Whole story: this was back in '97 or whatever. Me and my homie wasn't trying to do shyt with our lives at the time. Just two dusty ass nikkas stuck in the small village of MiddleOfNowhere, Mississippi.... Was nickel and dining just enough money to put gss in the cars, eat and go to somebody's club every night.
One evening he comes driving up in this old 2 door cutlass supreme he had, right. He jumps out talking bout how "we done made it!" And rapping old no limit songs and dancing and shyt. He wouldn't explain what he was talking about, but was adamant about the fact that there was this club that we really didnt fukk with that we HAD to go to that night.
So I said fukk it, let's go.
We get there, and my boy is burning through all the money he had (like $200 dollars cause we was ballin outta control
) buying food for folks and nasty ass Paul Masson.
I was like damn, what this nikka doing!?
At about 12, he stopped me from shooting pool and was like "
come on we gotta meet this dude out here!" So we go out and he hands me the gun out from under the seat and grabs this black bag that was sitting on the back seat floor that I didn't know was there. Now I'm worried for REAL, cause we wasnt even welcome in this part of the world.
But we walk over to this old ass pickup truck that was parked waaayy in the back like out by the field and shyt, right. These two nikkas jump out the truck and was like "
tell yo boy to stay over there!" My homie and this dude walked around the truck, said some shyt and exchanged bags, me and his homies exchanged
s.
True enough, we get back to the car and he tells me to look in it? Bag of money. We went back in and got fuuucked up.
So we driving back and I'm counting shyt, he's talking about all the stuff we about to do. Clothes, trips, hoes, you know us small minded country nikkas. I look up and he's swirving to miss two deer that was standing in the road. He hit one of them and the car slid off the road sideways and into the ditch. We was okay, but one of the wheels was torn halfway off the axle. We stood on the side of the road for a minute. Folks was just driving by, blowing their horns and hitting us with the
, so we started walking towards town.
About 10 minutes later, this OTHER dude we knew pulled up beside us and was all freaking out cause he saw the car and didn't see us. He was on his way back to town to see what happened. We told him we was just gonna pull it out the ditch in the morning cause it couldn't be driven.
My boy was like "it don't een matter, cause I'm bout to buy another one anyway!
"
It was right then that we realized that neither one of us had the bag.
We tell Ron to turn back around cause we left something important in the car, right. We get to the car, somebody had busted out one of the windows, stole his radio out the dash, and yeah. The bag was gone, too.
We started trying to kill each other right there on the side of the road. The club must've just got out cause all these nikkas showed up to watch us slug it out. We both left with other people and was on some "fukk that nikka!" shyt for like a week.
Then he showed up one day and we went back to selling dirt weed and making $50 a day like nothing happened.
So there you go. My brief stint as a big time drug dealer.
no reason to lie to you guys 
they set it up so it would grow over the years and our payouts would start when we turned 18. so i get a check every year.
I can't be out here broke.
