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Real Life Action: For the Love of Money
Real Life Action: For the Love of Money
Real Life Action: For the Love of Money
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Real Life Action: For the Love of Money

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Transform struggling into success.
Thrilling, superb, suspenseful, impossible-to-put-down, true story.
The author encourages, inspires and entertains. Guaranteed to motivate you into prosperity.
LanguageEnglish
Release dateMay 10, 2012
ISBN9781426993794
Real Life Action: For the Love of Money
Author

Joshua Levi Brown

Joshua Levi Brown is the Best Selling Author of LOVE AND FOOTBALL,soon to be Movie, WHAT GOES AROUND COMES AROUND, REAL LIFE ACTION, and THE BROWN SKIN SCAR FACE. He also has Millions of followers on his YouTube channel

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    Real Life Action - Joshua Levi Brown

    © Copyright 2012 Joshua Levi Brown.

    All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the written prior permission of the author.

    ISBN: 978-1-4269-9312-1 (sc)

    ISBN: 978-1-4269-9379-4 (e)

    Library of Congress Control Number: 2011914969

    Trafford rev. 05/04/2012

    Image297.PNG

    www. trafford .com

    North America & international

    toll-free: 1 888 232 4444 (USA & Canada)

    phone: 250 383 6864 ♦ fax: 812 355 4082

    CONTENTS

    PREFACE

    ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

    FOREWORD

    CHAPTER 1

    The Birth Of The Bad Boy

    CHAPTER 2

    Hot Boy

    CHAPTER 3

    Time To Dip

    CHAPTER 4

    Moving On Up

    CHAPTER 5

    Hard Pain

    CHAPTER 6

    Street Knowledge

    CHAPTER 7

    Doing Good, With Mom

    CHAPTER 8

    Super Hood Hero

    CHAPTER 9

    I’m Sorry Momma

    CHAPTER 10

    Pimp City Created

    CHAPTER 11

    Too Bad

    CHAPTER 12

    Met My Best Friend

    CHAPTER 13

    The Bad School

    CHAPTER 14

    The Dog Pound

    CHAPTER 15

    The Devil Is A Lie

    CHAPTER 16

    Freak Nic Ended

    CHAPTER 17

    Family Fight

    CHAPTER 18

    Boys Will Be Boys

    CHAPTER 19

    Cheating Ain’t Cool

    CHAPTER 20

    First Ride

    CHAPTER 21

    Love Hurts

    CHAPTER 22

    Boot Camp

    CHAPTER 23

    Try God

    CHAPTER 24

    Back To The Streets

    CHAPTER 25

    Behind Bars

    CHAPTER 26

    Free At Last

    CHAPTER 27

    The Dope Man

    CHAPTER 28

    Go Hard

    CHAPTER 29

    God Got Me

    CHAPTER 30

    Conclusion: I Almost Got Killed

    CHAPTER 31

    Short True Story

    CHAPTER 32

    Bonus Poems

    DEDICATION

    AFTERWARD

    ABOUT THE AUTHOR

    COMMENTS ABOUT AUTHOR AND BOOK

    PREFACE

    All the names and other identifying characteristics of the persons included in this autobiography have been changed.

    The actual crimes have also been changed. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or crimes, are purely coincidental.

    ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

    First of all, I like to thank God for giving me the talent to be an author. Next, I like to thank my mom for showing me my talent. She constantly encouraged me to write poems, stories, and tell my testimony to the world. My mom, Apostle Hannah Sheppard, paid for my first two books to be published. What a sacrifice! There’s nothing like a mother’s love. Super thank you mom!

    Thanks to everyone that assisted me in completing my autobiography. Mr. Joseph King, Rachel Moore and the entire Trafford Publishing Company. Thanks Trafford!

    I like to acknowledge my role models. People that motivated me. I don’t think they can get too much recognition. Ice Cube, for coming from the streets of L.A. then succeeding in music and movies. Beyonce for being the most successful twenty something years old in American history. Performing since 8, is not easy. Oprah, thanks for helping all people and for helping our president to make history. Hilary Clinton for proving that women can be leaders. Tyra Banks for being a positive role model, super model to women. While keeping a sweet attitude.

    Matt Ryan for moving to a majority black city that was still hurting over Vick, and making history. Leading the Atlanta Falcons back to back winning seasons for the first time ever. Thanks to Author Blank for making the Falcons a championship type team. Thanks to the entire Atlanta Falcons Organization. I thank God for Vick’s second chance and his come back. Josh Smith, for never forgetting your city or the people. To the Atlanta Hawks for bringing excitement to the NBA and to the City. To the Atlanta Braves for having that ‘A’ symbol that makes Atlanta seem cool.

    Thanks to Dr. Faye Hardaway for being an awesome author, publisher, inspiration and role model. Thanks to Roy and Lisa (sister) Barnes, Pastor and Mrs. Barnes and their blessed ministry. Dr. Paul and Mrs. Jan Crouch founders of TBN. To the entire TBN staff, for spreading the gospel of Jesus to the entire world. Stay strong and blessed. Sister Rachael at TBN, your light shines on others. Kirk Franklin for introducing the young hip hop world to gospel music and making it fun. Bishop T.D. Jakes for allowing God to use you in many ways. The only preacher I’ve seen my Jamaican father listen to. Mary Mary for being so gifted. Patti LaBell an awesome soulful singer. Love you Patti!

    Thanks to ESPN for keeping me up to date in sports, even by radio. To Georgia Tech, Georgia State, Spelman, Clark, Morehouse, Morris Brown, Albany, University Of Georgia, Atlanta Tech, Dekalb Tech, Savannah and all of the Georgia students. Thank you!

    Will and Jada Smith for proving marriage can work even with riches and fame. Tyler Perry for not giving up, and becoming a mega entertainer. Alicia Keys for making great music, constantly. She’s so right ‘Try Sleeping With A Broken Heart’! TLC thanks for continuing to keep Left-Eye alive in our hearts. Thanks Hal Lamar, News Director, HL News/Media SVCS for supporting me and attempting to get my first book in Atlanta Voice News Paper. Da Brat, stay strong, we love you and always will support the first female rapper to go platinum. Haley Berry gorgeous and too beautiful to describe and fine actress. Have much love for you! Rihanna for standing up for women and remaining flawless. Chris Brown for coming back even stronger. Whitney for the spiritual strong come back.

    Thanks to Lawrence Rutherford for always being a true friend. Thanks to Gaybo for helping me out when I was broke, wild and constantly fighting. You stayed real, when I was behind bars. Jean and Myia Heath for always supporting him when he was down. Support means a lot, when you are down. Jameka Mackey, for supporting me more than anyone except my mother. For graduating from high school with a new born baby. Paying all the bills and taking care of a family of 5 and sometime 6. I love you. I see yah! Jasmine Mackey, for living my dream life in the Navy. For getting married to a cool and good husband. My homeboy Rah. Go Navy! The entire US Military, thanks!

    Aunt Velma for always being a real friend to my mother, thanks. To Uncle Wayne, Dion, Sugar Bump, Peaches, Brock, Nick, Uncle Neal, Tricia, John Curtis, Uncle Charles, and Antonio. The Duffie boys and the entire Griffin, Georgia. Forgive me Tricia, you use to come to Atlanta and rescue me every week. I got you! Thanks Mom Annie Mae. Thanks Jessie.

    Uncle Eddie and Aunt Gloria Ann thanks very much for always being there for my mother and showing her love. Also Aunt Connie and Aunt Jolly thanks for always being there for my mother. A shout out to Shay, Shakenna, Deidra, my brothers Key and Mann and my sister Tamara. I love you Key! Thanks, thank you Ms. Millsap true woman of God. Mom Reginia and my sisters Kenya and Devin. I love you and thank you! Love Mother Rozenia Banks (my late grandmother) and my late Aunt Sallie.

    To pretty Red (Ms. U) for being my first fan on my novels. TKO for being my first fan in Dekalb County Jail. Jagged Edge, for remembering me at South Dekalb Mall when my baby momma did your shirt. You told me to stay out of trouble, hold it down for Banker High School in College Park. Keri Hilson, Miss Keri, my home girl for being superb. Also beautiful and gifted. Representing Atlanta and Decatur. You Luda Cris, for remaining down to earth after you got famous. Candy, from Desperate Housewives of Atlanta. You make hardcore men humble with your personality. Keep it all the way turned up! Monica for singing it and bringing it since she was 11 years old. Also staying strong!

    James Patterson, my favorite author when I first started reading novels. Zayne for selling a million copies on the internet. Terry White for selling a million books on the street. Nelly for selling a million copies on the street—DC’s. Vickie Stringeer for selling a million copies on the street. That’s awesome motivation to me!

    Strippers, to all strippers, sometime you might not feel the love you need at home. Keep your head up until life gets better. Jesus said, I tell you the truth, prostitutes will enter the kingdom of heaven before some of the so called righteous. Matthew 21:31

    Taylor Swift for handling adversity with a loving, positive attitude. Sgt. Palmer for being the best Sgt. in the state. Even when ruthless convicts tried to fight her. She never broke or bent the rules and never got personal. Keeping her cool under circumstances that men couldn’t handle. There is a God, you will get your recognition!

    Rickey Smiley for making million laugh, even people in prison that you had no idea were listening. Snoop Dogg for helping unite the Crips and Bloods, preventing them from killing each other. Also, for succeeding in music and acting for more than 20 years. P. Diddy for bringing Justin’s to Atlanta.

    We are glad New Yorkers recognize us. Thanks to my schoolmate Chris Tucker. Continue to be strong and make us proud. God bless you and family Chris.

    To Uncle Champ and Aunt Robbin for really making me want to join the ministry. Keep making gospel music. Sasha, Tae and the family. I love you! To Pastor Adrienne Barnes, thanks for the prays and the book. To Cup Cake Brown, because I learned how to write my autobiography from reading hers. She had an amazing, inspirational life. From a rough childhood to success. To Ms. V. for always telling me to do the right thing and write my book. To Mother Mandy for supporting me always. I love you Mother Mandy!

    To my girls: Destiny, Saniya, Asia and Shay-Shay. Shay-Shay, stay supper cool. Feety, Erica, Catedra and yall mom. Much love to the flies three girls in Decatur. To Quateena’s crew, Sei, Nikki, Shea, Shayla and Chasity. Africa, thank you for keeping my name alive when I was down. To all 4 kids. Aunty Van and my home girl Keshia, I love the whole family. Sharee Brown, Vonda and the girls, Chunda and the girls, Erica and Dana, Miss Kulls, Kettas, Shon, Miss Pat and family. I love Ms. Pat’s entire family. To Brian and Wiggins family, and my cousin and friend Tarvis Lockett and Soul Boy.

    To my mom’s entire telephone Prayer Line Ministry (Ray Of Hope International Ministries Prayer Line). For more than 19 years, calling up to 20 people on 3-way for prayer. Prayer works, see!

    To George Frazier, V103, Ms. Mercer, Ciara and her aunty, and Honey.

    Thanks to the Ray Of Hope International Ministries Church. To every church in the world. Pastor Paula White, for that powerful anointing at TBN. Tameka and Hills Of Help. To everyone in prison, don’t give up. This is dedicated, my autobiography, to everyone that goes through trails, you can make it! Here are some motivating Bible Verses to acknowledge. Matthew 7:1 Do not judge, or you will be judged the exact same way. Mat. 7:7 Ask and it will be given to you. Seek and you shall find. Knock and the door will be open to you. Mathew 9:12 Jesus said, it is not the healthy that need a doctor, but the sick. I have not come to call the righteous, but to call the sinners." Hebrews 13:5 The Lord is my Helper, I will not be afraid. Hebrews 13:1 Keep loving each other like brothers and sisters. Don’t forget to entertain strangers; by doing so; some have entertained angels without knowing it. Hebrews 13:3 Remember those in prison, as if you were the fellow prisoner.

    Much Love, fulfill your destiny in life!

    FOREWORD

    I Wish

    I wish the whole world was perfect and that no one had sin. I wish there were no haters, liars and back stabbing friends. I wish

    I wish that I would have made better choices in my life. I wish that I was the perfect husband for my wife.

    I wish… I wish that I couldn’t feel pain.

    I wish everyone could be happy apple eaters, and enjoy the game. I wish…

    I wish that I had never been to jail. I wish that I had never failed.

    I wish…

    I wish that my heart had never been crushed. I wish that anyone could be real enough for me to trust. I wish…

    I wish that I hadn’t experienced the horrible things I did. I wish I was a perfect adult and a role model to kids. I wish…

    I wish the whole world could sing good and love great. I wish there was no wars, murders, rapes or hate. I wish…

    I wish that everyone had the same God

    I wish that heaven was right on earth and love wasn’t so hurtful and odd.

    I wish…

    I wish that I would have known then, the things that I know now! I wish nothing different, because my troubles made me strong as a cow. I wish…

    This is the testimony of my life. How I started out young and wild, and made so many bad choices. I’ve experience a lot of things, and broken all the commandments. My autobiography is a testimony to let you know, that God can change anybody. To know, you were created to be something great. If you continue to sin, you will miss out on your true blessings, for your life. I named my book Real Life Action, because I lived my life, like

    1 was in a real action packed movie. I didn’t care about consequences. So enjoy the ride and receive the message at the end.

    Be Blessed. Remember

    2 Peter 1:19 A person is a slave, to whatever has mastered him. So sex, money, cars, or whatever. Don’t let nothing or no one master you. Trust God. Peace out.

    CHAPTER 1

    The Birth Of The Bad Boy

    I ain’t never scared! I ain’t never scared! That was my theme song. If I was scared, maybe I wouldn’t be in so much trouble. The hardcore side of me erupted in East Atlanta, Zone 6. In the rough hood, called Edgewood. I was living with my crazy Jamaican daddy. He only had one rule, get drunk as a skunk! He didn’t give a kindergarten pencil, hot hell. Just give, me Budweiser mon! My dad would shout.

    I was 13 years old, about to go to a new school, in my new neighborhood. The middle school was Coan Middle School, the first middle school in the great city of Atlanta.

    I met a kid name Ted, that stayed three houses down from me. I had a secret, bad boy crush on his momma. She was fine! Brown skin, long hair, tantalizing shape and a foxy attitude. Hey, keep that a secret. Can you fight? Ted asked me. Yeah. Why? Actually, I wasn’t positive. Cause, Coan is a wild school. Ted warned me. Great! I love action. I said, excited as a homeless crack head with a million dollars.

    My first fight and all my problems began when I laid eyes on the finest girl at the school. Suetonis was Carmel brown, slim waist, big breasts and a big perfect round, apple bottom.

    You cute. Suetonis told me, blushing. You cute too. I admitted, smiling back. I had a funky fresh $4.00 hair cut, from Mr. Left. The old blind man that cut hair at home.

    Ken was my homeboy, from Edgewood. He heard Suetonis flirting with me in our science class that day. He was Suetonis’ boy friend best friend. I knew he would tell Maine. So what, I’d fight Mike Tyson, tongue kiss a lion, and slap a dinosaur to get with Suetonis.

    Kirkwood and Edgewood fought against each other, ruthlessly. Maine lived in Kirkwood and Suetonis stayed in East Atlanta. East Atlanta was a neutral hood. Edgewood and Kirkwood were so close together, the war stayed heated like an old Cadillac. Maine and his Kirkwood crew, started giving me the evil, kill you eye.

    Ken stopped speaking to me too. Suetonis was that hot. Even at 13, grown men lusted like hungry animals over her. You got a problem? Ken asked me, in the hallway one day.

    I smiled, If you want me too. I said. Was ready to blow up like the 4th of July, in New York. Wap! I always knew, get the first lick. Boom! Boom! Smash! Crack! Bang! I punched him, grabbed him, kneed him, then shoved him into the glass window upstairs. I picked him up, and tried to throw him through the glass. It was about 3 stories drop, if he went through. I picked him up, carried him to the opposite side of the hallway, and charged full speed for the cracked window. I knew he would fall through this time.

    Noo! Stop! Stop! You gone kill him, Earl! Gram yelled, diving in front of me. Dog! Only one nose blowing second away from getting my first murder charge. Now I had reputation as an Edgewood fighter. Coan Middle Schools sat directly in front of Coan Park and Edgewood Apartments sat directly behind the school.

    Gram’s big brother Ted was one of the most notorious thugs in Edgewood history. Gram spread the word to his brother and the whole hood instantly accepted me as their new fighter. This my little buddy, Earl. He can fight. Anybody mess with him, I’ll kill you. Ted told the entire drug selling, freaked out, fighting, thugging, murdering crowd.

    We were all standing in front of the trap spot. Called the Hot Store. Zap and 7 feet tall Tank, just looked down at me. I was skinny and at 13 I looked about 10 in the face. Cute, baby face, is what all the females said.

    All the pretty hood-rats and older guys gave me dap, and patted me on the back. I loved being loved. So from that special moment on, I was determined to be the best fighter in Edgewood. If it got me this much love, I had to continue to get attention, like a Krispy Kreme glazed doughnut being craved by a hungry pregnant female.

    Yeah right! The huge, 7 feet 300 pounds Tank said. He picked me up in the air, over his head. I felt like I was on a roller coaster ride, in Disney World.

    Put him down, before I shoot you. Ted told the fearless, giant Tank. Tank gave Ted that, Oh, we can fight! look. I could feel the animosity like hot grits in my boxers.

    Woom! Big Tank put me down, as quick as he had picked me up. I walked off, feeling violated. Wishing I was a little bigger, or wishing I had a gun.

    Pow! Pow! Pow! Pow! Boom! Tires burning rubber like a horny slut. Ahh! Someone yelled. They shot Zap! Stuttering Poof stated. I decided not to be nosey. I later found out Zap got shot in his butt. Drive byes happened nearly every week at the Hot Store. Everybody that were bad; either stood in front of the Hot Store selling drugs, or just chilling. Edgewood had plenty enemies, because they always jumped on people that came to Edgewood Train Station. Yeah! We got our own trainstation. You know him? Lil Harold asked us. No. Naw. Nope. The crowd of about ten; 13, 12, and 11 years old answered.

    A tall man in an army coat was standing outside waiting on the bus. Boom! Boom! Boom! Get him! My Gosh Maurice hit the man with a miniature Atlanta Braves bat. I kicked him in his big McDonald’s belly. He took off running, in front of the Marta train. It was no catching that Cheeta running, son of a fish!

    How much, money he got in the suitcase? D.J. asked Lil Harold. Shoot. Let’s take it to the hood, and see! A million dollars! We rich! We, we don’t have to steal cars no more!" Stuttering Poof said and we all laughed.

    What da? I asked, feeling drunk and dizzy. Beef Jerkies! I yelled, mad as a broke bank robber on the run. This idiot didn’t have nothing but some pink spandex gym shorts and a bunch of Beef Jerkies. Yeah, he was fruity.

    After robbing the sweet, broke down M.C. Summer, I was back in the school and giving Suetonis all kinds of eye contact and smiles. She would get up and sharpen her pencil for attention. She always wore tight jeans that showed off her gorgeous figure. Dang! I would say out loud every time she got up. She would model walk to the pencil sharpener and look back to see if I was staring at her butt. Ken hated that.

    Ken ran out the class when the bell rang, to tell Maine. Maine was a dark skinned, smooth, curly box head pretty bad boy.

    Later, we were in the gym. Reg was one of Maine’s do-boys from Kirkwood. We were sitting on the bleachers. What up now, Nigga? You by yo self. I told Reg. Oh, oh! Let’s go! I’ll kill you! Reg shouted, taking off his plastic jacket. He wore the green off that dang jacket, every day.

    Boom? !Boom! Bam! Bam! Wam! Wack! When he got his jacket half way off, I had already attacked. Remember always bomb first.

    Why you steal me! Why you steal me! Reg cried through the beating. Uhh! Uhh! Shut yo face punk! I can’t be beat! I said, shinning on him, in front of the entire gym class.

    Mikey was the real Kirkwood hog, he was not gonna let me shine on his boy. He stood up, cause the butt whupping was getting out of hand. I was toying with him. Mikey charged me. Naw!

    Gram came to my rescue again. You ain’t jumping on my homeboy. Gram told Mikey. Gram had his hand on the big bad Mikey. I knew, I couldn’t beat Mikey, unless I had a baseball bat. Mikey didn’t even blink wrong at Gram though. Gram’s big brother Ted, stayed right behind the school. At 17 years old, no one wanted a piece of Ted, period.

    Since Edgewood apartments were right behind the school, Mikey chilled, instantly. Kirkwood was about 15 minutes walk up Boulevard Dr. from the school. Mikey would be dead as an old tape, by the time Kirkwood got the news.

    You stole me! Reg cried again, looking like a swollen face pig. I laughed in his face and the 8th grade stand off, separated.

    Later that week I was chilling in front of the school with 17 years old name Pat. Pat was chubby, with finger waves in his hair. He was real big and tall. He had all that grease packed in his head. Manie, D, Reg, Ken, and Butter-Head came out the school. I was fresh, with my plastic New York Mets Starter, jump suit on. With the New York hat to match.

    Me and D were cool. We always cracked jokes together and all the girls liked us. However, he was from Kirkwood too. When they surrounded me, I felt safe, with white grease head Pat.

    D was real tall and skinny. He grabbed me. Sorry, buddy. Gotta get you. D told me when he squeezed me from behind. Help me fool! Where you going! Why you running, you fat punk! I yelled at Pat; with his full grown scary behind. He coulda beat all five of us kids up. Wap! Wap! Wap! Wap! Ken hit me 4 times, while my good buddy D. held me.

    Let’s go! Get his hat! Butter-Head yelled when he saw D.N. coming. D.N. ws 17, and crazy as a bat on beer. We can’t keep his hat. The Edgewood boys will kill you if they see it. D told Butter-Head. Give me that hat, fool!" D snatched the hat from Butter-Head and gave it to Gram.

    The next day; me, Gram, Lil Harold, KW, Karl, This and That, and the entire Edgewood crew waited in front of the school. CN and Butter-Head got off the Kirkwood school bus. D took off running. Butter-Head ran head first into me, picked me up in the air like a kite, and slammed the grits out of me. Bimp! Bimp! Bimp! Bimp! Butter-Head was punching me like I stole his blue and orange New York starter hat.

    Uh! This and That kicked him in his head. She was a beautiful ghetto drop out. Ouch! He cried. Then I got on top of him and beat him like he cussed out my momma. I hit him about twenty times. Knocked out two teeth and broke his nose. I never saw Butter-Head again. Thank God!

    All this drama, started by Suetonis telling me I was cute. I couldn’t complain, cause I loved that curly head pretty girl. She made my heart pause.

    The next week, I left school to get some peanuts, a big oatmeal cream pie and a strawberry soda. Uh-oh. I saw Maine, T and K and the rest of the Kirkwood crew. Dang. I took off running. I wasn’t getting jumped on today. I was trying to find a weapon. A stick, brick, or something. Ahh! I said. Yeah. Yeah. Gotcha! Manie flexed. T hit me with a huge stick. It looked like a tree. When he was swinging it, I just knew my face was broken in 13 places.

    Whack! He hit me. The stick was weak as water. It was old. It just shattered. Leave that boy alone! A twenty something years old with red, leather out-fit yelled. I was too tired to duck, and they were too tired to punch me. We just stood around in a circle. breathing hard as a 300 pound football player. They just took off running.

    Give me yo bat! I said, and snatched the bat from the jerry curl, dripping headed, black guy in red. I chased all 5 of them with the bat. They were laughing up a storm. I’ma kiiill yall! I shouted, and threw the bat. Whack! The bat hit T in the back of his watermelon head and he fell down, bleeding like a waterfall. Ahh hah! I mocked him, and went in the store to get some goodies.

    A week later, the bell had rung. School was out. Everyone was telling me that the East Lake Meadows boys were at the school looking for me. East Lake Meadows were the ruthless projects called little Vietnam. Someone got raped over there every weekend, for a month straight. Someone got killed over there twice a month. They put babies in ovens and killed babies and mothers. In all the wild, worthless shoot-outs people were killed.

    These guys were all in their twenties. The leader’s name was Tarson The word was that Tarson was looking for this Earl nigga that was messing with his girl friend, Suetonis. Tarson sold heroin at the Church’s Chicken on Will Ruth Street. He was a well known killa. So? You looking for me? Here go! I was going to fight him, the devil, or gazelle for Suetonis. You know the funny part? We ain’t never kissed or nothing.

    When I looked around, I didn’t see any unfamiliar faces, so I got on the East Atlanta school bus. I sat right next to Suetonis. She was just smiling. Earl, why you keep fighting over me? she asked, looking cute as a brown skin Halle Berry. Cause I love you. You so pretty and fine. I’ll fight till I win you. I told her, shooting my young game.

    They out there! There they go! Hide Earl Suetonis ‘ cousin, Puncho told me. I saw about six grown thugs walking around the school bus, looking for me. They looked in every bus. I’m fixing to fight for you! I told Suetonis. No Earl! They will kill you! She cried. I pulled away from her smooth hands and jumped off the bus.

    Hey! Who looking for me? I said to the giants. I was 5 feet, they were about 6 feet 3 and taller. I looked way up in the sky at them. All the kids on the bus just looked so afraid. Like I was Spiderman, fighting off the evil villains to defend the world. Suetonis was crying and I was flying.

    You Earl? Tarson asked, my stupid self. Yeah. I answered, bold as a baby bear standing up to a grown gorilla. He picked me up in the air, over his head. Then threw me about ten feet in the air, up a hill! It felt fun, till I hit the ground. I was in the air about 20 minutes, it seemed. Tarson tossed me so far up the hill, he didn’t even bother to hit me. Tossed me up, like some trash. I got up and Gram ran up to me.

    What’s up? Where they at? He asked. They over there, they already jumped on me. I confessed, like he was my ghetto priest. No hell! Let’s go! I told you to wait on me! Gram took off running, I ran behind him. Any tiny spark, could start a forest fire, fight. I followed Gram behind the school, to the Hot Store.

    Come on yall! Those East Lake clowns just jumped Earl! Gram yelled to about 17 thugs. No they didn’t, touch nobody from Edgewood! Tank said. Tank was the Edgewood Scarface. He robbed his own workers. He put people in trunks, and drove them into the middle of nowhere and beat them. He knocked out teeth and cut his name in people’s back, if they shorted his drug money.

    I was smiling like a stupid trick. I felt so good, walking with about 30 gangsters. All of these people fighting for little stupid me. Not knowing this really was over a girl; so, she’s a fine girl!

    Tank was about 270 pounds, dark and mean. He had about ten baby mommas and was feared like a serial killer. Tank had the biggest gun I had ever seen in my life. He was walking with a 30-30, rifle. It looked longer than 2 baseball bats. The young girl, This & That was with us, and her sisters.

    We got back to the school in about 60 seconds. Tarson and his East Lake Crew were walking through the kids, pushing them out the way. They had pistols in their hands too. They got guns Tank. I said. So. He said with no expression. We saw them, in front of the school. Hey! Edgewood Nigga! Tank yelled. Boom! Ka Boom! Boom! Boom! Now, I was like Wow! Tank was shooting at innocent kids, trying to kill those clowns. With bullets that were twice as long as your middle finger.

    Help! An eleven years old girl cried, running for her life. Sh..-Run! Tarson dropped his little pistol and hopped in the car. Boom! Boom! Boom! One of his boys got shot in the leg. 6th graders, 7th graders, and 8th graders were at this school.

    Sadly, two 12 year olds got shot, but not serious. Just small grazes. The school was crowded, because we had just got out. I felt bad for them. However, I felt good that East Lake knew not to bring their homicidal tails back to Edgewood. I was accepted. Tank never even met me, and was willing to kill for me.

    Neighborhoods in Atlanta, were like gangs in California. We fought for each other. We protected our women, children, and elders. If anyone got killed in the ATL, it was not by an outsider.

    Me and Suetonis were getting real close. However, she really loved Maine’s sucker, popping butt. We talked like brother and sister in class. We had two classes together. Science and math. It was like living on a secluded island with Halle Berry’s face and Buffy the Vampire’s body figure.

    I’ma get you! Maine said, walking pass my science class. Get these! I told him, then I continued to sing ‘Whip Appeal’ by Baby Face. I sang it to Suetonis, in front of the whole class. She was so flattered. I knew I had her. Everyone was laughing. I was standing up, holding my pencil like a microphone. You got that whip appeal! Come on and whip it on me. It’s betta than love, sweet as can-dee…

    Igot yo whip appeal nigga. Maine said, walking back and forth in front of our class. I was on my knee, holding her hands, singing my out of tune heart out. My Cousin Tameka was the tallest girl at that school. She was 13, and 6 feet 1. She was real pretty, light skin and had curls. Tameka was laughing, she was super goofy.

    Boy, Earl you crazy. You betta be ready to fight again. Her boyfriend mad. You got yo glove? Tameka asked me. Yeah! You know I got my fighting glove. I said to my big cousin, that most girls were afraid of. She was from Edgewood too.

    I put my black leather glove on and I started flexing my fingers. For some strange reason the glove gave me more confidence. I don’t understand why, I just felt power shooting through my hands, like electricity.

    As soon as I walked into the hallway, a crowd surrounded me. Bam! Bam! Bam! I punched Maine 3 times with my powerful right glove. Maine was bigger than me, with that greasy activator in his dang head. He grabbed me by my throat and choked me. Bam! Bang. Shhhhi!" I punched him in the nose and he head budded me.

    Mr. Rivers coming! Break it up! Tamesha, the cute Edgewood girl yelled. Gram picked me up, over his head, and knocked Maine’s grip off my neck. Gram looked like a prep. He wore casual clothes; slacks, dress shoes, and had that curl. His brother Ted was a tee-shirt, blue jeans, Nike thug. Man, Earl. You got to chill. Gram told me.

    Uh oh! The principal, Mr. Rivers, said to me. He got on his glove. That boy bad, when he put on his gloves! I told you, I put my money on Earl! The principal said.

    I just laughed and walked down the hall with my bo-legged buddy, M. You bump me! M said to my other partner, R. Ahh! Ahh! Yeah! Yeah! Ahh! Ahh! Ahh! Ahh! Ahh! Uhh! Uhh! M had R’s head between his legs. He was beating R every which away but loose; up and down the stairs and into the corner. That was the worst butt kicking I had ever seen. R had blood gushing out of his head. Bo-legged M walked like a cowboy. M beat him like a cow.

    Mr. Rivers coming! Run! The cool Maine from Renoylds Town shouted. We all took off running. I went home to my daddy’s house. We lived in a large rooming house. The house belonged to a crazy old lady name Miss Tone. It was the ugliest house on the entire street. Six more people lived in the house with us. A lady name Sue, with a fine daughter name Tootie lived there also.

    I was alone in the house with Tootie one day Sue was gone off getting her freak on. You so cute. Come in my room. Tootie told me Alright. I said, and went into her room. We started kissing like that White couple on the chewing gum commercial.

    She was much taller than me and she was juicy and fine. Not fat, but she had the thighs of a WNBA basketball player. I got on top of her, and we continued to kiss. Rape! Rape! Get off! Freak! She screamed. Ouch! Dog! I yelled.

    Tootie’s momma burst into the room and accused me of raping her 14 years old daughter. Her daughter was ten times stronger than me and 5 inches taller than me. Sue was going off. Cussing and throwing stuff. My dad knocked out: having a hangover. He was a painter and spent thousands of dollars on beer every Friday.

    Get your little stupid son! He raped my daughter! I’ma kill him! Sue yelled. Boom! Kicking in my dad’s door. I didn’t understand what rape really meant. I felt like I did something wrong, I wanted my crazy daddy to defend me.

    Bit..! Shut da hell up! My son ain’t rape that ugly bit..! I’ll kick bothof your a ! My dad said, in his painted blue jean out-fit. "I’m leaving

    Miss Tone! Sue said, packing all of their cheap clothes up. Get da heck out! My dad yelled in his psychotic Jamaican accent. Get! Get! My dad started helping Sue, by pushing her and her daughter out of the house. Stank! Wank!" My dad yelled, throwing her trash bags of clothes out of the house at her and her gigantic daughter.

    Her daughter didn’t look so fine to me now, because she didn’t speak up for me. Freak! She came on to me first. We were both terrified of our parents. Sue and my dad use to drink together every time my dad got paid.

    You wanna fight me, mon! Come! Come! My dad told Sue’s Kirkwood boyfriend. Man. Jamaica, I’ll destroy you. You must be drunk. The drippy wet curly headed, Kirkwood man said.

    Shut up! Let’s fight! My dad pushed him and he spilled some of his gin. I knew it was on like a radio now. The curly head guy looked down at his white plastic cup, then shook his head. Not in front of the kids.

    Damn the kids, nigga, blood clot. Let’s fight! Wap! My dad slapped him. Man! You in trouble. I’m a boxer! Bam! Bam! Break. Crack. Blood. Splat! Boom! Bang! Pow! Pow! My dad punched him, he punched my dad. They were boxing, like Ali verses Holyfield, in their prime. They were both punching each other like professional boxers.

    I wished I wasn’t so little. My dad’s nose was bleeding. I wanted to jump in to help my dad. This man was huge. My dad punched him 3 times, he punched my dad 3 times. My dad pushed him into the wall. He caused the man to fly backwards across a glass table, shattering it. Wam! Crack! My dad punched his forehead and the back of the jerry curl headed man smashed against the wall. The dude punched my dad in his nose so hard, I felt it in my chest. My dad stumbled backwards.

    Old Miss Tone was trembling and crying, Stop. Good Lord, stop. Please. Sue and Tootie were quiet; watching my dad and her boyfriend tare up the living room.

    Wam! Wam! My dad punched him in his chin, then in his eye. He came back with two punches to my dad’s forehead and one to his chin. My dad came back with a powerful blow smack dead into his ear. The guy stumbled out of the door. My dad tried to follow him outside to fight in the front yard.

    No. Earl. Let it go. It’s over. The 7 feet tall, slim Tommy told my dad, holding him back.

    When I went back to school I was still thinking about yesterday. My dad was the coolest, kindest guy in the world, until he got drunk. You couldn’t get two words out of him when he was sober.

    Every Friday my dad came home with a big stack of cash. He would give me a hundred dollars for myself, and $200.00 to keep for him. Then he would get drunk, lose money, and buy beer for everybody. He would cuss everyone out and pick fights with everyone in our rooming house; or he would pick fights with everyone at the boot-legging house. Miss Minnie sold alcohol in her house, around the corner.

    I was tired of living like this. My dad would always ask for the money back, that he gave me. He would cuss, and then get broke. $1,000.00 gone, in one day. I was sitting in class, thinking about my situation, Hey Cutey. Suetonis said, blushing. What’s up, pretty girl? I flirted back. You. She answered. Ah, why don’t yall just go together? Cousin Tameka asked us.

    I couldn’t get anymore fights, so I decided to make the Kirkwood boys fight me. I was going to ride their bus today. I was real smart, but I can’t remember doing any work at school. My dad never asked me anything. He never checked on me.

    I was outside the school, on the basketball court, with Riley. We started wrestling. I wanted to fight. I was hurting inside, tired of not having rules. Tired of seeing my daddy drink away a thousand dollars a week. I missed my mom’s house in Decatur. Decatur was less violent than Atlanta back in the 80’s and 90’s. Now, Decatur is wild as Iraq.

    Stop playing! Nigga. Before we fight for real! Riley warned me. I laughed and pushed my insane homeboy. Let’s fight then. I told him. I put my glove on and started bouncing like a kangaroo.

    Riley swang at my good looking face. I weaved the punch and I hit him. Wam! Then he charged me and tried to scoop me up like dirt in a shovel. Riley was stronger than me. However, I knew how to wiggle and maneuver my little body like a snake.

    He had me in the air, I held onto his neck and spun around like a wrestler. I copied all the moves I saw on wrestling. I loved wrestling. I had my arms around his back. Uh! Uh! Uh! I punched him on top of his head.

    Then Gram and Manie broke it up. Chill Earl. You going crazy man. You fighting people form Edgewood. We don’t fight each other. Gram told me.

    I’ma kill you! I’ma kill you! I swear to God! Riley told me, looking meaner than the Tasmanian devil with acid in his butt. We all took off running like car thieves. I jumped onto the Kirkwood School bus, with all of my enemies. I sat by my only goofy friend from Kirkwood, name Jerry. His sister was 16 and cute as a model.

    Boy! You crazy? What you doing on this bus? Jerry asked me. Get off! Get off Earl. He warned me. I ain’t scared. I told him, laughing. Bang! I’ma kill you! I’ma kill you! Riley told me jumping up smacking my window.

    Wow! You gonna get killed whether you stay on or get off. Jerry told me, laughing. Wam! Riley threw a rock at my window. I just made a funny, monkey, mule face at Riley and the bus pulled off.

    Ohh, I knew Riley was serious as coochie cancer. He was going to kill me. I believe that, to this day. He is in prison for murder right now. I hope he get out though.

    Anyway, everybody on the Kirkwood bus was library quiet. They were staring at me like I would be having suicide funeral soon. Now that I think about it, I was crazy. I would never do that again, for free! Mikey’s sister looked at me and shook her head. She looked in my eyes with pity. She had a Kirkwood crush on me.

    Jerry was trying to make me feel better, telling me wacky, lame jokes. White man, Black man, red man. The bus stopped. Uh oh. Dead man. Jerry said, and we both cracked up laughing. Everybody was looking at me like I was crazy. I was, like a cat in a cage with ten pit bull dogs.

    Shoot! I got off the bus first, and watched everybody get off the bus. Mikey was the best fighter in Kirkwood. I was skinny with no back up, and he was built, with his entire neighborhood to help him. Let’s go! Mikey told me. We were in somebody’s yard.

    Mikey’s ten years old brother ran out of Mikey’s house, across the street. Yeah! Yeah! Let’s beat him bad! Mikey’s little, nappy headed brother said. Boy. I would kick yo little butt, if I caught you alone. I thought to myself, while he danced around me with his tongue out.

    Mikey grabbed me and we wrestled for along time. He kept slanging me around, but I refused to hit the ground. He just kept slanging me around. Then his stupid little brother jumped in. He grabbed my legs; I started kicking him until he let go.

    I was struggling desperately with Mikey, who was over powering me. His little brother grabbed my legs again. Man, I was staring into Mikey’s sister pretty brown eyes. She stared back, like she really wanted to help me. Everyone was quiet. However, if she or Jerry jumped in, the entire hood woulda went off on them. Bam! Finally, after 5 long, rough seconds, they slammed me.

    Great! Mikey was too tired to hit me. I wore him down. I jumped up like a woodpecker. I grabbed my brown and black leather book bag, and walked down the street. I only wore the bag for decoration.

    How did I do? I asked Jerry. Man, you did great! Nobody ever hung with Mickey, that long. Jerry told me.

    We were about 20 yards down the street. To my surprise, we turned around and Mikey was running to fight me again. Obviously Mikey was not impressed by my performance. I guess I made him look weak in front of his school bus, and neighborhood. Cause his little brother had to rescue him.

    Man I wish I had my magic fighting glove. Mikey ran up to me. I was ready to punch this fool, this time. A, man. We cool? He asked, offering me his hand to shake. I was stunned. Jerry even gave me the Donald Duck face. I said, I guess.

    Man, I had to fight you. You got on our bus. You disrespected the entire Kirkwood. I’m the representer. If I didn’t fight you, everybody woulda looked at me crazy. I didn’t try to hurt you Earl. Are we cool? He asked, still offering his hand. I was puzzled, like a goose in the project of L.A. Yeah. I said as an evil thought popped into my head like a stripper in Magic City. (Adult Night club).

    Look, don’t tell nobody at school tomorrow. Ok? Mikey asked. Cool, man. You didn’t even hit me. We cool Mikey, it was fun. I lied. Now I knew what his intentions were. He knew it would be a big fight at school tomorrow. My school was in Edgewood, so it was on tomorrow.

    The next day at school, Mikey walked pass us. A, Gram. Mikey jumped on me yesterday. Bam! Bam! Bong! Gram punched Mikey. JJ from Renoyldstown punched him, then I pushed him into the locker.

    Mikey took off running. Beep! Beep! Like the Road Runner. Mikey pushed over this short, cross-eye, bo-legged girl. Ouch! My Willie Wonder! Bang! The little girl said, falling on the ground, losing her glasses and her wig. Flew into the air for 5 minutes, it seemed. We laughed like nut balls.

    CHAPTER 2

    Hot Boy

    When my 8th grade school year was finished, I was worried that I had to repeat the 8th grade. God knows, I didn’t want to endure all of that drama another year. I wanted to go to high school. Crim High, nick name was Crime High.

    At first the high school was called Murphy. They say the principal got killed, so the nick name was Murder High. So they changed the name, hoping it would change the students. Wrong answer Butt Head! It got worse.

    I talked about moving back with my mom. She was super saved, Christian. She had too many rules. My daddy was a super devil, who had absolutely no rules. My mom had no idea how bad her baby was getting. Being raised by a drunk, crazy, Jamaican nut ball, was not good.

    Any dog gone way, my mom went up to the middle school to see if I graduated to high school. When I didn’t do a lick of work. Is my son, Earl Brown going to high school? My mom asked the principal, Mr. Rivers.

    Hell yeah! I’ma change all his grades myself! I’ll retire young, and cut off my toes before I let that crazy boy repeat the 8th grade. Miss, I’m kicking him to high school. Let Crim High deal with that fool. The principal told my mom.

    My mom explained to me and my crazy daddy that I was going to Crim High

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