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Back Hood Rat Save as PDF
Chapters (51)
  1. Title Page
  2. Copyright Notice
  3. Acknowledgments
  4. Part One
  5. 1
  6. 2
  7. 3
  8. 4
  9. 5
  10. 6
  11. 7
  12. 8
  13. 9
  14. 10
  15. 11
  16. 12
  17. 13
  18. 14
  19. 15
  20. 16
  21. Part Two
  22. 17
  23. 18
  24. 19
  25. 20
  26. 21
  27. 22
  28. 23
  29. 24
  30. 25
  31. 26
  32. Part Three
  33. 27
  34. 28
  35. 29
  36. 30
  37. 31
  38. 32
  39. 33
  40. 34
  41. 35
  42. 36
  43. 37
  44. 38
  45. 39
  46. 40
  47. 41
  48. Sometimes It Goes Down Like That
  49. Also by K’wan
  50. About the Author
  51. Newsletter Sign-up

Reese thought on it for a moment. “I spoke.”

“You spoke?” Rhonda asked disgustedly. “Reese, what the hell is wrong with you? You’re supposed to be glued to that nigga’s side. He was our ticket to get into the VIP.”

“Rhonda, did you forget you turned down our ticket into the VIP?” Reese reminded her.

“Please, that nigga they rolled in there with ain’t nobody. Don B. and them are the niggaz we’re supposed to be rolling with.”

Rhonda went on and on and for the most part Reese drowned her out. She felt bad enough without Rhonda’s annoying-ass voice adding to it. Rhonda had something to say about everything and everybody. The basis of her whole style revolved around scheming and complaining. Sometimes she wished her friend would just shut the fuck up. A brief glimpse of a profile to their left gave Reese just the way to shut Rhonda up.

“Ain’t that Paul?” Reese asked, nodding in his direction. “Oh, who that li’l Spanish bitch he with?”

Rhonda looked around to see where Reese was pointing and found Paul posted up in the corner. He was smiling and talking to a pretty Spanish girl with long blonde hair. The way they were cooing and carrying on was enough to drive Rhonda insane. Something about the sight of a smile on Paul’s face drove her berserk. Motioning for Reese to follow, Rhonda moved in her baby daddy’s direction, thinking of what new drama she could heap into his life.

“Man, I don’t know why y’all was even trying to press them sluts,” Rel said, pounding on the bar to get the bartender’s attention.

“Rel, shut yo ass up and get the drinks right!” Groovy told him.

“Watch how you speak to a vet, li’l nigga. I’ve been doing this since you was clinging to yo daddy’s pant leg.” Rel popped his collar.

Slick looked at him seriously and burst out laughing. “Duke, why you always talking shit? This ain’t ’89, and you ain’t a captain no more. You a nigga out here trying to get it, like we get it.”

Rel felt small, but he had to maintain his big man composure. “Slick, you talking shit? Nigga, at least when I had my crew out here I wasn’t getting stuck up by juvenile delinquents. Picture one of these water-dick li’l muthafuckas running up on me.” Seeing the embarrassment on Slick’s face made him feel better.