"Yo, Keith, you still selling that stuff you making from Home right?"
"Ni**a, shut the f*ck up! You tryin get me arrested?"
Tyson. He's short and stupid. He's Black and I don't think he knows what to do with his hair. Every time I have seen him, his hair in messed up braids. Wearing clothes with different colors of paint on it, probably from the construction work he does on the side for money but this ni**a probably homeless, most of the time he's never wore different clothes. I know that cause he stinks of sh*t and I have never see him in different clothes or different hair style.
Sitting next to the corner store, that's where I see him, hassling the people for money and only money. Last time someone tried to give food instead of money, b*tch ass ni**a took the food and threw it to the ground. He got some damn air-time before he threw it, jumped up, picked it over his head and threw that sh*t to the ground.
He buys my stuff in this Walmart parking lot. He spends 15 minutes talking about how I should give him more but in the end, I just shut-up, give him the same amount, take the cash and leave.
"My bad, Keith. You still selling though right?"
"Yeah man, I'm still selling. How much you want this time today, Tyson?"
This guy must be crazy though. Ni**a just got out of prison and comes straight for some C*ke. He looking left and right too. This man is f*ckin crazy.
'Imma drop the price for him this time he must be wanting to feel out of this world.'
"Tyson, your ass is tweaking hard, man. Imma give it to you for less this time. Don't expect me to drop this sh*t again though. Alright?"
"Sh*t, man, really? How much then?"
"I can drop it to 60 but don't even try to negotiate, I ain't even dropping this sh*t any lower."
"Sh*t, thanks man."
He brings his hand out for me to dab him up, I return the gesture.
"He has a sweaty ass hand!"
He tries to pull me in to a one armed hug. I push him back. I ain't hugging this sweaty ass ni**ga.
"Let's just get this sh*t over with. I got places to be man. Show me the cash and I'll pop the truck and give you some."
A door slams shut. The parking lot is full today I was hoping for that today is presidents day. Cars are parked next to me and every parking spot is taken, hell took me a while to ever find a damn spot.
Tyson reaches into his pocket, pulls out dollars scrunched into a ball.
I turn around and start counting the money on my trunk. I always let him come to me. I always chose a busy time in the lot, more people, less likely to get caught.
He always took a while to get to the lot a huge majority of the time. So I would sit and listen to music in my car while he would walk around looking into the cars, looking for me.
I straighten out the cash that Tyson left crumbled and counted them.
"Ten... Fifteen... Twenty-five... Forty-five... Forty-six, forty-seven, forty-eight... Fifty-eight. Tyson, ni**a you short by two."
"Keith, please, come on man. I still need to eat. Man sh*t getting more expensive each minute that passes man, please?"
"Hell NO! Ni**a, I told your ass that I'm dropping it to sixty nothing lower!"
"F*ck, damn. Ok, I only have a five. Here, Keith?"
I stack the cash together and pull out three dollars, handing it over to Tyson.
"I ain't gon take more then I need to from you Tyson."
He grabs the cash and puts into his messed up pants pocket.
As I pop the trunk open, I look at the rear-view mirror and see cops coming out of the corner of the car from behind Tyson. I don't even warn the ni**a, I just slam my shit close pull my body to the side and make my door swing open.
Then I feel something, Something hot, and pointy. My body starts to spasm and shake hard, I fall to the ground and slam my head against the ground. I didn't get shot cause I'm not bleeding but I'm shaking really, really bad. My body it going hard then soft, I'm getting cramps in my back. I can't breathe, I can't feel my body, I'm losing conscience, I can barely see anymore it getting dark. I feel my mouth getting wet.
Before I lose conscience, I look back and see, Tyson and his stupid ass face. He's smiling and standing there talking to the cops as they are getting closer to me.
An officer jumps on my back. A damn near perfect example of a stereotypical police officer, White, near-perfect handle bar mustache and rectangle shaped lens glasses.
The last thing I see before being pulled out of conscience is this stupid as white cop and the face of f*cking, Tyson. I think of one thing before fading out of conscience.
"This piece of Sh*t! He set me the F*ck up! I'm going to beat his f*cking ass."