Girls From Da Hood 10

Book 10: Girls from da Hood

by Treasure Hernandez, Blake Karrington, T.C. Littles

Genres: African American Urban; African American Women's Fiction; Literary Fiction

Synopsis

Urban Books' popular Girls From da Hood series is back, bringing readers more dramatic tales about the lives of some tough, resourceful women who can hold their own when things get rough on the streets. This time, family bonds are put to the test.

Jakki and School Boy are more than first cousins; they're best friends and partners in crime with a reputation for getting theirs by any means necessary. The pair are ultimately forced to defend not only their family name but their loyalty to each other. With both wanting to stand at the head of the table, Jakki and School Boy feud, proving that there's definitely no honor amongst thieves—family or not.

Sani, a well-known female gambling house owner, is at the top of her game, but after she decides to inject phony currency into her business, all hell breaks loose. Guns are drawn and opposing forces take sides. Luckily for Sani, her father and her brothers are well versed in the operations of the underworld. With millions of dollars still to be claimed, all the wolves come out, and the hunting season begins. Will the love of that mean green shatter families and friends, or will the players prove that money can't buy everything?

Release date: May 1, 2015

Publisher: Urban Books

Print pages: 288

Sample

“Oh my freaking God! Not now of all times!” Unleashed panic quickly filled the room.

“Girl, Jakki, what’s wrong?”

“I’ll be damned, hell naw, not now! It was all good just a minute ago. This is mad crazy. That ill-bred snake School Boy got us all messed up with his hating ass! I know he did this.”

“Jakki! Jakki! What? What’s wrong? What is it? What he do? What, tell me!”

It was close to three in the morning as an emotional mixture of confused terror, resentment, anger, and denial took charge of the young women’s voices. A warm summer evening that started out with taking shots of Rémy, smoking blunts, and popping a few pills was well on its way being a nightmare turned reality for both females, one they would soon live to regret. Wearing skirts, sandals, and tight-fitting T-shirts, they were ready to hit the local park or some low-key afterhours spot, not what they were unwisely in the middle of doing.

“Wow, I can’t believe this!” Without a second thought, Jakki loosened her grip on her newly acquired “come up.” The cheap cotton pillowcases filled with several expensive dresses, custom jewelry, and mostly designer purses she was holding dropped to the marble floor. With the last wine-colored leather bag she’d just moments before stuffed inside falling out at her feet, Jakki’s palms grew increasingly sweaty as she thought on what to do next. The flashlight she was holding then hit the floor causing the batteries to come out and roll across the room.

“Plea . . . please tell me.” Begging, Lena was close to tears seeing her newly chosen mentor visibly upset.

“This right here is some real bullshit! Why fucking me?” Jakki wondered out loud. Normally cold as ice, she was shook and it showed. Her mind traveled in a million different directions at once. She felt this obvious betrayal couldn’t be happening. This couldn’t be life, but it was. The so-called abruptly planned carefree night of thievery she and her cohorts intended on having had started to unravel. This was just supposed to be fun and not part of the contest. This whole thing was petty anyhow!

“Wha . . . what is it? What’s wrong?” Always a follower and never a leader, whatever Jakki said, Lena naïvely took as gospel. She’d never witnessed her get excited and never once thought about questioning the moves Jakki or her cousin School Boy suggested they make. It didn’t matter if it was illegal or not, Lena was down for the hustle. Up until this point, Lena trusted her newfound friend. But this caper was different. She might’ve been slow, but she was far from dumb. Lena could easily tell something was drastically wrong. “Why we stopping? Wh . . . wh . . . why?”

“Look, Lena, fall back and don’t ask me nothing right now. Just come on, follow me and hurry!” Feeling another vibration on her breast the big-boned beauty paused. Frustrated, she read yet another unexpected text message before stuffing her cell back in her lace wired bra. That sneaky backstabber!

“Wha . . . what is? Jakki, what’s going on? Tell me!” Lena, past being on the verge of unease stood motionless in the dark wanting answers. “Plea . . . please.”

“Look, girl, I’m not playing around with you. Not now. It’s about to go down so instead of talking you better get ready!” Why in the hell did I bring this green chick? Matter of fact why’d I come in the first place?

“Jakki,” Lena argued as if they were at home trying to decide what to cook for dinner not in the middle of a burglary with the high potential of turning into something much worse. “I . . . I’m not playing! What’s wrong? Ready for what?”

“Okay, you stupid stutter box in a skirt, how about this? Do you like how handcuffs freaking feel? Do you? Do you wanna be in the cell next to your brother? Do you wanna get killed in this motherfucker tonight?” Jakki’s tone was full of intense rage aimed at Lena.

“Nnnnn . . . no.”

“All right then shut up with all that stuttering and do what I said,” she demanded reaching her arm backward in the almost pitch-black darkness. “Take my hand and come on. These fools are back!”

Lena’s heart was beating at least five times its normal rate. Her eyes grew wide and her mouth dry. Swallowing the sudden lump in her throat, the street-naïve seventeen-year-old could barely speak let alone think. “Okay but I . . . I . . .” Her terrified voice trembled as she stumbled into a small-sized display table causing a mannequin to tilt over. “I can’t see your hand. Where you . . . you at?”

“I’m right here!” Jakki felt for Lena’s extended arms. “Now come on before they come in this building and see us!” Once again she barked out in a low, muffled whisper after doubling back for her still very much green temporary partner in crime. “You wanna get us knocked or what? ’Cause a chick like me ain’t trying to go back to jail! Your momma or grandma might bail ya slow, skinny ass out no matter what. But me, I’m hit; my pops still in the hospital. And my so-called loyal family, the bastard who dick you sucking, apparently he on some other type of cutthroat mentality this week!”

Practically dragging a lightweight Lena by the wrist, Jakki found a huge rack of clothing near the rear exit of the exclusive fashion boutique School Boy claimed he’d staked out for days. Receiving two text messages from her older cousin announcing the owners had pulled up in the parking lot and were getting out their cars, Jakki knew she and Lena didn’t have time to escape the same way they’d come in: a hole in the side of the building School Boy crashed a stolen pickup truck through. If they did take a chance and tried it, Jakki wasn’t brand new to the game and knew they ran the risk of being met with God knows what. At this point, they were trapped. It was bad enough they were taking such a gigantic risk by robbing who School Boy claimed was a retired pimp turned businessman, his bottom bitch’s and partner’s store, but now here they were, seconds away from possibly being caught red-handed.

“They who?” Obviously confused, Lena’s eyes darted from side to side searching the dark showroom hoping to answer her own questions. “Whooooo is coming? I’m scared! Who is back? Jakki, who?”

“There you go with all them irrelevant questions again and that annoying dang gone stuttering! The owner and his woman, stupid, okay! The people who own this spot is back.” Jakki was fed up with all the impromptu explanations and laid it on the line. “Now shh, I said be your scary self quiet. School Boy just text saying they got guns in they hands so chill! And right about now, knowing him, he probably gave them the bullets!”

“Guns! Bullets!” She shouted like she hadn’t heard Jakki announce the owners were back on the premises and mere moments away from coming inside. “But . . . but I thought you said this was gonna be easy; in and out like the other places,” Lena interrupted nervously biting at the skin surrounding her fingernails. “You ain’t say nothing a . . . about guns!” She fought to get her words out as the sides of her temples started to pound.

“Listen, dummy, I thought my Master Splinter–minded cousin said it was no pistols involved either. But never mind what I said earlier or him. This is the fuck now and trust, this is serious! So for the last time shut up; besides nobody strong-armed you to come with us anyhow!” Jesus, please be a gag in this trick’s mouth. Jakki, already positioning herself out of easy sight, roughly snatched Lena down to her knees. Moving the multitudes of hangers just right so the clothes could hopefully conceal their entire bodies, the two huddled close together. Momentarily there was nothing but dead silence inside the store. “Girl, relax and stop breathing so damn hard and loud.” Listening to the cylinders of the several deadbolt locks turn, Jakki put her index finger up to Lena’s quivering lips before taking a deep breath herself. “Now shhh, be cool. Here they come.”

Both saying private prayers of grace and mercy, the quiet before the storm ended. They abruptly heard infuriated loud voices and the thunderous sounds of heavy-paced footsteps simultaneously burst through the front entrance. From the makeshift clothing cave each girl braced up preparing themselves for what was to come next. Listening to whoever was clicking the light switches up and down, Jakki was relieved to know School Boy hadn’t totally double-crossed her when he claimed to cut the electricity to the building, like his convenient misinformation about the guns. She had to believe it had to be nothing more than dumb luck that had brought the storeowners back in the middle of the night interrupting her criminal activities. After all what else could it have been? He had proven to be a snake earlier in the week, but claimed he was over all of that now and wanted to get past the drama.

“This don’t make no type of sense. This the third time this year we’ve got broken into,” Maino angrily proclaimed tossing his keys near one of the shattered glass showcases. Holding his cell phone for light in one hand and a gun in the other, he cautiously made his way back near the gaping hole in his otherwise perfect business. “These sick bastards had the nerve to drive a goddamn truck through my wall. Why in the world?” The ex-pimp turned businessman and drug dealer shook his head in disbelief while kicking some of the smaller amounts of debris out his way. “Who does something like this? Only an animal! I swear I wish we would’ve caught them thieving bum fools violating my property. On everything I love, I wish I would’ve been here! First the other night at the house, now this!”

“You right, babe. I can’t believe how desperate these thirst buckets have become here in Detroit. You can’t have anything in this city, not nothing!” his girl, holding her own gun equipped with a laser, agreed, while trying her best to see the damage. Using the popular flashlight app on her phone, his forever loyal moneymaker got a much better look and caught even more of an attitude. “I’m pissed, for real! Look at all my stuff, destroyed, scattered everywhere! I hate all these haters!”

The third person to enter the building had a screwdriver in hand the crooks probably used to start the broken steering wheel columned ignition as well as his gun. “Yo, Maino, whoever work truck they used gonna be pissed come tomorrow. The whole front end of that bad boy just about gone.”

“Man, forget them and they problems. I ain’t even gonna entertain that conversation! Right about now, I got worse. Look at my wall!” Enraged, Maino was ready to tear something up himself. Used to smacking one of his whores or putting his foot up they backside for being short with his money, the six foot one, slightly overweight older player was out the element of his street game having no “trick to blame” and no choice but to call the law. “If it wasn’t for the silent alarm going off and alerting my cell, it ain’t no telling how much more damage them sons of bitches could’ve done. I swear a black man can’t make it in the world going legit!”

Waiting for the electric company, a tow truck, and the slow-responding police to all pull up, the disgusted old school trio checked to see if the most expensive jewelry, authentic purses, exclusive leathers, and the several minks in the upscale boutique were still there. Deciding to remove a few more things in stock to claim as stolen to the insurance company, they heard a strange movement from the rear of the supposedly empty store. Freezing dead in their tracks, they instinctively reached for their pistols. No words were passed between them as Maino, still sporting pumped-up finger waves, tilted his head over toward the noise.

Following his lead, his woman and best friend slowly eased in that general direction prepared for battle. Step by step, each one anticipated who or what they’d find. Knowing the outcome would be nothing at all nice if the burglar was still on the premises, Maino tightened up on the rubber handle of his beloved 9 mm as his homeboy eagerly did the same.

Seconds later the ruffling sound was heard once more. Bred with the Detroit courage of two old lions, both men stood tall holding their own. Knowing they had the best hand against whatever came their way; it was on; kill or be killed. However, Maino’s woman, gangsta to her heart and normally a hood soldier against any of her former johns who wanted to get a little rough, was not feeling as brave, gun in hand or not. Unsure of herself, she refused to be a coward even after haphazardly tripping over a pillowcase filled with items from the store, breaking one of her extra-long multicolored acrylic nails. Suddenly, out the corner of her squinting eyes, she caught a glimpse of what appeared to be a gray object dart by in the distance. Not knowing if it was just the thick eyelashes she was wearing, the small-frame dark-skinned female didn’t want miss an opportunity to prove she was still down for her man. Aiming the crimson red laser beam at what she believed to be the mystery intruder who’d interrupted her peaceful night, her arm raised. Feeling the weight of the pistol in her lower forearm, she got a chill. Not taking a chance on what the unknown held for her and her people in the dark boutique, her index finger hooked around the hairline trigger. Without further hesitation, she fired off three rounds back to back. At the end of the rapid ear splitting tirade, the store grew silent once more. Praying she’d struck her target, the quick-to-react woman defensively took a few paces backward allowing the men to investigate what, if anything, was hit.

“Hey, girl, what in the heck you was shooting at? What you see?” Maino, having been just caught off-guard and robbed by four lightweight females at his spot wanted to show he wasn’t too old to still be in the game. He was ready for combat and to protect what was his as he shrugged her shaky hand off his arm. “I ain’t see nothing! What did you see?”

“Over there.” She excitedly pointed with the bright beam still illuminating from her pistol. “I seen someone crawling! They was moving real, real fast, on they knees! Right over there!”

What started as a few brief minutes hiding underneath the rack of overpriced clothing soon began to feel like an eternity in hell. Listening to the owners furiously discuss what would’ve taken place if they would have caught the culprits in the act, Jakki knew she and Lena had to either stay quiet and pray they weren’t discovered for God knows how long or wait until they got a chance and made a desperate run for the hole. She was good with that. Lena, however, wasn’t as calm as Jakki. Her head started to hurt even more as the grueling moments dragged by. She tried to control her heavy breathing, but it was a struggle. Knowing one of her full-blown anxiety attacks was only seconds away from taking over her body, the petrified teen tried to warn Jakki, but was immediately met with a swift right elbow to the ribs to shut up.

“Be still, girl, before they hear us,” Jakki, ignoring another vibration text alert from undoubtedly School Boy, lowly whispered in her ear after peeking out in between a few pair of blue jeans and a blouse. “That man is pissed off for real about that damage the truck made! Plus they got they guns out. They ain’t playing around with our black asses! I swear they ain’t!”

Hearing the word “gun” didn’t make Lena remain calm; in fact, it did the complete opposite as her heartbeat increased feeling like it was going to jump out her chest. Wishing she was back home in her own bed or even chilling over at School Boy’s getting turned up she started to squirm even more. With a numbing sensation flowing through her limbs, she fought to stay movement free. “I . . . I can’t breathe.” She quietly forced the words out as Jakki’s hand quickly reached over grabbing her mouth.

Mad at herself for bringing School Boy’s little inexperienced jump off with them in the first place, Jakki had to keep the scary female in line before they both were caught breaking and entering cases and were sent to jail or, worse than that, considering the rage in the owners’ voices, found dead somewhere in a ditch. Dang I think they heard us. Jakki momentarily paused as the voices stopped talking. Hearing the soft but apparent sound of footsteps coming in their direction, Jakki’s eyes widened in anticipation of what was to come next as small beads of sweat formed on her forehead. This dumb tramp done got us about to be knocked. Realizing Lena was the weak link Jakki pressed her hand down harder over her now closed mouth praying she’d not panic even more and recklessly yell out that she surrendered.

Lena felt the painful pressure of Jakki’s palm pushing her lips against her teeth causing the inside of her top one to split. She already couldn’t breathe and this was making matters worse. With the owner’s footsteps getting louder, she wanted to faint as tears streamed down her face and over Jakki’s powerful hand. I just wanna go home, was all she could think when a small beam of red colored light came through the multitudes of clothing finding its bull’s-eye directly on her left leg. Not sure of what the light truly was, Lena had seen enough gangster movies in her short time alive and hoped it wasn’t what she assumed it to be.

Oh my God! Jakki held Lena even closer after seeing what she knew was a laser beam shine in the confines of the makeshift cave and on the girl’s bare leg. In a matter of seconds both their fears were tragically confirmed. Jakki gouged her curved fingernails deeply into Lena’s jaw line pressing down even harder over her mouth as three gunshots rang out inside the store. Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! was all she could think before, during, and after hearing the gunfire. Feeling Lena’s skinny-boned body jerk and her head tilt back, Jakki knew the girl was hit.

Lena suffering from an anxiety attack or even going to jail was now the least of her problems. There was a gaping hole the size of a nickel ripped through the flesh of her skin striking a main artery. In excruciating torment, her mind blacked out. Her short life flashed before her tear-filled eyes. Wanting to yell for help from the very people who she’d victimized, she couldn’t as Jakki callously still covered her mouth and now had her much bigger entire body holding hers still. The intense burning sensation, coupled with the heavy amounts of blood now leaking from the wound, was more than the young girl could stand. Traumatized, she felt warm piss run out in between her inner thighs as her body grew limp. Before Lena could ask God to forgive her for all of her sins, just like that it was lights out; her lifeless body slumped over in Jakki’s cruel tattoo-covered arms.

Damn, now what? Shit! Where is the police when you need they dirty asses? Jakki, convinced she was also on her way to get called home, closed her eyes waiting for what was gonna ultimately happen after what came next.

Maino lowered his gun after getting a closer look. “Ahh naw! A stray alley cat! You gotta be kidding me.” In spite of the current situation with the electricity being cut, the police who had yet to show up and the tires and front grill of a truck crashed through his rear storeroom, the fact that his girl mistook a burglar for a four-legged feline that must’ve come through the open hole was hilarious, not only to him but his homeboy as well. “It’s a sin and a shame. You done fell all the way off. I thought you was still trained to straight go!”

“Oh my God! Oh my God! It’s bleeding to death all over the floor!” she screamed holding both hands to her face as the innocent cat squirmed fighting to live. “I can’t believe this. I just can’t.”

“Well believe it.” He laughed sideways at his “always down for whatever” rider who ran toward the front of the store and stood in the open doorway. “Your crazy, pilled-up self done assassinated a cat. You hit him right in his hip.” Maino used his cell phone for light as he yelled over his shoulder. “So I guess that solves the big mystery of what the noise was over here huh?”

Not realizing one of the three bullets had struck not only the cat but one of the women who’d caused the late night chaos as well, Maino had his boy grab a few plastic bags, some gloves, and a shovel from the rear of the building. Taking the still very much alive but suffering animal out to the Dumpster all three of them decided to hit a joint to calm their nerves while leaving the front door wide open.

Appreciative she was spared, at least for the time being, Jakki silently thanked God. Having been through numerous times of being caught up in some wild Detroit street, tonight definitely topped them all. Still holding Lena’s deceased body in her arms, a rightfully paranoid Jakki waited until she heard the shovel scoop up the injured cat that saved her from taking the next deadly bullet of the night. She finally exhaled hearing the three voices head toward the alley.

Peeking out from the clothes rack once more, Jakki saw the front door was open and the bright streetlight beamed in. With School Boy continuing to blow up her cell, she knew her grimy-intentions cousin was still close by if nothing else. Family ain’t about nothing. How that asshole gonna play me of all people? Something told me not to do this caper. How he ain’t got me? Of course she wondered why her first cousin hadn’t burst through the door, guns blazing to save her from harm’s way, especially after hearing gunshots, but now was not the time to figure that part out.

Quickly coming to the realization she was on her own and her life was on the line, Jakki wasted no time getting her mind back right and focused. Allowing Lena to fall over in the still growing puddle of her own blood and urine, she sighed knowing there was nothing more she could do for School Boy’s jump off. She was gone. With the eerie feeling of death looming in the air, Jakki knew this was her time to make a move. It was now or never if she wanted to live to see daylight.

Being mindful that one or all of the three could come back inside the building at anytime and change her future for the worse, Jakki silently moved the hangers aside. On her knees, she stuck her head back out making sure the coast was clear. With a blood-soaked skirt and saliva- and mucus-covered hands, she emerged from their hiding place. Cautiously she stood to her feet feeling wetness on her toes as well, which had to be more of Lena’s blood. Still hearing the lighthearted teasing of the girl shooting the cat by mistake and one of the men choking on what smelled like the truth, Jakki looked over at the open door judging the distance she had to go to make it to freedom. Acting as if they were giving away free cheese, butter, and honey to the first twenty people in line, Jakki took off running. Only a few yards from making a clean getaway, the frantic female stumbled to the floor tripping over the same pillowcase filled with stolen items she’d dropped earlier. Scrambling desperately to get back on her feet, Jakki heard one of the men yell he’d heard a noise back inside of the store.

Damn I’m about to get killed too! I know I shouldn’t have broken into this spot without doing my damn homework! This is so messy. At the same time she heard the sounds of footsteps rush through the back entrance she saw a set of high-beam headlights in the front of the building coming her way. Lord please let this be School Boy’s backstabbing, double-crossing ass! Please!

Ruben was getting old or, as he called it, a little up in wisdom years. Having been in the game of nickel and dime hustling since he was a youth, the gray-haired man had no problem whatsoever still putting in street work. Never having a steady nine to five without it being demanded by a probation officer he was the head of household ruling with an iron fist. Teaching his kin nickel and dimes added up to dollars and cents, and dollar and cents added up to power and respect, not only in your own community, but wherever you went; he was proud of the man he was. Encouraging his family members to do the same, never working for anyone outside of their immediate bloodline had become a Crayton Clan badge of honor and a symbol in their prison-drawn code of arms.

Being cursed, as he often voiced to his loyal wife, with two girls and no boys, he spent a lot of time with his deceased brother’s son nicknamed School Boy. Ruben took him under his wing at an early age despite resentment from the boy’s mother who wanted something better for her son. As the years went by Ruben’s intentions were obvious even to Ray Charles. Grooming School Boy to take over his spot at the head of the family and make the major decisions if need be unfortunately was not going as planned. Ruben was a man who sat back observing situations before reacting. Studying School Boy was no hard task. Being stubborn, vindictive, jealous, and all in all out for himself instead of the general good of the family was more than a problem in Ruben’s eyes. On more than several occasions, School Boy had dropped the ball causing great financial strains on the Crayton Clan general fund. Ruben didn’t mind paying out medical or legal fees if one of the family members got injured or locked up, but cashing out on the sheer stupidity School Boy was becoming infamous for was more than a problem.

“Look, you young fool!” Ruben shouted across the crowded street. “Bring your dumb, ignorant self here. This don’t make no type of sense.”

Hesitantly, School Boy waited for traffic to clear before slowly making his way toward the house. He knew what Uncle Ruben wanted, but wasn’t in the mood to endure another one of his long, drawn-out speeches in what he was doing wrong. “Yeah, Unc, what’s good this morning?”

“Don’t ‘what’s good this morning’ me, you shiftless idiot. I got a wakeup call at six this morning informing me that you and some skinny little broad from around the way was roaming the streets beating dudes I used to run with out they pension checks.”

“Listen, Unc—” School Boy started to take a cop but was immediately interrupted.

“Shut your smart mouth, boy! I’m talking and you listening, you dig!” Ruben’s chest stuck out daring his deceased brother’s son to grow some real balls and jump bad. “I done told you time and time again, the Craytons don’t shit where we sleep. But apparently you like forget me and the family!”

“Naw, fall back some, Unc! It ain’t like that!” School Boy, feeling embarrassed of being chastised by his uncle, slightly raised his voice trying to impress a small group of passing females.

Grabbing him by the throat, Ruben rushed his nephew against the concrete wall of the family home. Fed up with his blatant contempt for the rules of the game, Ruben applied more pressure to the boy’s neck than he probably should have. “How many times I gotta tell you not to disrespect me, young buck? This right here I’m telling you ain’t a joke and neither am I! One day you gonna step in the wrong pile of shit out here in these streets and get your ass handed to you!”

“Ruben, Ruben, don’t!” His wife bolted out the front door with his oldest daughter, Jakki, following closely behind. “You’re gonna mess around and kill him. Take your hands off that child, please! Don’t go to jail for the likes of him!”

As School Boy fought to break free from his uncle’s tightening grip, Jakki gave him the “I told you so, dumb nigga” look. Realizing her cousin was near death as his eyes bulged, she too stepped in begging her father to let him go. “Dad! Dad! Stop it! Let his stupid butt go! I keep telling you he ain’t ready for what you need him to be!” Her judgmental but justified words rang out on the block they called home. “It ain’t in him, it ain’t. And we all see it but you!”

Hearing his firstborn’s voice and words of wisdom, Ruben reluctantly loosened his chokehold allowing School Boy to fall to the ground like an old rag doll. Towering over him, he watched his wife fake pamper the boy checking his neck for any signs of immediate bruising. “Jakki, you probably right. Matter of fact I know you are, but what choice do I have? It’s this idiot’s rightful place we talking about.”

Jakki had just about enough of her father’s biased attitude toward women and their place in the crime-minded Crayton family. Angrily she voiced her opinion loud enough for the entire block to hear. “Look, Dad, no disrespect to you, Uncle Ronni, Uncle Tim, or grandfather’s legacy, but ever since I was little, I’ve been breaking my neck to show y’all that I wasn’t like mom or my little sister who chose to go away to college.” Glancing over at her mother, Jakki gave her a faint smile reassuring her that the statements she had said and was about to say was nothing personal. “I’m not saying I’m as hard as y’all or even as smart, but I can hold my own out here in these streets and you know it. I make moves all the time to bring money to the table but all you see is School Boy. Female or not, I do’s my thang,” she proudly announced daring either of her family members to dispute her gangsta or raw street credibility. “It ain’t nothing personal against him. I love my li’l cousin like everybody else, but dang, Pops, you not seeing the obvious, the bigger picture. School Boy might be blood, Pops, but you can tell he ain’t cut from the same cloth as us.