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The Art of Storytelling Part 2
Things are all slow motion like I'm Neo in the grid, just layin here and thinkin back to when I was a kid, with plasma gushin out my lid, my lashes flutter tight, my 16th birthday 2K1 seems like the other night. My Uncle Sal, a won'drous pal, my father's brother sure, was something like a Dad since mine was killed when I was 4, the hurt my mother dropped was unlike anything before, I didn't want to listen but I had to find out more. It seems like Moms and Sal were more than pals when Pops was gone, without no contraception, Pops was sterile early on, now 6 or 7 months of this I'm nothing short of shocked, cause Mom Dukes came up pregnant so she had to go tell Pops. He died when I was young but it's just better still to say, that he was murdered; splurtered goin 'cross McCarter 'Way, they never caught who did it, only clue, the car they drove, an '89 Ford Taurus painted black and sittin low. My mom embraced the streets, but me I then embraced the heat, I ran with shady peeps I knew who played the game for keeps, my Uncle and my Cousin Pop spread out to other blocks, with lawyers, cops and judges, had the city smothered; locked. My specialty especially was dishin out that weight, I'd ride around with Nate dispensing hate and bakin cake, we had our share to make and yet we always fought for more, we took the town like Marlo in The Wire's Baltimore. My muscle Nate and I we held it down like Snoop and Chris, you give it or get got, there wasn't time for stupidness, we revelled in the power dealing dope and coke provides, until that faithful day when buried secrets came to light. This young'n by the name of Rich he banged and slang them bricks, for us he ran a corner off of Haynes Street in Da Bricks, now homie was an alright sort just always late with it, til Uncle Sal got sick of it and told us 'hang that snitch! ' We scooped him up from Union out on East Route 22, one Friday night the time was right to do just what we do, he had some chickens cluckin at the Garden State Motel, he knew why we were there and said 'Let's play some show and tell.' We rode him to this storage spot, no way that he could run, with Nate up on the gun there'd be 2 shots and it'd be done, that's when Rich opened up a unit, sittin way in back, a Taurus Ford that sat real low, oh yeah, and painted black it can't be that...... To Be Concluded
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Book: Shattered Sighs