shit,” but instead I smiled. He let me have my way so much, but at some point he had to man up. Um! My pussy getting wetter. I looked at the time. It read six forty-five. I looked at his dick and waited for the time to read six forty-six so I could time myself like I’m in a race. It would take less than thirty seconds for his dick to wake up in my mouth. Twenty seconds for it to reach its full potential and two minutes and ten seconds for me to quench my thirst. On your mark … get set … go!

He pulled my hair, and luckily for me I’m not tender-headed. I stroked his dick just like he jacked it. I sucked his dick like I had a passion for it. I never took my eyes off him until I knew he was about to shoot babies all down my throat. Within seconds the time came and I looked over not once taking that big black dick out my mouth and just like I said it was six forty-eight, I mean six forty-nine. I climbed on top of him to kiss him and he always kissed me afterward in the past, but this time he turned his head to avoid my mouth. I kept trying. He kept resisting. It should have pissed me off but it was turning me on like he thought I was a nothing-ass bitch who wasn’t worthy of his kisses.
Humph!
I’m crazy. Listen to the shit I say.

I was going wild trying to make him kiss me. We were like two
untamed animals in Africa. Finally, he pulled my hair down, damn near breaking my neck, and gave me a hard, nasty, wet-ass kiss. He pulled back.

“Is this what you wanted? Huh?”

I just kept kissing him.

“Answer me, bitch!”

I looked at him. This man right here did something to me. I loved when he talked shit to me and called me a bitch, but only in bed—otherwise, we got a problem. He then stuck that dick in me farther than any tongue can go. He knocked on every wall to see if anybody would come to the door and answer. Within seconds I let him know he didn’t have to knock no more and hollered, “I’m cummin!” I kept my eyes on his ‘cause there ain’t no looking at the clock with me. I can only do that shit.

From day one Bone made me forget I was this big-time celebrity who’s not making a dime. Just like now, this nigga made me forget I just got busted with twenty bricks. He made me forget my only connect ratted me out. I’m telling you, dick is a mu’fucka. Now that I’ve caught a nut, reality sunk in and all the shit I didn’t want to think about resurfaced. I used to think there was no comparison to dick but there is: weed.

“Bone, I’m gonna need you to get that money for me.” From time to time I would let him hold my money if I couldn’t get to my stash spot.

Bone replied, “I’m already knowing.”

I trusted Bone. I trusted that if you put him in a room full of at least fifty women he was gonna fuck at least two before the night was over. Five more before the week was out and fifteen before the first of the month. You can trust me on that one. When it comes to money, I can trust he’ll never touch it. He love me and I know this, and his excuse for being a fuckup is I’m not right either ‘cause I got Kai.

I must’ve waited three weeks for some dope to flood our city. Nobody had dope. Drought season. My loyal customers were calling
me like they were junkies. With each call, it had me on one like I got to have it. A want turned into a need then all of a sudden it became a must.