Mr. Perfect Ch. 5
It was a drought on cocaine in the city. In fact, even my plug in Palm Beach was
out of coke. Niggas was blowing my phone up all night and all day for the past two weeks
looking for work. Niggas who I didn’t even deal with or like was calling me like we was
friends or something. “E boy I need you”! They knew I was from Crystal River. And they
knew that I either had coke, or I knew where to get coke, even in the drought. This was
true but even I had a hard time finding some good clean during these times. Luckily I had
my business to fall back on to keep my money and bills stable until something came
through. I jumped in my work van that afternoon and headed to Williston to post up and
sell some Cd’s and movies. Williston was a very small town about 15 minutes south of
Gainesville. I had been going there since I got out of prison 10 years ago. They showed
me a lot of love over there and became a major part of my success. My nigga Crusty a.k.a.
Poochie, Greedy, Chuby, Lil One, Draper, Lil Mike, Ace, Bubba, Blood, Lil Pie, Gusto,
Carlos, Big Kev, Lil Eddy, Mrs. Alice, and the rest of the city became like family to me. I
started talking to an older woman from there named Felicia. She had a big family. I met
one of her cousins there named Leo. Now Leo was one of them niggas like me. I mean he
would do anything to get money. Rob , steal, sell dope, anything. So when we met we
clicked immediately. He put me up on some licks and I put him up on some licks. One
day me and Felicia went to Jacksonville in my Mercedes. It was a 2 door coupe CLK-430.
I painted it a bright candy, tangerine orange, with orange 22 inch rims to match. We went
out to dinner in Jacksonville that night and hung out for a while just slide’n through the
city. Since Jacksonville was only about 45 minutes out of Gainesville, I went there a lot
to get inventory for my store or walk on the beach. It started to get late so we got ready to
head back to Gainesville. I stopped at a gas station to fill up and when I walked into the
store, the line was super long. Almost everyone in the store was staring outside at my
Benz like a spaceship had just landed at the gas pump. A young white boy, trying to talk
like he was black, had just fell in line behind me and began asking me questions about the
Benz. “Damn cuz, where you get that painted at? What year it is? How fast does it go”? I
was not paying him much attention at all until he leaned over and whispered in my ear.
“Hey bro you need some weed”? Dollar signs flashed across my eyes. I told him to step
outside so we can talk more. I paid for my gas and walked out. He came out to the car and
started talking. “This car is bad ass !!!” In between him gawking about my car, he
managed to ask me how much weed I was looking for. “I get about 20 to 50 pounds a
month through UPS from El Paso, Texas. I usually pay about $300 to $500 per pound
depending on the grade”. He smiled real big and said that he could sell me 20 pounds for
$10,000. I said ,”that’s cool but can you bring it Gainesville”? He said yes. Now I got a
big ass Kool-Aid smile because I’m about to knock his head clean off his body. He
looked to be about 20 years old. His mama should have told him about talking to
strangers. We exchanged numbers and I explained to him how I was waiting on my
“income tax check”. LOL.. He told me that his name was Brian and that his license were
suspended, but it wasn’t a problem because his girlfriend, “Brittany”, drove him
everywhere. I told him my name was Otis. I jumped in my car and drove home plotting
on my next move. Felicia asked me who the white boy was and I told her he wanted to
buy my car. I keep everybody out of my game room. Period. A few days later I gave
Brian a call. “Hey Brian, this is Otis, you ready sell me those rims you said you had” ? He
said yes and that he would call me that night when he got to Gainesville. My plan was to
meet him in a public place that was well lit so he wouldn’t count the money. I had printed
up $9,000 in counterfeit bills. Mostly $20’s and $50’s. Then I took a thousand dollars of
real money and mixed it in with the counterfeit. The trick is to place the real money on
the top of the counterfeit and wrap it up to look official. He called me a few hours later.
“I’m in Gainesville Otis. Where do you want to meet up at “? I had him meet me in an
apartment complex that housed students from The University of Florida. I had my nigga
Leo, Felicia cousin, post up a few cars down from where I parked at with the pistol just
incase something went wrong. It’s a dirty game in a dirty world. You never can be too
careful. He could have been planning to rob me for all I knew. I gave him directions and I
could hear him repeating them to his girlfriend. Minutes later he pulled into the complex
and I flashed my headlights to signal him. Just so happen there was a huge pool party
going on that night. I think every white student from UF was there that night not knowing
that they were apart of my plan that night. I was in the Acura RL that I had bought for
Felicia. I decided to drive that because it was low key and fast as hell. Brian had his
girlfriend park next to the Acura and he got out to get the weed out of her trunk. It was in
one big garbage bag. I popped my trunk on the Acura and he sat the bag in my trunk. I
thought to myself, damn, either this cracker is dumb or brave as hell. He came and sat in
my passenger seat next to me and gave me some dap. Like he was a real nigga. I said,
“look bruh, we need to make this quick cause it’s too many people out here”. I pulled the
money out of my Lois Vuitton briefcase to make it look good. I handed it to him and he
asked me if it was all there. “This ten grand “? I laughed and said, “is that 20 pounds”?
He shook his head yes. I could sense the fear in his heart. I said , “well then partner, we
gone be doing a whole lot of business together at these prices. And if I ain’t got to weigh
your weed, you ain’t got to count my money. It’s all there. He glanced at it one more time
and stuffed it in the pockets of his jacket. He shook my hand and got out with a huge
smile on his face. I put my pistol back on safety and pulled off slowly. Then I seen Leo
come out behind me through my rearview mirror. I bent a few corners real slow and when
I got out on the main highway I hit it. That damn Acura shot off like a bullet. I had to
slow down to give Leo his cut for following me. I pulled over and he ran up to my
window. “You got it”? I got out and went to the trunk. When I opened the trunk and
looked into the garbage bag, I noticed Brian had the weed separated into pounds and half
pounds. So I reached in and gave Leo a half pound. “Damn man let me get a pound”? So I
snapped. “Nigga you didn’t even do nothing”! He cried like a baby so I gave him another
half so I could go before the police rolled up on us. I got home and parked the car in the
garage. It was hot so I told my lady to just drive the Jag until I got the Acura looked at. I
told her we needed to put it in the shop because it was running hot. I kept everyone, and I
mean everyone out of my game room. Period.
I had 19 pounds of some pretty good weed. I sold it for $250 a QP (quarter pound)
which meant I made roughly $1,000 per pound. Yeah, $19,000 and I didn’t even have to
shoot nobody. I sold it all in less than a week because my clientele was through the roof. I
kept a half pound for myself to smoke with my cousin J.B. in Tallahassee. That nigga was
like my brother. His mother and my father are brother and sister so that made us first
cousins. We were born and raised in Crystal River. I moved to Gainesville when I was 13
and then he moved to Tallahasee after he graduated. I went to Tallahassee to ball with
that nigga for a week. We smoked and smoked, and went to the Moon, and smoked some
more. Then we hit the Governors Square Mall to cop some Polo. Then we got back to the
business. Cuz told me that it was a drought on coke in the city. I was like “Duhhh!!!
Nigga it’s drought in the United States right now on coke“. You know we was high as
hell cause we started talking about we bet it’s because that ship that got hit last week with
that 5 billion dollars worth of coke from Colombia. Lol… weed will do that to you. But
on a serious note, we had about $50,000 between the two of us. He had the Seminoles
blowing his phone up and I had the Gators blowing my phone up looking for coke. That’s
when it hit me. I had a chico from Orlando that always had coke. But I always copped
from him through a chick that I used holler at. Her name is Kenya. I called her and she
answered. “What up wit cha bae ? You still got the hook up on them rental cars “? That
was our code talk when I wanted to buy a brick. She also owned a franchise with Budget
Rental Car. She told me to come to town and be sure I had my drivers license, proof of
insurance, and proof of residence. That meant they were going for $30,000 per Kilo. I told
her I would be there the next day and I needed to reserve a full size. We got to Orlando
the next morning to meet Kenya. She ran out to the car and jumped into my arms and
started to kiss me. “Baby I miss you… Where have you been “? I said I had been working
hard and needed a vacation to relax. And that was the truth. However I wasn’t there for
pleasure. I was there to buy a brick so no time for fun today. She called chico and set up a
meeting for later that night. We drove down I-4 and got a room right off of the interstate
at the Microtel. It was around sundown when Chico showed up with the work. He looked
to be about 18 and judging by his baseball hat, button up Polo, and skater shoes, he
couldn’t be a day over 20. He walked in with a school book bag draped over his right
shoulder. He didn’t speak English. Hell I didn’t know his name or if he was Mexican or
Puerto Rican. He sat on the sofa, took the kilo out of the book bag and said, “terty
tousand”. Cuz counted out his $15,000 then I counted out my $15,000. He put the money
in the bag and quickly left the room. As he left me and cuz gave each other that look ,
like, if he only knew who he was dealing with. But we was so happy to finally touch
some work, we snapped back quick. We had done this enough times to know what it was
so we decided to get some rest and leave around 6 a.m. the next morning. We were
veteran cocaine traffickers. And as professionals, we knew that the two best times to
traffic dope was early in the morning when the interstate was full of folks going to work
between 6 and 9 a.m. And anytime it was storming and poring rain. Police hate the rain.
We hit the Ronald Reagan Turnpike early the next morning and slid back into Gainesville
safely around 8a.m. I drove straight to the trap I had in an apartment complex called
Harbor Cove right off I-75 in Gainesville. We unwrapped the brick and took turns
holding it and weighing it to make sure we got what we paid for. It had a stamp of a skull
in the middle. Cuz got a butcher knife out of the dishwasher and cut off a half ounce. I
had the water in the pot boiling so we can drop it to see how good this coke is. The last
one we got from Atlanta was so clean and pure that it started to lock up and get hard
before we could even take it out of the hot water and let it cool off. It would lock up and
turn into crack right on the fork the I was whipping with. In the dope game we call that
rich nigga problems. Because when you buying Kilos, you never know what the hell you
gonna get. You would be lucky if it locked up at all. That’s why niggas always talking
about they wrist and whip game. If you ain’t got that, if you can’t cook your coke and turn
it into crack, you ain’t no dope boy. You just in the way. Cuz took over the pot so he
could whip up the coke into crack. He turned the heat down and dropped the half ounce
of coke into the pot while it was still boiling. The whole thing evaporated like a magic
trick before our eyes and disappeared. Some white stuff floated to the top of the boiling
water. We looked at each other and I put my hands over my face in anger and disbelief.
Chico just sold us a dummy block. A fake ass brick!!! Damn, damn, damn!!!! I chipped a
piece off the Kilo and tasted it, then rubbed it in between my fingers. Real coke would
absorb into your fingers and dissolve when I rub it. This was like chalky and just turned
my fingers white. It even tasted sweet and chalky. Chico just got us for $30,000. J.B.
threw the pot across the room in disgust. I had to walk out and smoke me a blunt. This
meant war. This Mexican got to die. On everything I love he bout to die. I called Kenya.
For all I knew she was in on it to. I tell you, a cocaine drought will make a nigga go crazy.
I done tricked Brian with the counterfeit for 20 pounds of weed and Chico done sold me a
fake Kilo. All that in less than 2 weeks. Smh….
I called Kenya 3 times and her phone went straight to voice mail. I hit up my
brother Cam in St. Pete. “Bruh bruh, I got a problem with a car I just bought. The motor
won’t start so we need to take it back to the car lot”. Me and Cam had the same dad but
different mothers. He said he would be there in the morning. The next morning Cam
walked in and woke me up. He had a key to my house. I called J.B. and told him bruh was
here. J.B. came to the house. He had been up all night at the trap trying to find a buyer for
the dummy block to get our money back. He said he had a white boy from Inverness that
might be interested. But until then, Chico gotta die !!! The plan was to call him and act
like we didn’t know that the brick was fake. Kenya called back around lunch time.
“Hey E, sorry I missed your call, what’s up”?I had to calm myself down before I spoke. “I
need to rent a car tonight before you close”.
She told me she would call me when it was ready. I can’t just take a loss like that and
walk away. $15,000 ? Hell no. And I know cuz probably feel like I had something to do
with it. Kenya called me and said that she had to come to Ocala later. She said Chico
would come with her. We got the plan in place. We met them at 10 p.m. in the rear
parking lot at the Hilton in Ocala. It sat off I-75 and highway 200. Cam sat in his car
parked behind an RV in the parking lot out of eye sight. Chico got out with the brick and
walked over the car where me and cuz sat. Right before he got to the door, Cam put the
Desert Eagle to the back of his head. “Cracker get yo ass on the ground”!!! Kenya sat in
the car watching with a puzzled but horrified look on her face. J.B. jumped out and tied
his hands behind his back with some zip ties. I walked over to Kenya and told her what
the lick was. “Look, Chico sold us a fake brick yesterday. So if you want to see his punk
ass again, go tell his boss he better have my $30,000 by this time tomorrow or we gone
kill Chico, you, and your kids bitch”!!! She sped off crying screaming she didn’t know
and didn’t have no money. We put a sock and some duct tape around Chico mouth and
put him in the trunk of Cam car. “Bruh you want me to kill him now or wait”? I told him
to wait until we heard from Kenya about the money. He hopped on the interstate and took
Chico to the Burg. We had a junkyard down there where we crushed stolen cars and
swapped serial numbers. We followed Cam to the junkyard and tied Chico to a chair in
the back office. Cam called 5 of his goons to come put in some work. I called Kenya and
she answered the phone on the first ring. “You are sick Eric !!! You need help!!! What is
wrong with you”? I replied, “Listen bitch, either you get my money, or you gone be next”.
She started crying,” Eric you told me that you love me, how could you talk to me that
way”? I said, “Yeah I do love you, but I’m in love with my money. So like I said whore,
get me my money”!!! She hung up the phone and I knew then that I would never here
from her again. Chico kept saying ,” Mi speeko no enlesss”… I told cuz that Kenya
wasn’t cooperating. He said, “ well cuz, lets off him”. I called Cam and his homeboys
into the front office. I pulled out $6,000 and gave them all a grand each. I told them to
handle they business. One of them niggas ran to the back office with a baseball bat and
went to work on Chico. I heard him scream through the gag over his mouth. But the
sound of the bat cracking his skull sounded much louder. It was like the bat was hitting a
piece of wood. I gave Cam a hug and we got in the car to head back to Gainesville. On
the way back, I stopped in Tampa and met up with one of my plugs that I called Taliban
Sam. He was from Iraq and Taliban Sam had that work. The only problem was, I owed
him $8,000 from the last time he fronted me 3 kilos. I called him and told him my
situation. Taliban Sam told me to come by his gas station on Busch Blvd. I walked in and
he walked me to the back and gave me a Sponge Bob book bag. He said, “ you owe me E,
I want my money in two weeks or I cut you ass off for good”. I got back in the car with
cuz and put the book bag in his lap. Cuz said, ”damn cuz your face gator in the hood like
that”? I said, “yeah nigga, when you from the swamp, your face gator everywhere”. We
pulled off and opened the book bag. It was two kilos. We smiled real big and started
doing the bankhead bounce. We back on nigga!!! When you a real nigga, that’s how it
happen to you. My brother Cam called me the next day and said they beat Chico into a
coma and left him behind the dumpster on 22nd behind the Church’s Chicken. His girl was a nurse at
the hospital and kept him up on the progress of Chico. She said he was in
critical condition and that he couldn’t talk because his jaw was broken into 3 pieces. And
they didn’t think he would make it. He died two days later….. R.I.P. Chico. Maybe our
$30,000 will help you have a decent funeral. I was out of control. And the urge to change
slowly faded with the more money I made.
It was a drought on cocaine in the city. In fact, even my plug in Palm Beach was
out of coke. Niggas was blowing my phone up all night and all day for the past two weeks
looking for work. Niggas who I didn’t even deal with or like was calling me like we was
friends or something. “E boy I need you”! They knew I was from Crystal River. And they
knew that I either had coke, or I knew where to get coke, even in the drought. This was
true but even I had a hard time finding some good clean during these times. Luckily I had
my business to fall back on to keep my money and bills stable until something came
through. I jumped in my work van that afternoon and headed to Williston to post up and
sell some Cd’s and movies. Williston was a very small town about 15 minutes south of
Gainesville. I had been going there since I got out of prison 10 years ago. They showed
me a lot of love over there and became a major part of my success. My nigga Crusty a.k.a.
Poochie, Greedy, Chuby, Lil One, Draper, Lil Mike, Ace, Bubba, Blood, Lil Pie, Gusto,
Carlos, Big Kev, Lil Eddy, Mrs. Alice, and the rest of the city became like family to me. I
started talking to an older woman from there named Felicia. She had a big family. I met
one of her cousins there named Leo. Now Leo was one of them niggas like me. I mean he
would do anything to get money. Rob , steal, sell dope, anything. So when we met we
clicked immediately. He put me up on some licks and I put him up on some licks. One
day me and Felicia went to Jacksonville in my Mercedes. It was a 2 door coupe CLK-430.
I painted it a bright candy, tangerine orange, with orange 22 inch rims to match. We went
out to dinner in Jacksonville that night and hung out for a while just slide’n through the
city. Since Jacksonville was only about 45 minutes out of Gainesville, I went there a lot
to get inventory for my store or walk on the beach. It started to get late so we got ready to
head back to Gainesville. I stopped at a gas station to fill up and when I walked into the
store, the line was super long. Almost everyone in the store was staring outside at my
Benz like a spaceship had just landed at the gas pump. A young white boy, trying to talk
like he was black, had just fell in line behind me and began asking me questions about the
Benz. “Damn cuz, where you get that painted at? What year it is? How fast does it go”? I
was not paying him much attention at all until he leaned over and whispered in my ear.
“Hey bro you need some weed”? Dollar signs flashed across my eyes. I told him to step
outside so we can talk more. I paid for my gas and walked out. He came out to the car and
started talking. “This car is bad ass !!!” In between him gawking about my car, he
managed to ask me how much weed I was looking for. “I get about 20 to 50 pounds a
month through UPS from El Paso, Texas. I usually pay about $300 to $500 per pound
depending on the grade”. He smiled real big and said that he could sell me 20 pounds for
$10,000. I said ,”that’s cool but can you bring it Gainesville”? He said yes. Now I got a
big ass Kool-Aid smile because I’m about to knock his head clean off his body. He
looked to be about 20 years old. His mama should have told him about talking to
strangers. We exchanged numbers and I explained to him how I was waiting on my
“income tax check”. LOL.. He told me that his name was Brian and that his license were
suspended, but it wasn’t a problem because his girlfriend, “Brittany”, drove him
everywhere. I told him my name was Otis. I jumped in my car and drove home plotting
on my next move. Felicia asked me who the white boy was and I told her he wanted to
buy my car. I keep everybody out of my game room. Period. A few days later I gave
Brian a call. “Hey Brian, this is Otis, you ready sell me those rims you said you had” ? He
said yes and that he would call me that night when he got to Gainesville. My plan was to
meet him in a public place that was well lit so he wouldn’t count the money. I had printed
up $9,000 in counterfeit bills. Mostly $20’s and $50’s. Then I took a thousand dollars of
real money and mixed it in with the counterfeit. The trick is to place the real money on
the top of the counterfeit and wrap it up to look official. He called me a few hours later.
“I’m in Gainesville Otis. Where do you want to meet up at “? I had him meet me in an
apartment complex that housed students from The University of Florida. I had my nigga
Leo, Felicia cousin, post up a few cars down from where I parked at with the pistol just
incase something went wrong. It’s a dirty game in a dirty world. You never can be too
careful. He could have been planning to rob me for all I knew. I gave him directions and I
could hear him repeating them to his girlfriend. Minutes later he pulled into the complex
and I flashed my headlights to signal him. Just so happen there was a huge pool party
going on that night. I think every white student from UF was there that night not knowing
that they were apart of my plan that night. I was in the Acura RL that I had bought for
Felicia. I decided to drive that because it was low key and fast as hell. Brian had his
girlfriend park next to the Acura and he got out to get the weed out of her trunk. It was in
one big garbage bag. I popped my trunk on the Acura and he sat the bag in my trunk. I
thought to myself, damn, either this cracker is dumb or brave as hell. He came and sat in
my passenger seat next to me and gave me some dap. Like he was a real nigga. I said,
“look bruh, we need to make this quick cause it’s too many people out here”. I pulled the
money out of my Lois Vuitton briefcase to make it look good. I handed it to him and he
asked me if it was all there. “This ten grand “? I laughed and said, “is that 20 pounds”?
He shook his head yes. I could sense the fear in his heart. I said , “well then partner, we
gone be doing a whole lot of business together at these prices. And if I ain’t got to weigh
your weed, you ain’t got to count my money. It’s all there. He glanced at it one more time
and stuffed it in the pockets of his jacket. He shook my hand and got out with a huge
smile on his face. I put my pistol back on safety and pulled off slowly. Then I seen Leo
come out behind me through my rearview mirror. I bent a few corners real slow and when
I got out on the main highway I hit it. That damn Acura shot off like a bullet. I had to
slow down to give Leo his cut for following me. I pulled over and he ran up to my
window. “You got it”? I got out and went to the trunk. When I opened the trunk and
looked into the garbage bag, I noticed Brian had the weed separated into pounds and half
pounds. So I reached in and gave Leo a half pound. “Damn man let me get a pound”? So I
snapped. “Nigga you didn’t even do nothing”! He cried like a baby so I gave him another
half so I could go before the police rolled up on us. I got home and parked the car in the
garage. It was hot so I told my lady to just drive the Jag until I got the Acura looked at. I
told her we needed to put it in the shop because it was running hot. I kept everyone, and I
mean everyone out of my game room. Period.
I had 19 pounds of some pretty good weed. I sold it for $250 a QP (quarter pound)
which meant I made roughly $1,000 per pound. Yeah, $19,000 and I didn’t even have to
shoot nobody. I sold it all in less than a week because my clientele was through the roof. I
kept a half pound for myself to smoke with my cousin J.B. in Tallahassee. That nigga was
like my brother. His mother and my father are brother and sister so that made us first
cousins. We were born and raised in Crystal River. I moved to Gainesville when I was 13
and then he moved to Tallahasee after he graduated. I went to Tallahassee to ball with
that nigga for a week. We smoked and smoked, and went to the Moon, and smoked some
more. Then we hit the Governors Square Mall to cop some Polo. Then we got back to the
business. Cuz told me that it was a drought on coke in the city. I was like “Duhhh!!!
Nigga it’s drought in the United States right now on coke“. You know we was high as
hell cause we started talking about we bet it’s because that ship that got hit last week with
that 5 billion dollars worth of coke from Colombia. Lol… weed will do that to you. But
on a serious note, we had about $50,000 between the two of us. He had the Seminoles
blowing his phone up and I had the Gators blowing my phone up looking for coke. That’s
when it hit me. I had a chico from Orlando that always had coke. But I always copped
from him through a chick that I used holler at. Her name is Kenya. I called her and she
answered. “What up wit cha bae ? You still got the hook up on them rental cars “? That
was our code talk when I wanted to buy a brick. She also owned a franchise with Budget
Rental Car. She told me to come to town and be sure I had my drivers license, proof of
insurance, and proof of residence. That meant they were going for $30,000 per Kilo. I told
her I would be there the next day and I needed to reserve a full size. We got to Orlando
the next morning to meet Kenya. She ran out to the car and jumped into my arms and
started to kiss me. “Baby I miss you… Where have you been “? I said I had been working
hard and needed a vacation to relax. And that was the truth. However I wasn’t there for
pleasure. I was there to buy a brick so no time for fun today. She called chico and set up a
meeting for later that night. We drove down I-4 and got a room right off of the interstate
at the Microtel. It was around sundown when Chico showed up with the work. He looked
to be about 18 and judging by his baseball hat, button up Polo, and skater shoes, he
couldn’t be a day over 20. He walked in with a school book bag draped over his right
shoulder. He didn’t speak English. Hell I didn’t know his name or if he was Mexican or
Puerto Rican. He sat on the sofa, took the kilo out of the book bag and said, “terty
tousand”. Cuz counted out his $15,000 then I counted out my $15,000. He put the money
in the bag and quickly left the room. As he left me and cuz gave each other that look ,
like, if he only knew who he was dealing with. But we was so happy to finally touch
some work, we snapped back quick. We had done this enough times to know what it was
so we decided to get some rest and leave around 6 a.m. the next morning. We were
veteran cocaine traffickers. And as professionals, we knew that the two best times to
traffic dope was early in the morning when the interstate was full of folks going to work
between 6 and 9 a.m. And anytime it was storming and poring rain. Police hate the rain.
We hit the Ronald Reagan Turnpike early the next morning and slid back into Gainesville
safely around 8a.m. I drove straight to the trap I had in an apartment complex called
Harbor Cove right off I-75 in Gainesville. We unwrapped the brick and took turns
holding it and weighing it to make sure we got what we paid for. It had a stamp of a skull
in the middle. Cuz got a butcher knife out of the dishwasher and cut off a half ounce. I
had the water in the pot boiling so we can drop it to see how good this coke is. The last
one we got from Atlanta was so clean and pure that it started to lock up and get hard
before we could even take it out of the hot water and let it cool off. It would lock up and
turn into crack right on the fork the I was whipping with. In the dope game we call that
rich nigga problems. Because when you buying Kilos, you never know what the hell you
gonna get. You would be lucky if it locked up at all. That’s why niggas always talking
about they wrist and whip game. If you ain’t got that, if you can’t cook your coke and turn
it into crack, you ain’t no dope boy. You just in the way. Cuz took over the pot so he
could whip up the coke into crack. He turned the heat down and dropped the half ounce
of coke into the pot while it was still boiling. The whole thing evaporated like a magic
trick before our eyes and disappeared. Some white stuff floated to the top of the boiling
water. We looked at each other and I put my hands over my face in anger and disbelief.
Chico just sold us a dummy block. A fake ass brick!!! Damn, damn, damn!!!! I chipped a
piece off the Kilo and tasted it, then rubbed it in between my fingers. Real coke would
absorb into your fingers and dissolve when I rub it. This was like chalky and just turned
my fingers white. It even tasted sweet and chalky. Chico just got us for $30,000. J.B.
threw the pot across the room in disgust. I had to walk out and smoke me a blunt. This
meant war. This Mexican got to die. On everything I love he bout to die. I called Kenya.
For all I knew she was in on it to. I tell you, a cocaine drought will make a nigga go crazy.
I done tricked Brian with the counterfeit for 20 pounds of weed and Chico done sold me a
fake Kilo. All that in less than 2 weeks. Smh….
I called Kenya 3 times and her phone went straight to voice mail. I hit up my
brother Cam in St. Pete. “Bruh bruh, I got a problem with a car I just bought. The motor
won’t start so we need to take it back to the car lot”. Me and Cam had the same dad but
different mothers. He said he would be there in the morning. The next morning Cam
walked in and woke me up. He had a key to my house. I called J.B. and told him bruh was
here. J.B. came to the house. He had been up all night at the trap trying to find a buyer for
the dummy block to get our money back. He said he had a white boy from Inverness that
might be interested. But until then, Chico gotta die !!! The plan was to call him and act
like we didn’t know that the brick was fake. Kenya called back around lunch time.
“Hey E, sorry I missed your call, what’s up”?I had to calm myself down before I spoke. “I
need to rent a car tonight before you close”.
She told me she would call me when it was ready. I can’t just take a loss like that and
walk away. $15,000 ? Hell no. And I know cuz probably feel like I had something to do
with it. Kenya called me and said that she had to come to Ocala later. She said Chico
would come with her. We got the plan in place. We met them at 10 p.m. in the rear
parking lot at the Hilton in Ocala. It sat off I-75 and highway 200. Cam sat in his car
parked behind an RV in the parking lot out of eye sight. Chico got out with the brick and
walked over the car where me and cuz sat. Right before he got to the door, Cam put the
Desert Eagle to the back of his head. “Cracker get yo ass on the ground”!!! Kenya sat in
the car watching with a puzzled but horrified look on her face. J.B. jumped out and tied
his hands behind his back with some zip ties. I walked over to Kenya and told her what
the lick was. “Look, Chico sold us a fake brick yesterday. So if you want to see his punk
ass again, go tell his boss he better have my $30,000 by this time tomorrow or we gone
kill Chico, you, and your kids bitch”!!! She sped off crying screaming she didn’t know
and didn’t have no money. We put a sock and some duct tape around Chico mouth and
put him in the trunk of Cam car. “Bruh you want me to kill him now or wait”? I told him
to wait until we heard from Kenya about the money. He hopped on the interstate and took
Chico to the Burg. We had a junkyard down there where we crushed stolen cars and
swapped serial numbers. We followed Cam to the junkyard and tied Chico to a chair in
the back office. Cam called 5 of his goons to come put in some work. I called Kenya and
she answered the phone on the first ring. “You are sick Eric !!! You need help!!! What is
wrong with you”? I replied, “Listen bitch, either you get my money, or you gone be next”.
She started crying,” Eric you told me that you love me, how could you talk to me that
way”? I said, “Yeah I do love you, but I’m in love with my money. So like I said whore,
get me my money”!!! She hung up the phone and I knew then that I would never here
from her again. Chico kept saying ,” Mi speeko no enlesss”… I told cuz that Kenya
wasn’t cooperating. He said, “ well cuz, lets off him”. I called Cam and his homeboys
into the front office. I pulled out $6,000 and gave them all a grand each. I told them to
handle they business. One of them niggas ran to the back office with a baseball bat and
went to work on Chico. I heard him scream through the gag over his mouth. But the
sound of the bat cracking his skull sounded much louder. It was like the bat was hitting a
piece of wood. I gave Cam a hug and we got in the car to head back to Gainesville. On
the way back, I stopped in Tampa and met up with one of my plugs that I called Taliban
Sam. He was from Iraq and Taliban Sam had that work. The only problem was, I owed
him $8,000 from the last time he fronted me 3 kilos. I called him and told him my
situation. Taliban Sam told me to come by his gas station on Busch Blvd. I walked in and
he walked me to the back and gave me a Sponge Bob book bag. He said, “ you owe me E,
I want my money in two weeks or I cut you ass off for good”. I got back in the car with
cuz and put the book bag in his lap. Cuz said, ”damn cuz your face gator in the hood like
that”? I said, “yeah nigga, when you from the swamp, your face gator everywhere”. We
pulled off and opened the book bag. It was two kilos. We smiled real big and started
doing the bankhead bounce. We back on nigga!!! When you a real nigga, that’s how it
happen to you. My brother Cam called me the next day and said they beat Chico into a
coma and left him behind the dumpster on 22nd behind the Church’s Chicken. His girl was a nurse at
the hospital and kept him up on the progress of Chico. She said he was in
critical condition and that he couldn’t talk because his jaw was broken into 3 pieces. And
they didn’t think he would make it. He died two days later….. R.I.P. Chico. Maybe our
$30,000 will help you have a decent funeral. I was out of control. And the urge to change
slowly faded with the more money I made.
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