To him, I said menacingly, "One stupid move and it's gon' be lights out for you, homie. Test my gangsta and you'll never get to tell about it." I cracked him across the head with the steel.
He yelped like a bitch ass nigga.
"Blunt, please don't hurt him. He has nothing to do with what's going on between us. He's just an old friend. Let him leave, and we'll talk," pleaded Mo'. She was shaking like a leaf.
I grinned mockingkly. "Oh, now you wanna talk? You ain't have no talk for me an hour ago. What, you tryin' to save this pussy nigga? He must be more than a friend."
"Nawl, man ---" the nigga moaned. He reached up to rub his head.
"Did I ask you anything? And put your mothafuckin hands down before I get trigger happy on that ass." I glanced around the lot to see if anyone was coming. The cover of the night protected me from any Good Samaritan types.
"Mo', pop your trunk," I barked.
"For what?"
I slapped her date across the back of the head with my banger a second time. Blood ran down the back of his neck. "Pop the mothafuckin trunk!" I repeated more forcefully.
I heard the trunk unlatch. I made Mo' up her car keys so that she couldn't pull off. "You know what the move is," I gritted to ol' boy, then marched him to the rear of the car and forced him to climb into the trunk.
"Man, I'm bleeding," he said, as if I gave a fuck.
"Next time, do your homework," I spat before slamming the trunk lid.
I hurried around to the passenger side and hopped in the car. I handed Mo' her keys back and instructed her to pull off. "This is crazy, Blunt,” she cried.
"And it's gonna get even crazier if you don't tell me what I wanna hear. Now put this bitch in gear and drive down to The Bluff."
“No, Blunt, this is crazy. I am not doing that. Let him go, and we’ll talk. I promise.”
I thought about it for a minute, and then decided not to force her hand. “Aight, I’ma let the pussy nigga out the trunk. But you better make him understand that if he comes back around, I’ma make him sleep wit’ Jesus. You understand?”
“Yes.” Her reply came out through clenched teeth.
“Mo’ don’t try me. Fa real, a nigga is on edge. I’ll kill all three of us,” I threatened. I pointed the gun at her, and then put it to my own head.
Mo’ covered her eyes and cried, “No, Blunt!”
“Well, you better come with me and tell that nigga what time it is.”
When I got out of the car, Mo’ followed me back to the trunk.
“I ought to murk this clown,” I gritted as I snatched the keys from her.
“No, Blunt, that is ridiculous. He’s no one but an old friend from high school,” she swore.
“I don’t give a fuck. I want the nigga to kno’ that he can’t get at mine.” I opened the trunk and pointed my banger down at the frightened square.
“Mo, tell this weak ass nigga what time it is,” I said as he climbed out of the trunk cautiously.
She huffed, and then told dude, “This is my boyfriend. I was mad at him when I called you and I apologize for putting you in this situation. Under no circumstances will I call you again.”
“Okay,” he replied. Then he turned to go back to his car.
I put my banger to the back of his head. Very menacingly I whispered, “Even if she calls you again you bet not answer. You hear me, Pussy?”
He turned to face me and my heat met the tip of his nose. "Do you hear me!" I barked.
“Yeah, bruh, I hear you,” he replied.
I raised my foot and kicked him dead in the ass.
“Argh, shit,” he yelped. He grabbed his left ass cheek, fell inside the Lexus, and hauled ass.
“Why did you make me do that,” asked Mo’ through tears when I slid back in her passenger seat.
“You had no business callin’ that pussy in the first place. Switch seats wit’ me. I’ma drive us to a place where we can talk.”
“Blunt, you’re scaring me,” Mo’ remarked, trembling.
“Girl, hush. You know I would never hurt you. I just want to talk things out. I’ll come back and get my car.”
“Gosh!” She sighed and reluctantly switched seats with me.
My Way Or The Highway
Molaysia
Blunt had to be plum dumb and crazy to think that we could talk things