Money is God

By Brian Harrison

Money is God. Why? Because we kill for money in the name of Satan. We also pray for money in the name of God.

I'm sure my title, Money is God, will be both lauded and assailed, but one thing's for sure and that is money is necessary. For example, those who have little to no money also lack the opportunities that come with havin

• Language: English
• Publisher: Bald Boss Media
• Release date: Apr 15, 2022
• ISBN: 9798985990409

Brian Harrison

I'm a Southwestern Michigan resident and grocery clerk for over a decade, being trained in nearly every position. I am a grocery manager by day, musician, writer, tie collector, and Oreo enthusiast by night.

Book preview

1 - On The Ave

On a warm summer day in 1991, at 16th Street and Susquehanna Avenue in North Philadelphia, cars filled with happy shoppers navigate down the narrow and crowded avenue, then pull over to park as the #39 bus goes by. The sidewalk is filled with old and young faces going up and down the avenue, eager to spend their money with local merchants.

Meanwhile, a group of young men are clustered together on the side of Susquehanna Avenue, which is known as The Ave. One of the young men in this group was named Destiny — a young hustler from South Philadelphia who had moved to North Philly after getting a body (meaning he had killed someone) somewhere around 17th and Federal.

Destiny acquired his wealth by committing robberies, some strong-arm, but mostly armed. Destiny was known for having big knots of cash. He also had a reputation for slinging dick to young bucks; and the young girls in the neighborhood said it was good.

Hey, Destiny, said a pretty, young, brown-skinned girl as she walked by him.

Hey, baby, Destiny said in a cool-ass voice, hoping to slide some game to this smooth-skinned cutie.

The young lady who had caught Destiny’s attention was named Trina, but she was nicknamed Shorty because of her short temper and lack of tolerance for bullshit games.

Shorty was a tight, athletic-shaped girl who lived right off Susquehanna Avenue on a burnt-out block named Bancroft Street, which had a reputation for getting doe. On a block like that, the neighbors normally get turned out on drugs; but throughout all the adversity which young Trina had grown up in, she used her wits along with her knowledge of the streets to keep herself clean.

Destiny knew of Trina’s impoverished background, but he still admired her style and strength. Although her whole family was addicted to crack cocaine, young Trina never entertained the least thought to use it, and as a matter of fact, she always stayed in style.

Destiny was bull, as we called them in Philadelphia. This meant that he was a self-made man, and at times his demeanor was smooth. Destiny was cool like that. The type of nigga who would help your grandmother with her groceries or show you the utmost respect, but would also kill you the instant you crossed him.

Besides that, Destiny was a romantic, who had a thing for Shorty because he loved fly girls and he thought Shorty was beautiful, yet tough, and a little game went a long way.

Now, six months later when Shorty walks down Susquehanna Avenue, everyone knows that Shorty is Destiny’s girl and surely as time passed, Destiny decided to move Shorty to his apartment for two reasons. The first was because Destiny was starting to fall in love with young Trina and secondly because gifts that Destiny would give Shorty eventually disappeared from her home.

Baby, can you make me a sandwich? I’m hungry, said Destiny. As they sat in their one-bedroom apartment on Erie Avenue in North Philadelphia, Shorty scrambled to the kitchen and hooked her man up a grub. She truly admired and respected Destiny and Destiny loved her, too.

Would you like me to make your sandwich adding these? asked Shorty in a seductive, yet playful tone as she revealed her caramel titties above the bread.

Don’t even worry. I’m gonna hook you up, Shorty said as she squeezed a tube of mustard.

Uhm, this is a fat one, she moaned as she shook the mustard up and down pretending like she was jerking Destiny’s sledgehammer. Shorty’s ass was so plump and juicy and her curvaceous legs were like black butter. Her shoes were exotic. Shorty loved to wear Louis Vuitton leather boots and exclusive Italian brands which accentuated Shorty’s femininity. Destiny loved it because it would make Shorty’s legs, ass and tits pop out even more. Which would easily make his dick get hard.

Destiny counted fresh hundred dollar bills on the floor until he had a nice stack of ten thousand dollars. He was very pleased with himself because of the amount of money he had taken from his previous armed-robbery job.

From the kitchen, Shorty spoke in a nasty, sexually inviting tone about the tender beef she was adding to Destiny’s bread. Baby, I’m gonna add some extra spicy meat ‘cause I like it spicy, Shorty said giggling, suggesting that her vagina was already wet, and she needed the meat. So my man’s spicy meat can be strong — big and strong, for me, she continued.

Destiny finally acknowledged Shorty’s hint as he closed his safe, walked over, and grabbed the sandwich from Shorty’s hand. Destiny stuffed his dick deep and directly into Shorty’s hot-box pussy, holding her firm and near, where he could feel her heartbeat in his hand and her pulse throb on his dick.

Destiny snuck in underneath Shorty’s dress where she was without panties, making it easy for Destiny to fuck her good. Destiny walked Shorty to the bed with his dick still between her legs. As he grabbed the back of her neck, he plunged his hard pipe balls deep into her drip-drip juicy, baby-making, cookie jar vagina.

He loved to fuck and cum inside of her over and over again. And yes, she loved it, too. When he mounted her he loved to show her that he was a man. He would thrust deeply into Shorty’s warm, soft, wet walls until his balls would smack her asshole red.

With every thrust of masculinity Destiny delivered, shorty’s pussy got wet and wetter causing her legs to begin shivering with pleasure and excitement. Cream surrounded his dick and balls like lather as Shorty came multiple times soaking the bed with cum. The bed frame shook with a magnitude as the neighbors listened uncomfortably from the first-floor apartment below.

Shorty’s moans were loud and could be heard throughout the building. She couldn’t control herself. She was a slave to dick and Destiny was the master who fucked her as a grown man should. Hot skeet from Destiny landed on Shorty as he pulled his penis out of her well-fucked throbbing vagina, as he lay back on the bed with sandwich still in hand, he took one bite and with internal relief said, Damn, baby, now that was the best sandwich I ever ate.

✦ ✦ ✦

In North Philadelphia on Susquehanna Avenue, action flourished with hustlers, bars, crap games, niggas battling, and shit. A young, light-skinned, bearded man named Pud had a barbershop between 16th and 17th Street, directly on the strip, and across from the barbershop there was a Chinese store, where Hustlers used to post up at, and next to the Chinese store was a nail salon, where motherfuckers used to rent rooms upstairs on the top floor.

That’s where a lot of shit used to pop off at. You could run into a female you were fucking with going into a room with another man while you were going into a room with another bitch. Shit, it was crazy. But seeing that we were young, dumb, full of cum and getting money, the avenue was the shit. Yes, the avenue was the shit.

100X, a Philadelphia rap group’s music could be heard from the radio of Destiny’s car. Ooh that’s my song, said Shorty.

As Destiny and Shorty rode down the avenue to cop some dope from Jimmy, What’s up, Jimmy? said Destiny.

Oh, I’m cool, said Jim.

What’s up, Shorty? said Jim glancing deeply into Shorty’s eyes.

Hi, Jimmy, said young Trina, flashing a smile.

Oh, Jimmy cool; replied Jimmy. I got everything you need.

Don’t do that, said Destiny.

Oh I’m just fucking with you, said Jimmy.

No, you ain’t fucking with me, said Destiny and Destiny peeled, meaning he accelerated quickly from a parked position and pulled off fast, sending the smoke from burnt rubber in the air, thinking to himself, How dare this nigga flirt with my main bitch right in front of me?

So what’s up with that motherfucker? You still love him or what? yelled Destiny from inside the car.

No, Destiny, I love you, replied Shorty.

Destiny thought of the movie, Scarface. I never liked that guy, as he looked at her with cold eyes. Not a word was spoken as they drove down the avenue and off the strip.

Jimmy had shit popping, and ladies were often attracted to him. He was a tall, light-skinned black man who had traveled throughout Europe, Japan, and the Islands. His clothes were always a step above the other hustlers, and his vocabulary reflected his intelligence.

From ages 18 to 25, he had made several appearances on television and had aspirations of being a star, but he had never made it out of the ghetto. He used hustling as his financial tool; this was his way of staying above the rest. He used the money he made to buy his toys and to support his cocaine-snorting habits. Yeah.

Dog, said Jimmy, there’s got to be another way, as he spoke to his companion, Black.

Another way to do what? said Black.

To make money, Dog. I mean I love the money, but the stress, man, the stress, and the hustle. I want to change my life, but I don’t want to go broke.

Then hustle, nigga, said his companion, Black.

Jimmy looked at life from the simplistic to the most complex way, with an unorthodox view. His travels had given him a different outlook on the world than his companions who had