that night telling me to link up with him at the park, I already knew that what Kennedy and I did had come to light. Kennedy’s loyalty has always been with that nigga, and I knew the way her ass thought, so I knew that it was only a matter of time before she told on her damn self. She couldn’t keep secrets from that nigga at all, so I’m low key surprised that she waited this long to say something.
Being that I felt highly disrespected that Mustafa would put a damn bounty on my head, I sent him a picture to his phone, but I made sure to text him from a text app so that he couldn’t trace my number. Again, I wasn’t a rookie to this shit, so I wasn’t about to let him catch me slipping. The night that I ran into Paris and Kennedy while I was at dinner, I snapped a picture of Kennedy when she wasn’t looking. I made it seem like I was playing on my phone, but I knew that this picture would one day come in handy. I wanted him to know that I could still have his bitch if I wanted to. Although that may not be technically true, that was the message that I would portray by sending him the picture.
If something were to happen to Mustafa today, I knew in my heart that Kennedy would come running my way tomorrow because I was the second realist nigga she knew. Plus, I fucked her too good that day for her to not come running back. On my grandma, I had her screaming the shit out of my name that day, telling me she felt my dick in her stomach. Speaking of my grandma, I just had to move her and I into an apartment out in Wynwood because I knew Mustafa was running on his feelings right now and would probably go after her. This game didn’t love anybody, so I knew that he would do anything to get me out of hiding.
If he did some spiteful shit like that, I would literally have nothing to lose, and I swear I would kill every single one of his kids, just like they did Joy. The thing about this beef with Mustafa and I is that both of us knew the game. We knew how to shoot, and we knew how not to get caught slipping. One of us was going to die, but the way he and I were trained, both of us might just die. I’d just finished sending him the picture of his bitch, and then I sent another text message out to this chick, Alani, who I known for years now. Truthfully, that bitch was going to make me break her fuckin’ neck for playing with my damn money.
Let me clear it up because I know a lot of you may be confused.
Alani isn’t a saint, just know that. There’s no denying that Alani is beautiful as hell, and her beauty used to come in handy for a nigga. Back then, aside from hustling, I was robbing niggas too. I would have Alani go out, reel a nigga in who she felt had money, and once