Chapter 2 Chapter 3

I leaned against my freshly washed Lamborghini truck waiting for Travis to meet me. See, Travis and I met a while back. He was just some regular young dude looking for work. I don’t walk around giving mother fuckers hands outs. You have to work for this shit. But for me it wasn't an option for everyone around me to eat.

I pulled a few strings and made him start moving some weight. So far, he's been on time with money, he's never short and he's proven to me that I can trust him. Who am I you ask?

I'm Izaiah, but to everybody in the streets I'm Zay. I'm one of the biggest drug dealers here in Virginia even though I'm only 22 years old. I started out as a corner boy working for my pops and uncle. The two had the drug game on lock.

Unfortunately, they both got locked up on drug charges. That's right niggas out here snitching. I've been in charge ever since then. My mother passed away when I was about 14.

I lost her to breast cancer. I think that played a big part in why I dropped out of school and became a corner boy. Of course, I want more for myself, but money is good. Matter of fact money is great, actually. I made my own, have nice houses and nice whips too.

I opened up two successful strip clubs out in Miami that I own. You know to show proof of legit money, either way business is good. But the truth is I’m always going to be a hustler.

My dad was a hustler, so it runs in my blood. "Sup nigga." Travis announced his presence. "What’s good little nigga?" I dapped him up. "You got work for me why you calling-me all the way out in west bubble fuck?" He asked while leaning beside me on my parked car.

"Aye, get the fuck up. Ain't no time to get comfortable." I told him in a serious tone. "Aight, Aight. What's up your ass today nigga?" he questioned. I grilled him hard for the wild ass shit he just asked but brushed it off.

"Look nigga, these three dudes they go by the name The Loc Brothers, they're in town. I need you to check them mother fuckers out. Word is they trying to work on my corners and that's a no-no!" I preached to Travis.

"These new niggas not about to fuck with my money! I got you, boss, I'll get on it." Travis assured me. I responded with a simple head nod before dapping him again, sending him on his way.

I knew Travis would get information easily. He’s a young cat and knew how to handle himself. I hopped in my truck, speeding off into small traffic. I decided to stop for some pizza.

This spot out in South Boston got the best slices, and the shop is only 30 minutes from where I stay. I made my way there before going home. I grew up in underwood hills Atlanta. My mom, father, 2 brothers and I were one big happy family.

Even though my dad was a drug lord he still managed to give his sons the best of everything. Lit ass birthday parties, a nice home and expensive clothing. He loved his family and would do whatever for us. He treated my mother like a queen as well.

I respected my pops a lot for that too. He’s a real nigga at heart. I arrived at the Pizza shop and there were just a few folks in here.

"Hi. Can I take your order?" A cute brown skin chick behind the counter asked. "Uh, yeah. Let me get 2 plain slices and a sprite." I said. "Okay, that'll be six-seventy -five." She smiled uncontrollably. She was kind of cute.

I handed her a ten-dollar bill, waiting for her to give me my change. I began scrolling through my phone while waiting on my food. I had over 20 missed calls and 30 text messages, all from one crazy ass bitch. Samantha.

I finally got my food after about 10 minutes of waiting. Now a nigga was headed home to eat and sleep. Tonight, my home boy Dex is having a party. We turning all the way up for my nigga.