BooksBarbecue
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

“Later.” She ended the call. Billy’s spirits were immediately lifted at the thought of having a nice dinner with Marcus’s fine ass. She could’ve cursed Yoshi out for giving up the number, but she knew if Yoshi didn’t think Marcus was on the level it wouldn’t have happened. Billy made a U-turn and headed back toward her building. If she was stepping out, then she would need something to wear.

25

Yo, I’m telling you, son, I got the hottest shit on the block right now. You need to stop playing and fuck with me, duke.” Crazy Eight was on the block, trying to hustle his CDs as usual, doubling as block entertainment for Jah and Spooky.

“Nigga, why you always out here trying to push them CDs, knowing damn well nobody wants ’em?” Spooky asked, eyeing one of the CD cases comically.

“’Cause this is the new movement, God,” Eight said seriously. “Don’t you realize the power of the spoken word? Music is the universal message, my dude.”

“I got a message for you: Get the fuck up outta here with them bootleg-ass CDs.”

Eight’s eyes took on a semimurderous glint. “Duke, you ain’t gotta dis me. Just say you don’t want it.”

Spooky didn’t like Eight’s tone and decided to teach him a lesson. “Well, I don’t want the shit!” Spooky said, sending the CD floating through the air.

Eight watched helplessly as his CD hit the street and got crushed by a speeding car. Eight looked from the shattered pieces of his CD to Spooky. Fire burned behind the young man’s eyes as he sized Spooky up. The look made Spooky so uncomfortable that his hand moved to the gun he had tucked on him.

Jah gave Spooky a look, letting him know that he didn’t approve of what he had done. He dipped into his pocket and handed Eight a twenty-dollar bill. “Here, this is for the CD asshole broke, and let me get one for the crib.”

Eight’s eyes softened a bit when he took the money from Jah. “Good looking out, fam. Let me get your change.”

Jah stopped him. “Don’t worry about it. Go get me a Dutch from the corner store and we’ll call it even.”

“A’ight, my dude,” Eight said, mounting his bike. “I’ll be right back.” He pedaled off to the store, leaving Jah and Spooky alone.

“Why you do that shit, fam?” Jah asked, his face screwed up.

“Man, fuck Crazy Eight.” Spooky spat on the ground. “Why do you give a fuck about a derelict-ass nigga like him?”

“It ain’t the point of him being a derelict, Spooky. Come on, man, Eight is from the hood. How many fucking years we knew that cat?”