Lyfe: The Hard Way

By Darnell Roberts

Born and raised on the tough streets of West Baltimore, Lyfe Jenkins tries to keep his heroin operation afloat while having to deal with his treacherous competitors and narcotics detectives all gunning for his head. It’s a maze he has to deal with each day he steps foot outside his front door to make ends meet. Trickery, deceit, and murder come with the game in this part of the city as Lyfe handles it as a seasoned veteran in the drug game. Lyfe has been dealt a hand of misfortune as he is hit with a stiff sentence he has to serve in the Maryland State Penitentiary at such a young age for his illicit activities on the streets. There, he continues his business and meets someone on the inside who assists him with regaining his freedom, but at a cost. Read on as you will not set this book down from all the action and intrigue you’ll find on each page. Truly a must-read.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Jul 8, 2019
• ISBN: 9781796042160

Book preview

CHAPTER 1

It was a beautiful summer day and the strip was jumping. Lyfe smiled as he took an approximate count of how many fiends were out to cop his fresh product that he’d just put on the streets this morning. People came from miles around to cop his product, knowing his was the best heroin in the city. On days like today, shop only ran for a few hours. Lyfe knew good dope attracts major people from all over and when niggas gather in one place it attracts unwanted heat.

Mad Dog turned onto Litchfield Ave. as he slowly crept down the street searching for runners. Mad Dog was this selfproclaimed super hero type narc who loved putting the chase down. Whether it was on foot or in his car, it didn’t matter to him. He loved the excitement of busting niggas from the Heights. Hell bent on looking the part, after several plastic surgeries, along with purchasing a red with white stripe Grand Torino, an exact replica of the Starsky & Hutch TV version car; he looked and played the part of Michael Glaiser’s role of Starsky on the 80’s hit television show, Starsky & Hutch. Out to catch hustlers slipping so he could find a stash of blow for himself or turn a hardcore hustler into a snitch, he drove and watched everyone’s move on the strip. It didn’t make a difference who got knocked because either was cool for him, whether it was getting the blow or turning a snitch, it was all good for Mad Dog.

As he approached Arcadia Ave., midway to hitting the strip, Lyfe saw the Ford approaching and made a mad dash to the nearest alley. Five-0 - Five-0… Hearing this sent the entire strip into an uproar. Niggas began scattin’ and jumping fences trying to hit the alleyways where safety was damn near guaranteed from being caught. Seeing Lyfe make the first move, Mad Dog mashed the gas and made a bee line toward him. He knew the first to break was holdin’ or something else worth running for.

Double parked in front of Mr. Elliot’s corner confectionary store where all the neighborhood residents made it their business to stop and purchase a pack of Newports, or just to place a quarter in one of the three video game machines he had inside while waiting on sales to be made, Mad Dog and his cronies hopped out and left all four doors wide open as they began rounding up anyone they could catch. He made it his business to go after Lyfe because he knew there was something in that catch. Little did he know at the time, Lyfe was on the run for a murder charge. Knowing what he faced if caught, the last thing he wanted was to add his name to the list of niggas who were placed in the Maryland Penitentiary and left for dead. Lyfe was never a snitch, nor would he become one. He had heard all about the Maryland Penitentiary and how long the men resided there. He wasn’t going to be one of those statistics. With that thought in mind, he put his burners on and started jumping fences in the back alleys as he headed down to Woodland Ave. There, he knew his safety would be guaranteed as he fled on foot. Mad Dog was fast but not faster than Lyfe.

Besides, Lyfe had more to lose in the chase if caught.

As he made his way to Beehler Ave., he had placed a good distance between himself and the narcs that were after him. Just one more block to safety he thought. Out of eyesight of the narc chasing him, he reached into his dip and pulled the nine millimeter semi-automatic handgun out and stashed it at the corner house where Keith once lived. This is when he heard shots rang out behind him as he fell to the ground wondering what was happening.

CHAPTER 2

It was 3:30am when Lyfe heard the C.O. yelling for everyone to get ready for breakfast. Shit on a shingle was this morning’s meal. Lyfe was sweating profusely as he realized he was having another bad dream. It was one of the many he had that tormented his soul since Tee had snitched him out in court.

Lyfe had it made uptown. He worked for one of the biggest hustlers that ever walked the streets of Baltimore. Little was giving him so much dope that he began sending some of it to niggas he knew down the Lexington Terrace projects. That’s where dope was sold in abundance on a daily basis all hours of the day. The niggas there sold dope on a whole different level than niggas up Park Heights. Don’t get it twisted, Lyfe moved an enormous amount of product where he lived but the projects were just another planet when it came to moving heroin. The difference was he had raw dope taking a forty cut that was found nowhere else in the entire city.

Lyfe didn’t go to breakfast this morning. Shit on a shingle was not one of his favorite meals. He preferred mornings where there were syrup and pancakes, or even waffles. Those were the mornings when everyone went to eat. Fresh from being found guilty of first degree murder, Lyfe was awaiting sentencing as he was housed on M-Section at the Baltimore City Jail. M-Section was part of the jail where all high bails, no bails, and murderers were kept while you were waiting for your court date. There was so much money and drugs flowing on M-Section that no one could sell any product there. Dope and weed was given away freely by all the big shots from the city that slept on this section. There was so much dope on deck that niggas were always trying to outdo the next to prove his status by giving it away. No one really cared about the overdoses that were frequent there, not even the correctional officers. M-Section was a place for them where they could come and cop without having to worry about standing on a street corner in the city and deal with the possibility of being knocked by one of the undercovers that cruise the streets on a regular basis.

There were no beefs whatsoever on M-Section. Everyone got along there. If you had beef with someone on the streets, that’s where the beef stayed. If there was beef it was put on hold until and niggas would deal with it at a later date. East Baltimore niggas had no problem with niggas from West Baltimore, vice versa. Magic, Yoskie, Fats, and Levi were all major playas from the east side. Those niggas were taking down real heavy in the early eighties. Little, myself, and a few other cats were holding it down for the west side. Little was so major we really didn’t need anyone else to represent because he was like a fucking Don with the shit he made happen.

Morning recreation was called and instead of going out to hoop, Lyfe went up to holla at Little. He had sent word to Lyfe that he wanted to holla at him as soon as everyone went out for morning rec. As soon as everyone left for the yard that morning, Lyfe went to Little’s cell to see what was on his mind. As soon as he approached the cell, Little invited him in and asked him to grab a seat. Hey there my man, how’s everything with you? All is well, said Lyfe. Good… good…, said Little. I asked you to come holla at me because I have a question for you. What is it? asked Lyfe. What I want to ask you is why didn’t you mention to me that Tee was on your indictment papers? I don’t know, I guess it never crossed my mind. Also, I was so bent on my lawyer telling me the case was weak and beating it would be a cinch for him. He even told me he would get an acquittal in the case and I’d be back on the streets before I knew it. I just didn’t think anything of it. Look here Lyfe. Never put your trust in these lawyers today without putting in some work of your own. I hate to tell you this, but this is where you failed. You made a lot of money on the streets and you are going to be missed by many. Had I known Tee was on your indictment papers, I could have assisted you in more ways than one. Now what’s done is done and you’re now facing some serious time. I sent for you to tell you never to give up on your case. Although you were found guilty, that doesn’t mean it’s the end. The battle has only begun. The courts are always fucking up in these cases and I’m sure yours is no exception. Fight this to the end and you will see the streets again before you know it. The streets need niggas like you out there because you’re one of a kind. You just remember not to give up in your situation and keep your guard up at all times.

Another reason for asking you up here was because my lawyers told me you were questioned by Mad Dog as he tried flipping you against me. I even know you told them to get the fuck out of your face because you’re not snitching on anyone. Even when you were offered a deal in your murder case to testify against me, you stood firm on your principles and remained silent. You proved yourself to me to be as loyal as they come. Knowing this and not assisting you with the Tee issue bothers me greatly. I share this with you to let you know I’m going to make out in this kingpin case against me. As soon as I touch down in the streets again, I will be there for you with whatever it is you may need. That’s my word! Take that to heart and don’t ever forget it. Thanks Little I truly appreciate your concern and if ever I need you I most certainly won’t hesitate to call.

On that note, Lyfe left the cell wishing he would have shared the Tee issue with him earlier. He knew if he had let Little know that Tee was on his indictments, Tee wouldn’t be here today.

Tee was real cool with this cut up muscular dude named Lance. They were inseparable and you rarely ever saw one without the other. Few people knew that both were homo-thugs fronting to be hard. They did everything together. Everything… They played ball, smoked coke, snorted blow, and those behind the door secrets that not many other people knew about. Lyfe couldn’t believe that these two clowns were trying to shake him down for some of Little’s money that he wasn’t even thinking of parting with. Of all the nerve, here they were telling Lyfe that he had to pay them $10,000, or he couldn’t sell blow on the strip he was raised on. These two niggas must have smoked some serious coke because not only was he going to continue using that corner as his bread and butter strip, he wasn’t going to give these two clowns shit. They told Lyfe he had a week to think about it and they would return soon for the payment.

In no way whatsoever was Lyfe a slouch. He played with guns as if they were the only toys he ever possessed. More so, at the ripe age of fifteen he already had three bodies that he and only one other person knew about. That individual was recently killed by the narcs up on the Ranch during a drug sting. These two homo-thug niggas were getting themselves into something they really didn’t want a part of.

CHAPTER 3

Lyfe woke up several mornings with these bad dreams. The dreams were coming on more and more as his sentencing date neared. He would be sentenced to life plus twenty years in the Maryland State Penitentiary for the murder he was convicted of. Thanks to the testimony of Tee, Lyfe would never see the streets again.

Returning from court this afternoon, they didn’t even allow him to enter the jail. He wanted to holla at a few of Baltimore’s finest playas that remained in the City Jail where he was now leaving. The C.O.’s kept him on the transportation van while they entered the jail to retrieve his belongings. Lyfe was then transferred to the Maryland State Penitentiary located on Forrest Street. There, he would reside for many years to come.

Back at the courthouse, Tee was being ushered to Judge Johnson’s courtroom where he received a suspended sentence for a drug distribution charge he received prior to testifying against Lyfe. His case was postponed pending the outcome of Lyfe’s. Tee was knocked off by Mad Dog down on Pennsylvania and Gold St. He only had two vials of crack in his pocket. Once the crack was discovered, Mad Dog asked him did he want to help himself out on the charge he was about to receive. Absolutely not, the homo-thug said. Imagine that! After he was booked and sent to City Jail where he couldn’t even post a $10,000 bail, with his one phone call he called the homicide detectives downtown at Central Headquarters. Tee was about to do something big.

Downtown Homicide Division, Detective Miller speaking, how can I assist you? Yes, I’m being held at the Baltimore City Jail on a simple drug distribution charge and I want to know if you can get me out of this charge if I gave you some information on a murder I witnessed? Well, I can’t make you any promises but if you give me all of your information my partner and I can make a trip over to the jail first thing in the morning where we can discuss what it is you have knowledge of.

The very next morning, Tee turned in his prison identification number in exchange for confidential informer number NVI-945. This is the sole number he would ever be remembered by.

CHAPTER 4

The following week, both Lance and Tee approached Lyfe as he watched his workers push the many bags of heroin on the block they grew up playing on. What’s up Lyfe, my nigga? Have you thought about the offer we presented to you last week? Yeah man, I gave it some thought. Well, what’s the deal playa? These two punk ass niggas really got the game fucked up, Lyfe thought to himself. Well man, as I see it, if I gave you the dough you’re asking for, then you’d be back around next week wanting more. Isn’t that how it supposed to go? said Lance. Well, if I gave into that, who knows what may happen after that. You two fag ass niggas probably would start asking me to hang out with your bitch asses and I just can’t have that. Surely it would ruin my reputation, said Lyfe. So all I have to say now is you two play gangsta ass, homo-thug, father fuckers, better get the fuck off this strip before that young nigga over there across the street leave your two asses laying there where you now stand. Oh, there’s one more thing, if I ever see you two bitch ass niggas around here again I’m going to take that as an act of aggression, and I won’t be so kind again as I am today. Do I make myself clear to you? Okay Lyfe. It’s your call homie and we’ll be seeing you around soon. Yeah, yeah… get the fuck off this strip before I change my mind about you two fag ass niggas.

After his brief meeting with these two fake clowns, Lyfe went on about his daily routine. Had he raised his right hand to his eyebrow, the young nigga posted up on the porch right across from where he stood would have unloaded a barrage of bullets in the direction of these two punks who called themselves shaking someone down. Lyfe was so glad it didn’t have to come to that. He didn’t like leaving bodies where he played. He was more bent on chasing paper than leaving bodies everywhere. Now he didn’t have a problem with the matter at all, he just liked money more and killed only when he had to. However, he didn’t see these two clowns as a threat and allowed them to live to see another day. Where the fuck did they get off thinking they could shake me down. I should have had those clowns murked just on principle.

After the clown show, business began booming for the day. It was only four o’clock in the evening and all the fiends started crowding the strip in search of the eighty dollar bags of heroin that flooded the streets of this Park Heights neighborhood. Little made sure that Lyfe had an abundance of dope to push for him and this is something Lyfe loved doing all his entire young life. Fucking with Little, the supply was endless.

CHAPTER 5

What’s up Lyfe? Turning his head to see who was speaking to him, he noticed it was one fine chocolate sister and he had no idea who she was. Hey, what’s up Shorty? he replied. Nothing much. Me and my girl here are a little short and we were hoping we could get some of that good blow for the fifty dollars we have. I’m sorry baby girl, but just as you stated, the blow is good and besides, these bags are eighty dollars each. I truly wish I could assist you but we’re not taking any shorts today. Aw, come on Lyfe, we’ll make it up to you if you know what I mean. Sorry baby girl, I can’t help you there. You’re going to have to come up with it all or just miss out on something really good. Just as Lyfe said that, two niggas in gold chains walked up and gave Lyfe the firm hand shake he was accustomed to receiving from them. These two were flat foot hustlers from down the bottom of Park Heights. They always travelled on foot and left Lyfe a thousand dollars with each hand