The Yard

By JMarquis

Ida Yarbrough projects, “the Yard,” in Albany, New York, was known to be a dangerous area. The young gangsters who controlled “the Yard” experienced maneuvering through the ghetto’s many elements, which could never be understood unless you’ve experienced the hood life. The Yard is an electrifying, realistic, fictional story that explores the good, the bad, and the ugly realities of life in the streets. So sit back, get your favorite drink, and get ready for a real nigga lesson.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Page Publishing, Inc.
• Release date: Dec 28, 2021
• ISBN: 9781662445064

Book preview

Bang-Bang Rush

Mac was only thirteen, stood five feet, eleven inches, with the build and the look of the famous rapper 50 Cent. Most people believed he was at least twenty. He came out of the trap house in the back of the yard, and it was now some time after one in the afternoon, and he thought to himself how he didn’t go to school that day and how his mother couldn’t care less. She was most likely in her apartment getting high or trying to get high, so he brushed off the thought and headed through the complex to see what he was finna get into.

It was a sunny day, and like always, the hood was full of life. Old heads worked out on the flat bench in front of Ozzie’s apartment. Older broads that used to fuck everything in sight were out and about acting bougie now that they have kids, looking fine as hell. Crackheads wondering around like zombies from the walking dead. The smell of a grill made Mac take a deep inhale as he made his way to the middle of the hood. In the middle of the yard, there is a teen center, a park, and the big parking lot that’s surrounded by many apartments. There was a dice game going on in front of this broad Cassandra’s crib. Cassandra was cool; the squad would always post up in and in front of her apartment even though her crackhead mama would always beef about it. She didn’t really care because niggas were serving her, plus giving her work on the humble, but she always had something to say when we got deep.

Who got bank? Mac said to the crowd of his homeboys as he walked up. The way Bugga, Shot, Thirty8, and Cream were all smiles, and how Grand had his fitted clenched in his hand with an intense look on his face, it was clear that he had the bank and niggas was poppin’ his pockets. Mac slapped five with his niggas and placed a side bet with Cream as Thirty8 threw the dice. One of the dice rolled in a crack, and niggas started riffin’ how it was a four or a six. Grand, who was a lot older than everyone, got tight and kicked the dice. That’s the type of shit that could get a nigga killed. These niggas started laughing and teasing the old head at how he was mad because he got popped.

Twist this seven grams, Bugga said as he threw a dutch and some sour to Mac.

Fuck outta here, you twist that bullshit, Mac said, throwing the bud back and pulling out an ounce of haze.

Nah, bro, put that shit away. We g’tting high on Grand shit today, one of the hitters said again, teasing the old head because he lost so badly in the dice game. The group of brothers stood around and smoked blunts and hittin’ licks fein after fein. The way crackheads were flowing through the projects, you would have thought it was the first of the month. Before you could notice the middle of the hood was flooded with people. At the end of the parking lot, old man D was washing and detailing cars. He’s a crackhead as well, but everyone around the hood showed him respect because he takes care of his family by washing neighborhood cars. Hoodrats strutted around, trying to get chosen by any street nigga. The bro Gunna had his car parked, music bumpin’ the last Lil Wayne CD loud as fuck. Boyt! What’s shaking, fam! exclaimed Hobble as he came to the crowd of yard niggas that now was twenty deep.

Ya belly fat, fat boy, responded Ayo, throwing two light punches to Hobble’s side. Hobble got his name because of the way he walked. He was five feet, six inches and looked like Big Worm from the movie Friday. Everyone loved Hobble. He didn’t trap at all, and he worked nine-to-five and went to church every Sunday but got busy in the street. It’s been rumored that he smoked a nigga in his Sunday best, then went to church and preached about stopping the violence.

Don’t come over here with no Jehovah Witness pamphlet, joked Shot. Shot was sixteen years old, with a full beard. He had a husky build, like the late famous rapper Heavy D. He was the first to get a girl pregnant out of the crew. Till this day, he’s still making babies. Niggas was chilling, entertaining the hood hoes, when this thick redbone chick came walking past. She was wearing some leggings that made her ass and hips stretch.

Damn! Shawty, come here! Niggas was tripping over this bitch. Her ass was so fat that even chicks looked at it. Shorty walked past, smiling and saying hello, then she got ghetto as hell, saying, Cream, come on, nigga. I ain’t come down here to be standing outside! Everybody’s jaw dropped because this sexy bitch just called the ugliest blackest nigga in the hood. Cream G skipped from Casandra’s porch, smiling, pants sagging, to catch up to this broad, then the two of them dipped off. Lord knows he better put that work in on that pussy, or somebody else in the hood would.

It was after eight o’clock, and niggas were getting hungry, so they ordered Chinese food from Panda’s. While they waited, the air was filled by the smell of a cake being baked. Mac’s young ass had to be the one to follow the scent. He found himself in front of a hot freshly baked red velvet cake sitting on the stovetop in Cassandra’s apartment. Without thinking, he cut a big piece of the cake and walked out onto the porch. The second they saw Mac eating cake, they rushed in Cassandra’s kitchen. Everyone was stuffing their face with cake. Cassandra’s mother, Wanna, came out mad as fuck, yelling Ain’t nobody say y’all can have no cake, I made that for the kids! Y’all ain’t even save none! She went into the kitchen and came back onto the porch holding the empty dish where the cake once was. One of y’all niggas gotta go to the store and buy my kids some cake, Wanna bitched.

Trip, out of nowhere, says Mac, cut the cake, so Mac gotta get the cake. Niggas ain’t shit because before Mac could defend himself, everyone started saying how Mac did it, it was Mac’s fault, and he said the cake was for the gang. Now Cassandra always thought of Mac as the little badass nigga he was, and had heard about all the trouble he was getting into, but she only dealt with him because he was from the hood. She started going ham on the little homie Mac. She threw the dish at Mac, and everyone began to roar with laughter.

Y’all niggas ain’t even right, Mac told his friends as Wanna slammed the screen door. At that point, he made a mental note to get her a cake when he got around to it. Eleven o’clock came fast, and after the Chinese food came, it was devoured. Many of the crew members made their way back to slinging in the complex or made their way back to the trap house. It was a Friday night, and these fly young niggas wanted to party, and since Thirty8 was the party animal, he ran through a list of parties he knew about.

There’s a party on Elberon, them shits be lit. There’s another on Livi, saying that bitch so and so throwing. There’s also one on the O and another on the Duce. They decided to go to the party on the top of Livi, then go to the O. Everybody stashed their guns, and the gangstas hopped into a Buick that was a rental. Niggas had a rule that when they went out partying, only one gun could go for the ride. This was a smart rule because there was always some nigga hating on the yard niggas. That would mean there would always be someone getting shot. This was our way of limiting the possibility of getting into some bullshit.

Riding five deep in the all-black Regal, this group of young wild niggas drove up Livi, heading towards the house party. It was nice out, and there was a lot of people driving and walking on every block we passed. Yo! Bugga, pull over at the store, Mac said from the back seat. I gotta get some dutches and condoms. Trip then told Mac to get him three packs of Trojans as he got out of the car and entered the Arab store. There were two women fighting inside of the store. A rack of zebra cakes, honey buns, donuts, muffins, and pound cakes were knocked over while this heavy light-skinned woman put paws on this skinny lady. The skinny bitch was some type of sexy, but she was getting her ass whipped. Several people were trying to break up the fight, but these bitches were getting their Ronda Rousey on, and Mac continued on to get a ten pack of magnums and two five packs of dutches, then headed back to the Regal. Bugga drove back into traffic to head towards the party. While in traffic, Mac handed out two condoms to each of his boys and kept two for himself, thinking now the party was definitely going to be jumping. Uptown had mad trap up there. Trap is a bitch that ain’t got a problem getting fucked in the trap house. The reason we didn’t plan on going to this party is because it’s uptown. Ya see, uptown niggas and the yard niggas could never get along. Uptown niggas hated the yard niggas for being fly and cocky, and niggas always wanted beef. That’s why so many of them were artwork or on T-shirts. Those niggas were getting smoked so much it was joked that uptown families reused candles and bottles at their memorials.

There was a big crowd of teenagers in front of this white house on Livi, and as the Regal got closer, music could be heard blaring from the home. Oh my god, the party was so packed that it was pouring with people outside. There were herds of bitches out there, many of them familiar from high school, and others we ain’t never seen before. Bugga pulled up right in front of the house and rolled the window down. Mac, sitting right behind Bugga, rolled his window down as well to get a better view. Bugga called over this chick he used to dick down, named Ashley. She and two other friends walked over to the car very happy. Hey, sexy, what it’s looking like? Bugga asked.

Ashley said hello to everyone, then responded to his question by saying, Them niggas in there waiting on y’all. Talking stupid, bout if y’all come to the party it’s going down.

The short dark-skinned big-titty bitch that was with Ashley said, I’m outta here if y’all getting out.

Nah, ma, go enjoy yourself. Better yet, when you ready to have a private party, hit my line, Mac said as he gave his number to the board. Thirty8, sitting in the passenger seat, cocking a Mac 11, said to the car of his boys, Them niggas know we here. Noticing that the front door of the house was now full of niggas emerging with conehead hoodies on, Mac, thirsty to smoke someone, said, Give me that shit, it’s on.

Bugga and Rugga, the more rational gangsters in the car, said, Nah, we outs here. The girls said their goodbyes and told them to be safe, and headed back to the party. The Regal was off, back into traffic, heading towards the O. Upon parking down the street from the party on Sheridan, groups of half-dressed women were everywhere. All five young niggas exited the car, gold chains swinging. They were getting mad love from the niggas and bitches. See, niggas on the O were broke and hungry, but had a few niggas in their situation that put pain in on the streets. Yard niggas was aight with them only because they put work on the uptown niggas too. It was almost impossible getting inside the house with so many people on the stairs. Soulja Boy She got a donk had booty shaking the place. When the DJ saw us come in the doorway, he shouted the crew out, saying, Oh shit, the yard is in the motherfucking building. Trip, keep ya light-skinned ass away from my bitch, laughing over the music. The brothers found a nice corner in the dining room and began to enjoy the scenery as they rolled and passed a blunt. Mac and Bugga