Mr. Perefct Ch. 8
Sometimes, things can be going so good in your life that you forget how truly blessed
you are. I think God will always hit us with a wake up call to remind us that we must
praise him through the good and the bad times in our lives. I was at that point in my life
where I had it all. Nice home, several high end cars, a beautiful wife, a successful clothing
store, and I was making about $2500 per week, not counting my cocaine profits. I knew
the feds had their eye on me but I was one happy man. But that happiness came from
material possessions. I had money to blow, but I also had a fear of going broke. I guess
that came from growing up poor and remembering all those hungry nights in the projects.
I was sitting in my store on the computer when my phone rung. It was my cousin Rico.
"What up cuz? I got a lick set up right now with some white boys in the country !" Now
me, being ready to lick at any given moment, I was all ears. "What they got cuz?" He
talking super fast with pure excitement in his voice. "Cuz, the crackers got 30 pounds of
mids right now! All we have to do is hit 'em with the counterfeit money and smash back
to Gainesville." So then I ask ,"How much they want for the weed"? "They say they want
$500 a pound if we buy it all" That's $15,000. It would take me a whole day to print up
that much if I want it to be perfect. So when I explained to cuz how long it would take
and why, he was like," Cuz it don't matter how it look! We can just mix it with some real
money and they'll never know until we gone". I thought about it for all of 30 seconds.
"Cuz come get me from the shop and we can make it happen"....
It was around lunch time when Rico called me. By the time I left the lab printing up the
counterfeit, it was 6 o'clock in the evening. That was the ugliest counterfeit I ever seen in
my life. The color was off and it was cut all crazy. But, oh well. 30 pounds of mid on the
streets went for about $1200 per pound. I grabbed my pistol, sayed a quick prayer, and we
headed to meet the white boys. I mixed about $1500 dollars of my real money with the
counterfeit. We wrapped it real tight with rubberbands in 5 bundles. We talked and
laughed all the way there because this was just another day on the job for us. The real
money was on the top of each bundle.
It took us about 45 minutes to get to the country. We parked the car and walked up to the
door. It was a run down trailor that sat on about 3 acres. Just before they came to the door,
my wife called. "Hi sweety, dinner is ready. What time you coming home?" I whispered
into the phone,"I'll be working late bae so just leave me a plate in the microwave". I hung
up the phone to focus on what was going on and followed Rico inside. I quickly counted
3 dirty whiteboys looking like some crackhead-skater-dudes. We sat down and got right
to business. Rico introduced me to the owner of the trailor and we shook hands. I asked to
see the weed and he went into a back room and came out with a bud about the size of my
hand. "Y'all wanna smoke?" Rico: "Hell yeah, fire up!" Me: "Man hell naw, we come to
handle business!" I gave that nigga that look like Ice Cube gave Smokey on Friday.
"So where the weed at ?" I said in an anxious yet demanding voice. The white boy started
explaing that his homeboy had the weed around the corner and would be there as soon as
I showed him the money. Guess they weren't that dumb after all. So I produced the clear,
plastic freezer bag with the money in it. I had it stuffed in my pants right next to my 9mm.
Wanted to be sure that they got a good look at it incase they was thinking about robbing
us. Yeah, the game is funny like that. When he saw the money his eyes lit up like light
bulbs. He got on his phone and called his homeboy that had the weed. 5 minutes later a
blue Impala with dark tint pulled into the yard. He told us to wait right there, but hell no.
It was show time! So me and cuz followed him out the door. I told cuz to crank up the car
and pop the trunk. Me and the whiteboy met at the trunk and he had a large garbage bag
drapped over his shoulder. I told him to throw it in the trunk. He placed the bag in the
trunk and ran back to get another one, then another one. He said it was 10 pounds in each
garbage bag. I closed the trunk and handed him the bag of money. He asked, "Is this 15?
Is it all there"? I said, "yeah it's all there. You don't need to count it if I don't have to
weigh all this weed". He said,"Cool dude"! We shook hands and I jumped in the car
passenger seat. I told cuz to pull off slow until we got down the road a little. I saw the
white boy and the driver of the blue Impala walk into the trailor. We got to the stop sign
and calmly turned left. It was so quiet in the car you could hear a pin drop. Rico hit the
gas and the car shot forward like a rocket. We rode about a half mile and looked at one
another. We started smiling and celebrating because we knew it would take them over 10
minutes to figure out the money was fake.
However, I looked and saw cuz do a double take in the rearview mirror. He shouted," Cuz
here they come!!!!" The blue Impala was headed for us at a super high rate of speed. I
grabbed my pistol and cocked it. "Cuz pull over so I can dump on these crackers!" Rico
hit the gas and we started weaving in and out of traffic on a high speed chase. I kept
telling cuz to pull over so I can shoot at them. All Rico was hearing was the roar of the
engine. We weaved through traffic doing about 90 mph for about 2 or 3 miles. All of a
sudden I feel the impact of the Impala ram us from the back. And right then I knew it was
kill or be killed. I turned around in the passenger seat and let loose. The pistol sounded
like a cannon exploding as the recoil made it jump in my hand with each pull of the
trigger. The car filled with smell of gun smoke as the back window shattered. But they
just kept ramming us over and over. I had about 5 to 7 shots left when they rammed us
again and the pistol fell out of my hand onto the floor. I reached down to pick it up and I
yelled to Rico,"Cuz be careful, don't let 'em make us crashhhhh!!!!!" No sooner than I
said it, I felt the car start to fish tail wildly and a split second later, we started to flip
violently. It seemed like it would never stop as my body was being thrown around in the
car like a nerf ball in the dryer. Rico had his seatbelt on but I took mine off when I started
shooting. The car was crushed. We landed upside down, partially wedged and wrapped
around a light pole, inside of a fence, of a church.
Cuz was passed out in the drivers seat still in his seat belt upside down. I was
bleeding bad and hurt. But the shock from the car wreck had me numb and disoriented. It
felt like a bad dream. I reached over and shook cuz to see if he was still alive. “Cuz wake
up! Cuz talk to me!”, I yelled out, but he didn’t respond and he wasn’t breathing. At the
same time I began to search for a way out of the mangled Oldsmobile Alero. I saw several
sets of legs walking towards the car. I thought it was help until I heard a male voice say,
“check the trunk”! It was the white boys taking their weed back. I was scared as hell so I
remained quiet and reached around for my pistol that fell out of my hand when the car
started flipping. I couldn’t find so I just closed my eyes and started to pray. “Dear GOD, I
know that I’m wrong for even putting myself in this situation, I am on federal probation, I
should know better. God please don’t let cuz be dead, cause if he ain’t I am going to kill
him for talking me into this. God please don’t let this car catch on fire and blow up, and
don’t let these redneck white boys kill us for trying to steal their weed. And God, I
promise if you get me out of this alive and not go to jail, I will do right from now on”. As soon as I said Amen, my cousin let out a loud ,deep moan. He woke up and at the same
time I heard the sound of the ambulance. It took the 20 minutes to get me out of the
wreckage and another 20 minutes to pull my cousin out. I was bleeding and broken up,
the pain started setting in. It was excruciating. My cousin was o.k. and didn’t have a
scratch on him because he was in his seatbelt. I was tossed around the car like a nerf ball
inside of a clothes dryer. There were about 8 police cars on the scene. As I sat on the back
of the ambulance, one of the police officers walked over and asked me what happened. I
told him that I didn’t know. What could I say? Then he asked me if I wanted to go to the
hospital. I put on a brave face like I wasn’t in pain and said no. Over his shoulder, I seen
the tow truck removing what remained of the car. I noticed the trunk was wide open and I
also noticed 5 or 6 policemen searching around the area the car had flipped over in. I
started praying again. God must have heard my prayers because they didn’t find any of
the weed, they didn’t find the gun, and they didn’t find any of the left over counterfeit
money that we had left over inside of the car. My cousins wife pulled up in their truck
and the police told us that we were free to go. On the ride back to his house, this retard
got the nerve to say, “ cuz, let’s go back and look for the weed”! I said, ”Nigga I am in
pain!!! I think my ribs might be broke and I’m bleeding everywhere. Take me to my damn
van so I can go to the hospital”. I finally made it back home to Gainesville. I was still
bleeding and barely conscious. I made it to Shands Emergency room. When I got out of
the van and walked into the doors of the hospital, a nurse rushed up to me with a
wheelchair. After getting stitched up with over 80 stitches, the doctors said I had fractured
5 ribs. I had never felt that much pain. But considering what I had survived, I was lucky
to be alive and not on my way to prison. I still can’t explain what happened to the weed or
the gun that we had in that car. All I could say once again was, Thank You Jesus !!!
Sometimes, things can be going so good in your life that you forget how truly blessed
you are. I think God will always hit us with a wake up call to remind us that we must
praise him through the good and the bad times in our lives. I was at that point in my life
where I had it all. Nice home, several high end cars, a beautiful wife, a successful clothing
store, and I was making about $2500 per week, not counting my cocaine profits. I knew
the feds had their eye on me but I was one happy man. But that happiness came from
material possessions. I had money to blow, but I also had a fear of going broke. I guess
that came from growing up poor and remembering all those hungry nights in the projects.
I was sitting in my store on the computer when my phone rung. It was my cousin Rico.
"What up cuz? I got a lick set up right now with some white boys in the country !" Now
me, being ready to lick at any given moment, I was all ears. "What they got cuz?" He
talking super fast with pure excitement in his voice. "Cuz, the crackers got 30 pounds of
mids right now! All we have to do is hit 'em with the counterfeit money and smash back
to Gainesville." So then I ask ,"How much they want for the weed"? "They say they want
$500 a pound if we buy it all" That's $15,000. It would take me a whole day to print up
that much if I want it to be perfect. So when I explained to cuz how long it would take
and why, he was like," Cuz it don't matter how it look! We can just mix it with some real
money and they'll never know until we gone". I thought about it for all of 30 seconds.
"Cuz come get me from the shop and we can make it happen"....
It was around lunch time when Rico called me. By the time I left the lab printing up the
counterfeit, it was 6 o'clock in the evening. That was the ugliest counterfeit I ever seen in
my life. The color was off and it was cut all crazy. But, oh well. 30 pounds of mid on the
streets went for about $1200 per pound. I grabbed my pistol, sayed a quick prayer, and we
headed to meet the white boys. I mixed about $1500 dollars of my real money with the
counterfeit. We wrapped it real tight with rubberbands in 5 bundles. We talked and
laughed all the way there because this was just another day on the job for us. The real
money was on the top of each bundle.
It took us about 45 minutes to get to the country. We parked the car and walked up to the
door. It was a run down trailor that sat on about 3 acres. Just before they came to the door,
my wife called. "Hi sweety, dinner is ready. What time you coming home?" I whispered
into the phone,"I'll be working late bae so just leave me a plate in the microwave". I hung
up the phone to focus on what was going on and followed Rico inside. I quickly counted
3 dirty whiteboys looking like some crackhead-skater-dudes. We sat down and got right
to business. Rico introduced me to the owner of the trailor and we shook hands. I asked to
see the weed and he went into a back room and came out with a bud about the size of my
hand. "Y'all wanna smoke?" Rico: "Hell yeah, fire up!" Me: "Man hell naw, we come to
handle business!" I gave that nigga that look like Ice Cube gave Smokey on Friday.
"So where the weed at ?" I said in an anxious yet demanding voice. The white boy started
explaing that his homeboy had the weed around the corner and would be there as soon as
I showed him the money. Guess they weren't that dumb after all. So I produced the clear,
plastic freezer bag with the money in it. I had it stuffed in my pants right next to my 9mm.
Wanted to be sure that they got a good look at it incase they was thinking about robbing
us. Yeah, the game is funny like that. When he saw the money his eyes lit up like light
bulbs. He got on his phone and called his homeboy that had the weed. 5 minutes later a
blue Impala with dark tint pulled into the yard. He told us to wait right there, but hell no.
It was show time! So me and cuz followed him out the door. I told cuz to crank up the car
and pop the trunk. Me and the whiteboy met at the trunk and he had a large garbage bag
drapped over his shoulder. I told him to throw it in the trunk. He placed the bag in the
trunk and ran back to get another one, then another one. He said it was 10 pounds in each
garbage bag. I closed the trunk and handed him the bag of money. He asked, "Is this 15?
Is it all there"? I said, "yeah it's all there. You don't need to count it if I don't have to
weigh all this weed". He said,"Cool dude"! We shook hands and I jumped in the car
passenger seat. I told cuz to pull off slow until we got down the road a little. I saw the
white boy and the driver of the blue Impala walk into the trailor. We got to the stop sign
and calmly turned left. It was so quiet in the car you could hear a pin drop. Rico hit the
gas and the car shot forward like a rocket. We rode about a half mile and looked at one
another. We started smiling and celebrating because we knew it would take them over 10
minutes to figure out the money was fake.
However, I looked and saw cuz do a double take in the rearview mirror. He shouted," Cuz
here they come!!!!" The blue Impala was headed for us at a super high rate of speed. I
grabbed my pistol and cocked it. "Cuz pull over so I can dump on these crackers!" Rico
hit the gas and we started weaving in and out of traffic on a high speed chase. I kept
telling cuz to pull over so I can shoot at them. All Rico was hearing was the roar of the
engine. We weaved through traffic doing about 90 mph for about 2 or 3 miles. All of a
sudden I feel the impact of the Impala ram us from the back. And right then I knew it was
kill or be killed. I turned around in the passenger seat and let loose. The pistol sounded
like a cannon exploding as the recoil made it jump in my hand with each pull of the
trigger. The car filled with smell of gun smoke as the back window shattered. But they
just kept ramming us over and over. I had about 5 to 7 shots left when they rammed us
again and the pistol fell out of my hand onto the floor. I reached down to pick it up and I
yelled to Rico,"Cuz be careful, don't let 'em make us crashhhhh!!!!!" No sooner than I
said it, I felt the car start to fish tail wildly and a split second later, we started to flip
violently. It seemed like it would never stop as my body was being thrown around in the
car like a nerf ball in the dryer. Rico had his seatbelt on but I took mine off when I started
shooting. The car was crushed. We landed upside down, partially wedged and wrapped
around a light pole, inside of a fence, of a church.
Cuz was passed out in the drivers seat still in his seat belt upside down. I was
bleeding bad and hurt. But the shock from the car wreck had me numb and disoriented. It
felt like a bad dream. I reached over and shook cuz to see if he was still alive. “Cuz wake
up! Cuz talk to me!”, I yelled out, but he didn’t respond and he wasn’t breathing. At the
same time I began to search for a way out of the mangled Oldsmobile Alero. I saw several
sets of legs walking towards the car. I thought it was help until I heard a male voice say,
“check the trunk”! It was the white boys taking their weed back. I was scared as hell so I
remained quiet and reached around for my pistol that fell out of my hand when the car
started flipping. I couldn’t find so I just closed my eyes and started to pray. “Dear GOD, I
know that I’m wrong for even putting myself in this situation, I am on federal probation, I
should know better. God please don’t let cuz be dead, cause if he ain’t I am going to kill
him for talking me into this. God please don’t let this car catch on fire and blow up, and
don’t let these redneck white boys kill us for trying to steal their weed. And God, I
promise if you get me out of this alive and not go to jail, I will do right from now on”. As soon as I said Amen, my cousin let out a loud ,deep moan. He woke up and at the same
time I heard the sound of the ambulance. It took the 20 minutes to get me out of the
wreckage and another 20 minutes to pull my cousin out. I was bleeding and broken up,
the pain started setting in. It was excruciating. My cousin was o.k. and didn’t have a
scratch on him because he was in his seatbelt. I was tossed around the car like a nerf ball
inside of a clothes dryer. There were about 8 police cars on the scene. As I sat on the back
of the ambulance, one of the police officers walked over and asked me what happened. I
told him that I didn’t know. What could I say? Then he asked me if I wanted to go to the
hospital. I put on a brave face like I wasn’t in pain and said no. Over his shoulder, I seen
the tow truck removing what remained of the car. I noticed the trunk was wide open and I
also noticed 5 or 6 policemen searching around the area the car had flipped over in. I
started praying again. God must have heard my prayers because they didn’t find any of
the weed, they didn’t find the gun, and they didn’t find any of the left over counterfeit
money that we had left over inside of the car. My cousins wife pulled up in their truck
and the police told us that we were free to go. On the ride back to his house, this retard
got the nerve to say, “ cuz, let’s go back and look for the weed”! I said, ”Nigga I am in
pain!!! I think my ribs might be broke and I’m bleeding everywhere. Take me to my damn
van so I can go to the hospital”. I finally made it back home to Gainesville. I was still
bleeding and barely conscious. I made it to Shands Emergency room. When I got out of
the van and walked into the doors of the hospital, a nurse rushed up to me with a
wheelchair. After getting stitched up with over 80 stitches, the doctors said I had fractured
5 ribs. I had never felt that much pain. But considering what I had survived, I was lucky
to be alive and not on my way to prison. I still can’t explain what happened to the weed or
the gun that we had in that car. All I could say once again was, Thank You Jesus !!!
This is dummy text. It is not meant to be read. Accordingly, it is difficult to figure out when to end it. But then, this is dummy text. It is not meant to be read. Period.
ConversionConversion EmoticonEmoticon