NYC 2021 *You get off the train to visit a bad bytch, you met off ig, in her building. You stumble on 30+ J-Hova’s posted outside on the stoop*
*you freeze in your tracks, knowing you fukked up. You forgot the “blicky” and ya fam linked with some jersey bytches so assed out alone, if it goes down. You step forward, casually, hoping they didn’t notice your moment of weakness. You try to cut across the grass to maybe find another entrance*
*a short teenager, in a faded avirex jacket, a 2-tone untied durag, some black creased uptown’s, a dingy Hanes white t-shirt and a clip on tie, looks up from his dice game and notices you. He elbows his friends and then stands to try to get your attention...*
“Yeeerrrrrrrr!...... I said YERRRRRRRR!.... Son, comeah!! I got some watch towers for you, B!”
*your heart drops, as you keep walking. You know you can’t play it off like you can’t hear. The bytch in you makes you instinctively smile as you vaguely point in a general direction. You weakly respond:
“Naaahhh, son, I-I-I gotta get over here right quick...”
*knowing you just condemned yourself, your knees buckle as the crowd all rises and starts to move towards you aggressively. Before you can speed up, you find that part of the crowd had broken off and moved into your path. The train is too far to run. Your only hope is some passerby sees you on your back receiving body blows and “do it for lil saint” spins on your face.... but it’s 2:30am and the ave is deserted.*
“I said I got these watch towers for you B, you ain’t fukkin heah me B!?!?”
*the shorter man continues*
“yo, this nikka getting converted tonight, B! WE GON CONVERT THIS nikka, B!”
*you panic, making a break for the waist high fence. You feel a wheat construct slide in front of your own wheat constructs, causing you to trip and fall... they’re instantly on you slapping you up with watch towers, stomping your ribs, and running your pockets for donations while reciting scripture...
The short leader reads aloud from one hand, as he removes your G-shock with the other...
“...at my lowest jehova is my hope, son!... at my darkest! Jehova is my fukkin LIGHT nikka!..... AT MY WEAKEST.....JEH....”
*just before you black out, you see an NYPD squad car slowly pass, shaking their heads. As Nas once said: “certain parts of the streets, the beast don’t want a part of...”