D
Deleted member 7725
Kraken
- Joined
- Jun 8, 2020
- Posts
- 19,440
- Reputation
- 37,490
Some people in PMs know this, but my homeboy got a life sentence.
It started when I was only 14. I didn't fuck with gangsters, I stayed social distanced and kept to myself. But I couldn't help but rep my hood, I was born on the block. My parents had me young, we ain't really have a lot. My pops was gang banging, and I used to think about taking his spot. When I was five years old, he taught him how to aim a Glock. "Use this bitch to protect your family motherfucker" is what he told me. An empty clip, I grabbed the gun and practiced what he showed me.
All through my childhood, I was bad, but innocent. Playing basketball with my homies just running scrimmages. And when I saw the opps, we fist-fought to settle differences. Until one day, the opps got tired of getting beat up. Their big homies gave them guns like "go and light their street up". They're putting hoodies on, all black, loaded heat up. Adrenaline pumping, they can't wait until they see us.
It was a normal day on the block - fun and all smiles. But my best friend Jacob wandered off from the crowd. Took a walk to the store, headphones banging loud. Then the opps bent the corner, he ain't see them come around. When he looked up at the car, that's when them shots went, "pow". Blood oozing with his back on the ground. Vision blurry, heartbeat slowing down. Blood comin' out his mouth, feel like he starting to drown. Tires screeching, last thing he heard was that sound. "Jacob just got shot", that's what a lady screamed. Now everybody out of breath, running to the scene. Seeing Jacob on the floor, that was some shit I couldn't believe. His eyes rolling back, his auntie tryna tell him, "Breathe". Died before the paramedics came while she's crying, "Baby please".
He didn't even get to graduate because he was only 17. I cried all night, wishing that shit was just a dream. Until that pain turned into anger, time to make him bleed. Now my homie, his name was Terrence, but we called him Trey. Dark skin, he wore a mean mug with some long dreads. Used to play basketball, 6'2, he good at hawkin' people down he got long legs. Now he'll go and kill anybody that he want dead. They heard he caught his first body and that word spread. And he know how quick karma come around, but he wasn't scared. Sacrificed his soul in them streets like Illuminati. Used to go for triple doubles, now selling drugs and shooting people are his only hobbies.
Turns out, the opp was a lightskin heavy-set homie named "Rodney".
So Trey pulled up to the low, lights off, it's like one o'clock. Gripping on the silver Smith & Wesson with like 30 shots. He don't need to put one in the head, it's already cocked. Rodney heard him comin', he running before he let him fade him. It's like a demon in that man, eyes red while he chase him. Rodney having some with regrets, now he just hoping God save him. Shots to the leg, hollow tips ate him. Fell to the ground like his shoes, he ain't lace them. Trey walked up, stood over him like, "Pussy, this for Jacob". Gave him four shots to the stomach, then he faced him. Tre running to his car, Rodney bleeding on the pavement. He had untied his hoodie and they seen that on surveillance. Tryna match him to the footage, the police investigating. Plus they had his picture on the wall at the station.
A week later, they had came and grabbed him from his mama's house. Couldn't afford a lawyer in the county, fighting drama now. Said, "Fuck it, takin' it to trial", he ain't copping out. All them gang signs turned to prayer hands. Turns out, the judge gave him 79 years, now that's a lot to count.
It started when I was only 14. I didn't fuck with gangsters, I stayed social distanced and kept to myself. But I couldn't help but rep my hood, I was born on the block. My parents had me young, we ain't really have a lot. My pops was gang banging, and I used to think about taking his spot. When I was five years old, he taught him how to aim a Glock. "Use this bitch to protect your family motherfucker" is what he told me. An empty clip, I grabbed the gun and practiced what he showed me.
All through my childhood, I was bad, but innocent. Playing basketball with my homies just running scrimmages. And when I saw the opps, we fist-fought to settle differences. Until one day, the opps got tired of getting beat up. Their big homies gave them guns like "go and light their street up". They're putting hoodies on, all black, loaded heat up. Adrenaline pumping, they can't wait until they see us.
It was a normal day on the block - fun and all smiles. But my best friend Jacob wandered off from the crowd. Took a walk to the store, headphones banging loud. Then the opps bent the corner, he ain't see them come around. When he looked up at the car, that's when them shots went, "pow". Blood oozing with his back on the ground. Vision blurry, heartbeat slowing down. Blood comin' out his mouth, feel like he starting to drown. Tires screeching, last thing he heard was that sound. "Jacob just got shot", that's what a lady screamed. Now everybody out of breath, running to the scene. Seeing Jacob on the floor, that was some shit I couldn't believe. His eyes rolling back, his auntie tryna tell him, "Breathe". Died before the paramedics came while she's crying, "Baby please".
He didn't even get to graduate because he was only 17. I cried all night, wishing that shit was just a dream. Until that pain turned into anger, time to make him bleed. Now my homie, his name was Terrence, but we called him Trey. Dark skin, he wore a mean mug with some long dreads. Used to play basketball, 6'2, he good at hawkin' people down he got long legs. Now he'll go and kill anybody that he want dead. They heard he caught his first body and that word spread. And he know how quick karma come around, but he wasn't scared. Sacrificed his soul in them streets like Illuminati. Used to go for triple doubles, now selling drugs and shooting people are his only hobbies.
Turns out, the opp was a lightskin heavy-set homie named "Rodney".
So Trey pulled up to the low, lights off, it's like one o'clock. Gripping on the silver Smith & Wesson with like 30 shots. He don't need to put one in the head, it's already cocked. Rodney heard him comin', he running before he let him fade him. It's like a demon in that man, eyes red while he chase him. Rodney having some with regrets, now he just hoping God save him. Shots to the leg, hollow tips ate him. Fell to the ground like his shoes, he ain't lace them. Trey walked up, stood over him like, "Pussy, this for Jacob". Gave him four shots to the stomach, then he faced him. Tre running to his car, Rodney bleeding on the pavement. He had untied his hoodie and they seen that on surveillance. Tryna match him to the footage, the police investigating. Plus they had his picture on the wall at the station.
A week later, they had came and grabbed him from his mama's house. Couldn't afford a lawyer in the county, fighting drama now. Said, "Fuck it, takin' it to trial", he ain't copping out. All them gang signs turned to prayer hands. Turns out, the judge gave him 79 years, now that's a lot to count.
