Ice Cold Pimpin'

By Seth Smith

Welcome to the world of Antwan 'Twan' James as he adjusts to the curves in life dealing with fast women,underhanded schemes,and unexpected love that can be a deadly decision. The Pimp life in Charleston SC is real and fast. Prepare yourself for a rollercoaster ride

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu.com
• Release date: Jan 21, 2017
• ISBN: 9781365698224

Book preview

Ice Cold Pimpin'

Ice cold Pimpin

Chapter 1

Twan was posted on Florida Ave., in the notorious hood The ‘Money Macon’ located in North Charleston, selling coke while at the same time smoking weed with a small Sony radio on blasting Yo Gotti ‘White Bricks.’

Hey, sweetheart, let me get a gram for $40.00, baby boy, a female junkie stated fiending for a taste of some good white to put up her already damaged nose.

Look ya, lil mama, I need straight $50.00. No shorts no losses, Twan replied looking down at his celly as it rung.

Dam! why you gotta be so hard on a bitch! The female junkie protested as she handed Twan the $50.00.

Twan was born Antwan James. He was the only child. His mother passed away when he was 13 yrs old and his grand mom did her best to bring him up the right way, but Twan fell in love with the street life, making money off of the streets, and soaking up game from the OG’s. At the age of 22 he was doing alright for himself, he had a car, crib, and was getting rid of 9 zones of white a week (knowing how to water whip. Game he got from his O.G Greg) but Twan preferred to serve white, because all he had to do was cut it and bag it and all he served was whole and half’s of grams, so he was satisfied with what he had going on in the game.

The Money Macon was the perfect area to serve coke. Niggas all over the Macon were smoking Boonk- coke laced with weed- bitches were sniffing coke like it was the last days, and junkies were all over the Macon like zombies. Reynolds Ave. was the main strip for fiends and Spruill Ave. was flooded with prostitutes, so everything went hand to hand within the Money Macon.

Twan had 3 homeboys he chilled with, Greg, Tye, and Jack. Greg was the OG out of the 3 of them; he was the oldest being 25 yrs of age. Tye 22 yrs old, a straight go getter getting money off of x-pills and weed, and Jack 21 yrs old was a smooth talking; mac daddy type of nigga chasing, pussy, and pulling scams.

They all chilled together, but all hustled solo. They had a chill spot on Kraft Ave. where they would just cool out and mix up with females and get fucked up and hi. They would also be back and fourth from the Macon to the West Side downtown on Strawberry lane. They all were originally from downtown so it was cool for them to move around the Downtown area also.

Twan answered his cell phone; it was his main man Ross, who was a junkie that lived on Clement Ave. Ross, would run Twan all of the coke sales, and Twan would show Ross love.

Playboy, come over to the crib. I got a motherfucker around ya who want an 8ball! Ross explained excitedly, knowing he would get a cut out of the deal.

You done seen the money right? Twan asked. I’m not trying to come all the way around there for nothing, man.

Twan, you should know by now I don’t play no games, now come on and bring the god dam ball, boy, Ross barked over the phone.

Twan made his way to Ross’s crib, ready to serve the 8 ball for a quick $150.00, in which he would give Ross $25.00 for running the sale.

Twan walked into the door and was thrown off of guard when he saw a pretty brown skin female sitting on the couch in Ross’s living room. She was wearing some tight white Levi jeans that hugged and lifted her tight soft round ass making her look so nicely thick and tender, a pink skin tight T-shirt with the word pink on the front, and some white and pink Soulja Reebok’s.

Hey, sweet thang, what’s your name? Twan asked.

Hey what’s up, my name is Vanessa. She replied.

My name is Twan, Twan said looking her up and down. So you want an 8 ball? That’s a lot of soft for a lil one like you, lil mama. I swear you look like you can go for at least 18yrs old, lil one.

Well thanks for the compliment, Twan, but I’m 21 and I’m not coming to get this 8 ball for me. I actually came for a male friend of mines, Vanessa replied.

Well it’s a shame; playboy sent a pretty lil one like you into the belly of the beast to cop him some drugs.

It’s okay, I’m from North Charleston anyway; plus my uncle knows, Ross. Plus my friend isn’t from around here, so it’s cool, Vanessa replied looking at Twan.

Well I tell you wha’. I got the white right cha. I’m going to serve you, but before you leave, you should let me give you my number and I can make it more convenient for you and your homeboy, Twan replied, assuming she was lying about coming to cop for her male friend.

That’s cool with me, Vanessa stated as she handed Twan the $150.00 and took Twan’s cell number.

Twan was light brown skinned, with gold in his mouth-8 to be exact- 4 to the top and 4 to the bottom, 5’9 in height, 170 pounds, and always had the gift to gab when needed; He was laid back and the type of guy that was so easy to get along with and Charismatically alluring so the ladies were always attracted to his swag.

Baby girl was bad as a motherfucker right? Ross asked watching Vanessa through the screen door as she walked back to her car.

Yea, she for sure is, but you know business and pleasure is like water and oil, it don’t mix, ya dig. I’ll rather her open her purse before she lifts her skirt.

I feel you on that note, Twan, now where’s my cut for that 8 ball sale, playboy?

God dam, homey, I got you right cha Twan replied as he placed the $25.00 in Ross’s open hand.

Twan spent most of his days and nights pumping soft on the Macon and various locations North Charleston and downtown Charleston on Strawberry Lane and getting smoked out with Tye, Greg, and Jack. All four of them came from a broken home and were also the only child within the households and that’s what made their friendship and bonds so unique.

Summer of 2010

Chapter 2

Twan, Tye, Greg, and Jack were chilling at the house on Kraft Ave. smoking weed and drinking Hennessey mixed with lemonade under a cool A/C watching time pass by.

Man, I’m stressing like a motherfucker, Twan Stressed to his homeboys taking a pull from the cigar stuffed with gas.

Wha got you so stressed out my dawg? Greg asked, passing the bottle of Hen to Jack.

That nigga probably stressing over one of them hoes, man, Jack jokily stated then took a swing of the Hen.

Never that, babe, Twan replied. I can’t find no white for the last 2 weeks, man, my count getting lower and lower, shit bad enough I took a loss on a dice game Back The Green.

You should cop some x-pills. I got a solid connect if you need it, Greg stated kicking his feet up on the coffee table. Plus Tye got a plug on them Oxy pills too.

Man, mixing wit them pills cool, but it aint nuttin like that soft paper, bra. You can’t cut no pills, so every pill counts. Know wha I’m saying. Twan stated.

Well slow money is better then no money, lil bra, Greg replied taking a toke from the cigar.

You got a point, replied Twan. I just might cop some of them shit. What’s the numbers on them thangs anyway? Twan asked.

Well my folks got em for $2.00 a pill if you buy 1000 of em, replied Greg.

Shit, I don’t think I'm going to need 1000 of them thangs, but I’ll dam sure think about it and see if I can get some fellas lined up to grab some, know wha I’m saying, Twan stated.

Well jus let me know when ya ready, cause you gone need something if you can’t get no white, bra, Greg stated as he passed the blunt to Twan.

Twan was smoking the blunt in deep thoughts, wondering how he would get the pills off if he copped. He knew for sure he would have to hit the club scene in order to build up a clientele for the pills. He didn’t like mixing up in the clubs to much, but knew if he didn’t get any white soon, he would have to start digging into his re-up in order to make it through.

Later on that night Twan and Jack were together chilling Downtown on Strawberry Lane.

Wha you got going on tonight? Twan asked Jack.

Man I’m about to go to dis lil breezy crib on Dingle Street around the corner.  Jack replied. Why what’s up?

I was jus asking. I might go to da strip club or something to help ease my mind, Twan replied.

I would’ve rolled wit ya, bra, but I been trying to chop lil one for a minute now, real talk, Jack stated.

I can dig it, playboy. Just hit me up if things don’t work out.

That I’ll do, my dawg, Jack replied as he left the house.

As soon as Jack left the house Twan hopped into his 2 door candy black Monte Carlo and headed to the strip club called ‘Echelon’ on Ashley Phosphate in North Charleston, solo do-lo.

Twan stepped off in Club Echelon high as a moon and now in the need of some liquor to help him feel even better. He went to the bar ordered a cup of Ciroc mixed with pineapple juice with crushed ice; then gangster strutted to a booth, so he could watch the exotic dancer’s pussy pop and drop it like it’s hot.

Twan was ducked off in the booth with his back to the wall, watching the very sexual and soft on the eyes, beautiful strippers, hypnotize squares; turning their pockets into rabbit ears.

As Twan was back and fourth from the bar to the booth a short sexy fat up dancer, Native American mixed with African American; 28 yrs old with jet black hair that went all the way down to the lower part of her back was watching Twan- being that he was solo and had shades on in the dark club had caught her attention.

Hey there, baby, you wanna lap dance? She asked Twan