Been thinking about it for a while. Put together the first 2 chapters today. Hasn't been edited or anything. Please give me a critique...Thanks in advance. Be gentle 
Chapter 1
The Detroit underworld, the one place that Mark felt completely in his element. Born and raised in the treacherous city that laid claim to some of the biggest hustlers, killers, corrupt politicians the world had ever seen. Today was like any other day for Mark as he gathered all of his necessary tools that would be needed to set his day in motion. Kush weed, swisher sweets cigarillos, a digital scale, small baggies, disposable gloves, a razor blade and a pint of Remy VSOP. Looking around the small living room in the sparsely furnished home, he contemplated if he should go out to the store and grab another pint before conducting his required business. As the clock was quickly approaching noon he decided that he was already behind schedule and if he needed anything more he would reach out to his right hand man Cal to grab it before he made his way to the residence for their normal meeting. He then went back to his routine that had become commonplace for the last few months. First he went to the kitchen and reached under the kitchen cabinet in his hiding place and brought out a fresh ounce of quality crack cocaine and sat it on the living room table that functioned as his makeshift workspace. He then pulled out his trusted laptop computer that he had conveniently purchased from his personal do anything fiend P for two large twenty piece rocks, even though he tried to come back later and claim that he promised him three! Dope fiends always want to get over! He then loaded up his Itunes directory and pressed play on the latest instrumental track he received from his favorite producer KR. As the beat started banging out of the monitors he had attached, which also he conveniently copped from P, he pulled out his trusted notepad for just in case the inspiration for a monster hit came to his mind. He then sat down to go to work.
Work for Mark was nothing like the average person whom got up and either put on an uniform or prepared clothes to go sit at some white person ran business for 8 hours or more making on average 10 dollars an hour to take bullshyt from some bullshyt ass manager who probably made a dollar more an hour than they did. Mark couldn’t even fathom the thought of going to a regular job and listening to some square dictate to him over the course of a day even though he had graduated high school with test scores on level with the most privileged of suburban kids and bullshytted his way through 3 semesters of community college and a tech school. As with most things with Mark all those came easy to him but without money being involved at that moment he lost interest. Now money, that interested him a lot, a WHOLE lot. Only other thing that kept his interest was his ability to conjure up vivid imagery and put pencil to pad to draw out intricate word play describing the things he witnessed in his day job and then lay out those words in his main man KR homemade studio located in his basement.
Mark finally sat down at his makeshift work desk and got started with his business. He carefully used his razorblade to chop a huge chunk out of the slab of beige rock and then weighed it on the digital scale. He then went about chopping multiple smaller rocks out of the larger chunk. He had been performing this routine for so long that he no longer needed to weight the smaller stones as he could by eye identify the sizes that would be satisfactory for Northeast 7 mile cluckers to know they getting the best deal in the area. After he finished breaking down all of the ounce into 20 dollars size boulders he then started separating the bags to get ready to shovel all the product inside, he hated this process and used to have his bytch Cathy do this until he realized she was stashing one or two for her undercover habit and he had to put foot to her ass. As he continued his work routine the constantly looping beat brought inspiration to his mind and he started freestyling in a low voice
I’m a 7 mile boss,
Destroy the game I never lost,
Flip game century 21 fukk the cost,
Disrespect we pop off,
Bustos we toss,
Made nikka to the feds we don’t talk,
My business watch your mouth,
Strike quickly like a cottonmouth,
Money mayweather right cross,
Make sure you forever close your fukking mouth
Whew!!! That shyt was hot and he quickly grabbed his pad and jotted down those lines and continued to fill out the pad until he was content he had a strong 16 bars. He would holler at his boy Mav at some point and tell him to come up with a hook since that was his specialty within their crew. Once he finished his work, and then counted his work total he then separated the bags into 3 separate sacks put 2 up for later and placed one into his duffel bag for when he was ready to roll out and hit the block. He then retreated to his bedroom and contemplated his wardrobe for the day. He didn’t feel like ironing so he choose a black and silver pair of nike sweats with matching shirt and pulled out his black and silver air Jordan 6’s. He then hopped in the shower still freestyling and then quickly got dressed.
Once dressed he took a look at the clock and saw that it was 12:10…damn he was running behind schedule! He picked up his android Galaxy, he hated them wack ass Iphones, and called his right hand man Cal.
Hello
What up Doe Cuz
Chilling…I’m about 5 minutes from yo crib.
That’s what’s up…did you bring that one thing I asked about?
You know it my dude.
Ok bet…alright I will see you when you pull up and I will head out.
Ok…one.
Mark then went about cleaning up his work area and made the final arrangements so that he could be ready when Cal pulled up and be prepared to hit the streets. After a few minutes he heard the familiar sound of the bass banging from Cal’s newer model Chevy truck. He then proceeded to grab his bag, his cartier shades and his trusty 9mm glock from under the sofa cushion and placed it snugly in the waist band of his sweatpants. He then grabbed his keys, set the alarm for the doors and exited the door.
Cal was a large framed, fair complexioned, black male with deep set eyes, and a furrowed brow that always looked like he was 2 seconds from whipping some one’s ass that you could even see behind his dark tinted cartier frames. His looks and demeanor were the perfect contrast from Mark’s short stature and dark skin and heavy waves that he always kept immaculately cut. Mark always appeared to have a smile on his face which hid his dark demeanor and quick temper. Mark quickly jumped into the passenger side of the truck and the two long time friends exchanged pleasantries and pounds.
What up doe my nikka
What’s good my nikka
You got the best hand, you tell me
You know…the same ol’ same ol’
You got that?
Cal then proceeded to reach under the driver’s seat and produced a bag containing a fresh box of 9mm shells. Mark then proceeded to pull out his pistol, take out the clip and load to capacity the shells. He then proceeded to open the custom stash spot that Cal had implanted in the Chevy and place his weapon next to Cal’s 45 automatic that EVERYONE knew he was quick to whip out and dish out street justice. They then pulled out of the small driveway and heading down the block that at one point was one of the most affluent middle class areas in the city but since drugs and corruption and a failing job market due to the departure of the big 3 automobile industry had left the neighborhood a virtual shell of itself. Cal made a left on 7 mile and they headed to their stomping grounds of John R and 7 mile. Cal proceeded to turn down the drowning bass of the blaring track coming from the expensive sound system of the upscale truck and they started talking business.
Ok Cal. I got a thousand sack already bagged. We can go through the spot and make the drop off to Lil Tim and pickup the cho from last night’s run. Lil nikka better have it ALL today or I’m going to put hands on his lil ass!
Yeah Cuz that lil nikka getting out of hand. He starting to take your kindness for weakness because he your girls lil brother. That nikka Dino told me the lil nikka be over there taking 3, 4 blowjobs a day and using our shyt to get it.
Horny lil nikka. I mean we all done turned tricks in the game but that nikka better start using his own dough to get his nut off and stop playing with me! I done told him about that shyt. He thinks it’s a game! I got about 3 mo’ lil nikkas waiting to take his place.
Yeah I told you last week to let me shake him up over that bullshyt.
Nah dog…I got him. I would never stop hearing his sister’s mouth if I let somebody other than me deal wit his ass.
I feel you dog but if you don’t do something when he fukking up then he will keep trying you further each time and the streets will start thinking you a pushover.
I feel you dog…I will handle his lil ass
Cal then proceeded to turn back up the volume and Young Jeezy’s Lose My Mind blared out the speakers as such a rate that everyone they passed turned to stare at the truck as they passed by. After about 10 minutes had passed they turned up Goldengate and pulled up to the dilapidated single family home that functioned as their current drug spot. They quickly exited the vehicle and proceeded to walk up the broken down stairs that lead to the entrance to the home. Upon hearing the vehicle pull up Lil Tim came to the door and unlocked the dead bolt and opened the guardian steel screen door to let the two hustlers inside. Once inside Mark quickly scanned the house and noticed the smell of drug smoke in the air and noticed a back room door slightly cracked and the movement of several people within it. He quickly started questioning Lil Tim.
Who the fukk is that?
That bytch Loretta and one of her tricks.
Did you make her cash out for the room?
Hell yeah.
How long she been back there?
About 20 minutes?
How much she buy?
She bought a 40.
Oh hell nah…bytch YOUR TIME IS UP! Hurry up!
Alright cash me out…How much is this?
About 680 and I got about 100 left.
nikka you had a 1000 pack!
Man these broke ass fiends around here keep coming short and they keep talking about D them up the street got better plays so I had to take what we can get.
nikka fukk them nikkas…I told you about that shyt! Tell them hoes to go to D them then! This a motherfukking business! I know damn well them nikkas shyt not bigger or better than what we offering up in here! I’m tired of you keep telling me the same ol’ shyt! Matter of fact…Hey Loretta it’s time to go! I got business on the flo and your broke ass always up in here like you paid rent up in this bytch.
Loretta opened the door and screamed back…nikka y’all not paying no rent up in here either!
Mark replied “bytch don’t worry about what the fukk we paying! It’s checkout time! Let’s go!
Loretta grudgingly collected her things and came out the room with some weird looking white cracker with eyes budging like he just hit a 1000 stone and tensed up at the sight of the 2 well dressed but deadly looking dope boys. After she exited the home from the back entrance Mark turned to Lil Tim and proceeded to berate him.
nikka you think I’m stupid don’t you.
What you talking about cuz.
nikka fukk that Cuz shyt! You think cause you Keisha’s brother that you can keep shorting me and shyt!
Nah dog it’s not like that
Mark then proceeded to reach out with his left hand and roughly slap Tim across his right cheek and then stated.
YOU THINK I’M A bytch HUH nikka.
Nah Mark it’s not like that.
Mark then proceeded to slap him with his other palm.
DO I LOOK LIKE A LAME TO YOU nikka!
Nah Mark…come on man…it’s not like that. It’s a million spots in this hood dog. I’m just trying to make sure we eating.
At that point tears came to the teenager’s face and for a brief moment Mark felt bad for the younger man. He took a quick glance at Cal who gave him a knowing nod. He quickly got back into character and proceeded to speak to the young worker.
I been telling you about this shyt too long. I know what you doing Cuz…Cal told me I should have been put you in check but I got some love for you so I been letting you slide. That shyt is over. If you want to fukk around and get your lil dikk sucked then you do it on your time cause this right here is a BUSINESS! You have NO more times to fukk up. If these motherfukkers come with shorts more than a dollar you send they ass about their way! And if they come a second time short then you don’t take it. Now stop crying like a lil bytch and Man up!
Lil Tim quickly regained his composure. Mark then proceeded to pull out the sack out his bag and sat at the table in the small living room of the spot. He then instructed Tim to sit down. Mark emptied all the contents of the bag on the table and proceeded to count them one at a time with Tim paying close attention. He then spoke to Tim in a calm manner.
As you see it’s a 1000 up in here. Call me when it gets down to less than 200 and I will come back. You keep a 100 off the top. I will have Onion come tonight and work the night shift so you can get some time to yourself.
I don’t want to have to treat you like a kid but I need you to stop acting like one. Me and Cal got some more moves to make but give me a holler if you need us. You dig? Ok then we out.
Mark and Cal then proceeded to exit the spot and get back in the truck and head out up John R. Cal then proceeded to speak.
Good job my nikka…little dog thought you was for play or some shyt.
You right dog…hate to have to do it to him but these streets are rough. In the end it will make him stronger for the next nikka and when he becomes his own boss.
You right Cuz.
Alright fukk all that. Let’s hit the liquor store up there and then let’s hit KR crib so I can drop a lil something to get my mind off that bullshyt.
Ok. Bet.
Chapter 1
The Detroit underworld, the one place that Mark felt completely in his element. Born and raised in the treacherous city that laid claim to some of the biggest hustlers, killers, corrupt politicians the world had ever seen. Today was like any other day for Mark as he gathered all of his necessary tools that would be needed to set his day in motion. Kush weed, swisher sweets cigarillos, a digital scale, small baggies, disposable gloves, a razor blade and a pint of Remy VSOP. Looking around the small living room in the sparsely furnished home, he contemplated if he should go out to the store and grab another pint before conducting his required business. As the clock was quickly approaching noon he decided that he was already behind schedule and if he needed anything more he would reach out to his right hand man Cal to grab it before he made his way to the residence for their normal meeting. He then went back to his routine that had become commonplace for the last few months. First he went to the kitchen and reached under the kitchen cabinet in his hiding place and brought out a fresh ounce of quality crack cocaine and sat it on the living room table that functioned as his makeshift workspace. He then pulled out his trusted laptop computer that he had conveniently purchased from his personal do anything fiend P for two large twenty piece rocks, even though he tried to come back later and claim that he promised him three! Dope fiends always want to get over! He then loaded up his Itunes directory and pressed play on the latest instrumental track he received from his favorite producer KR. As the beat started banging out of the monitors he had attached, which also he conveniently copped from P, he pulled out his trusted notepad for just in case the inspiration for a monster hit came to his mind. He then sat down to go to work.
Work for Mark was nothing like the average person whom got up and either put on an uniform or prepared clothes to go sit at some white person ran business for 8 hours or more making on average 10 dollars an hour to take bullshyt from some bullshyt ass manager who probably made a dollar more an hour than they did. Mark couldn’t even fathom the thought of going to a regular job and listening to some square dictate to him over the course of a day even though he had graduated high school with test scores on level with the most privileged of suburban kids and bullshytted his way through 3 semesters of community college and a tech school. As with most things with Mark all those came easy to him but without money being involved at that moment he lost interest. Now money, that interested him a lot, a WHOLE lot. Only other thing that kept his interest was his ability to conjure up vivid imagery and put pencil to pad to draw out intricate word play describing the things he witnessed in his day job and then lay out those words in his main man KR homemade studio located in his basement.
Mark finally sat down at his makeshift work desk and got started with his business. He carefully used his razorblade to chop a huge chunk out of the slab of beige rock and then weighed it on the digital scale. He then went about chopping multiple smaller rocks out of the larger chunk. He had been performing this routine for so long that he no longer needed to weight the smaller stones as he could by eye identify the sizes that would be satisfactory for Northeast 7 mile cluckers to know they getting the best deal in the area. After he finished breaking down all of the ounce into 20 dollars size boulders he then started separating the bags to get ready to shovel all the product inside, he hated this process and used to have his bytch Cathy do this until he realized she was stashing one or two for her undercover habit and he had to put foot to her ass. As he continued his work routine the constantly looping beat brought inspiration to his mind and he started freestyling in a low voice
I’m a 7 mile boss,
Destroy the game I never lost,
Flip game century 21 fukk the cost,
Disrespect we pop off,
Bustos we toss,
Made nikka to the feds we don’t talk,
My business watch your mouth,
Strike quickly like a cottonmouth,
Money mayweather right cross,
Make sure you forever close your fukking mouth
Whew!!! That shyt was hot and he quickly grabbed his pad and jotted down those lines and continued to fill out the pad until he was content he had a strong 16 bars. He would holler at his boy Mav at some point and tell him to come up with a hook since that was his specialty within their crew. Once he finished his work, and then counted his work total he then separated the bags into 3 separate sacks put 2 up for later and placed one into his duffel bag for when he was ready to roll out and hit the block. He then retreated to his bedroom and contemplated his wardrobe for the day. He didn’t feel like ironing so he choose a black and silver pair of nike sweats with matching shirt and pulled out his black and silver air Jordan 6’s. He then hopped in the shower still freestyling and then quickly got dressed.
Once dressed he took a look at the clock and saw that it was 12:10…damn he was running behind schedule! He picked up his android Galaxy, he hated them wack ass Iphones, and called his right hand man Cal.
Hello
What up Doe Cuz
Chilling…I’m about 5 minutes from yo crib.
That’s what’s up…did you bring that one thing I asked about?
You know it my dude.
Ok bet…alright I will see you when you pull up and I will head out.
Ok…one.
Mark then went about cleaning up his work area and made the final arrangements so that he could be ready when Cal pulled up and be prepared to hit the streets. After a few minutes he heard the familiar sound of the bass banging from Cal’s newer model Chevy truck. He then proceeded to grab his bag, his cartier shades and his trusty 9mm glock from under the sofa cushion and placed it snugly in the waist band of his sweatpants. He then grabbed his keys, set the alarm for the doors and exited the door.
Cal was a large framed, fair complexioned, black male with deep set eyes, and a furrowed brow that always looked like he was 2 seconds from whipping some one’s ass that you could even see behind his dark tinted cartier frames. His looks and demeanor were the perfect contrast from Mark’s short stature and dark skin and heavy waves that he always kept immaculately cut. Mark always appeared to have a smile on his face which hid his dark demeanor and quick temper. Mark quickly jumped into the passenger side of the truck and the two long time friends exchanged pleasantries and pounds.
What up doe my nikka
What’s good my nikka
You got the best hand, you tell me
You know…the same ol’ same ol’
You got that?
Cal then proceeded to reach under the driver’s seat and produced a bag containing a fresh box of 9mm shells. Mark then proceeded to pull out his pistol, take out the clip and load to capacity the shells. He then proceeded to open the custom stash spot that Cal had implanted in the Chevy and place his weapon next to Cal’s 45 automatic that EVERYONE knew he was quick to whip out and dish out street justice. They then pulled out of the small driveway and heading down the block that at one point was one of the most affluent middle class areas in the city but since drugs and corruption and a failing job market due to the departure of the big 3 automobile industry had left the neighborhood a virtual shell of itself. Cal made a left on 7 mile and they headed to their stomping grounds of John R and 7 mile. Cal proceeded to turn down the drowning bass of the blaring track coming from the expensive sound system of the upscale truck and they started talking business.
Ok Cal. I got a thousand sack already bagged. We can go through the spot and make the drop off to Lil Tim and pickup the cho from last night’s run. Lil nikka better have it ALL today or I’m going to put hands on his lil ass!
Yeah Cuz that lil nikka getting out of hand. He starting to take your kindness for weakness because he your girls lil brother. That nikka Dino told me the lil nikka be over there taking 3, 4 blowjobs a day and using our shyt to get it.
Horny lil nikka. I mean we all done turned tricks in the game but that nikka better start using his own dough to get his nut off and stop playing with me! I done told him about that shyt. He thinks it’s a game! I got about 3 mo’ lil nikkas waiting to take his place.
Yeah I told you last week to let me shake him up over that bullshyt.
Nah dog…I got him. I would never stop hearing his sister’s mouth if I let somebody other than me deal wit his ass.
I feel you dog but if you don’t do something when he fukking up then he will keep trying you further each time and the streets will start thinking you a pushover.
I feel you dog…I will handle his lil ass
Cal then proceeded to turn back up the volume and Young Jeezy’s Lose My Mind blared out the speakers as such a rate that everyone they passed turned to stare at the truck as they passed by. After about 10 minutes had passed they turned up Goldengate and pulled up to the dilapidated single family home that functioned as their current drug spot. They quickly exited the vehicle and proceeded to walk up the broken down stairs that lead to the entrance to the home. Upon hearing the vehicle pull up Lil Tim came to the door and unlocked the dead bolt and opened the guardian steel screen door to let the two hustlers inside. Once inside Mark quickly scanned the house and noticed the smell of drug smoke in the air and noticed a back room door slightly cracked and the movement of several people within it. He quickly started questioning Lil Tim.
Who the fukk is that?
That bytch Loretta and one of her tricks.
Did you make her cash out for the room?
Hell yeah.
How long she been back there?
About 20 minutes?
How much she buy?
She bought a 40.
Oh hell nah…bytch YOUR TIME IS UP! Hurry up!
Alright cash me out…How much is this?
About 680 and I got about 100 left.
nikka you had a 1000 pack!
Man these broke ass fiends around here keep coming short and they keep talking about D them up the street got better plays so I had to take what we can get.
nikka fukk them nikkas…I told you about that shyt! Tell them hoes to go to D them then! This a motherfukking business! I know damn well them nikkas shyt not bigger or better than what we offering up in here! I’m tired of you keep telling me the same ol’ shyt! Matter of fact…Hey Loretta it’s time to go! I got business on the flo and your broke ass always up in here like you paid rent up in this bytch.
Loretta opened the door and screamed back…nikka y’all not paying no rent up in here either!
Mark replied “bytch don’t worry about what the fukk we paying! It’s checkout time! Let’s go!
Loretta grudgingly collected her things and came out the room with some weird looking white cracker with eyes budging like he just hit a 1000 stone and tensed up at the sight of the 2 well dressed but deadly looking dope boys. After she exited the home from the back entrance Mark turned to Lil Tim and proceeded to berate him.
nikka you think I’m stupid don’t you.
What you talking about cuz.
nikka fukk that Cuz shyt! You think cause you Keisha’s brother that you can keep shorting me and shyt!
Nah dog it’s not like that
Mark then proceeded to reach out with his left hand and roughly slap Tim across his right cheek and then stated.
YOU THINK I’M A bytch HUH nikka.
Nah Mark it’s not like that.
Mark then proceeded to slap him with his other palm.
DO I LOOK LIKE A LAME TO YOU nikka!
Nah Mark…come on man…it’s not like that. It’s a million spots in this hood dog. I’m just trying to make sure we eating.
At that point tears came to the teenager’s face and for a brief moment Mark felt bad for the younger man. He took a quick glance at Cal who gave him a knowing nod. He quickly got back into character and proceeded to speak to the young worker.
I been telling you about this shyt too long. I know what you doing Cuz…Cal told me I should have been put you in check but I got some love for you so I been letting you slide. That shyt is over. If you want to fukk around and get your lil dikk sucked then you do it on your time cause this right here is a BUSINESS! You have NO more times to fukk up. If these motherfukkers come with shorts more than a dollar you send they ass about their way! And if they come a second time short then you don’t take it. Now stop crying like a lil bytch and Man up!
Lil Tim quickly regained his composure. Mark then proceeded to pull out the sack out his bag and sat at the table in the small living room of the spot. He then instructed Tim to sit down. Mark emptied all the contents of the bag on the table and proceeded to count them one at a time with Tim paying close attention. He then spoke to Tim in a calm manner.
As you see it’s a 1000 up in here. Call me when it gets down to less than 200 and I will come back. You keep a 100 off the top. I will have Onion come tonight and work the night shift so you can get some time to yourself.
I don’t want to have to treat you like a kid but I need you to stop acting like one. Me and Cal got some more moves to make but give me a holler if you need us. You dig? Ok then we out.
Mark and Cal then proceeded to exit the spot and get back in the truck and head out up John R. Cal then proceeded to speak.
Good job my nikka…little dog thought you was for play or some shyt.
You right dog…hate to have to do it to him but these streets are rough. In the end it will make him stronger for the next nikka and when he becomes his own boss.
You right Cuz.
Alright fukk all that. Let’s hit the liquor store up there and then let’s hit KR crib so I can drop a lil something to get my mind off that bullshyt.
Ok. Bet.
i will be honest
