'America got a thing for this gangsta shit, they love me,
Black chuckkas, black skullies, leather Pelle Pelle,
I take spit over raymo shit, I'm a vandal,
Got the silver duct tape on my .38 handle...'
The agressive beat and 50 Cent lyrics hung loud in the air over the busy downtown noise of new york. Subway trains noisily made their way above the solid black top. A pimped out 'Chevy made it's way through the street, blaring the typical gangster hip hop. The constant hum of people below stayed strong. Every now and again there would be some dispute between two dealers or the hot dog guy getting yet another order wrong, again. The same old same. Just another day in the hood.
Beth stood at her apartment window with the stereo blasting. It was the only way she could think. She looked out over the hood. The same old same. Nothing really changed. Occasionally she joined in with the lyrics;
'I want the finer things in my life, so I hustle,
Nigga you get in my way while I'm tryna' get mine, and I'll buck you...'
She continued listening and let 50 Cent's voice (and song; Hustler's Ambition) take her away into a daydream. The flashing lights, the cars, the jewelery, the money, the music. The music. She thought to herself, it's about the music. It may have seemed typical of someone from the hood, but Beth wanted to be a rapper... with a difference. Eventhough she loved hip hop, she wanted change. To give a different view. To tell the truth, not just rap about somebody getting shot up on the block. She wanted it real bad. More than anything else in her whole life. It was in her blood. The need to make it made her body ache constantly. She couldn't live the way she was living anymore. She had to do something about it. She had to stop hustling. It wasn't working anymore.
As Beth's thoughts took complete control of her mind, she didn't hear the door to her apartment open. "Hey, yo". Beth jumped when she heard the voice. She turned around to see her friend Dwight standing by her front door. "You alright?" he said, knowing he surprised Beth when he came in. "Yeah. What are you doing here?" Beth said, finally relaxing after her 'shock'.
"Don't tell me you forgot man!" He said surprised by Beth's reaction. "What?!" Beth replied. "We've got a job tonight! Curtis sent me arly to check up on you. He's worried." Dwight finally explained. "Oh. I remember now. The Buck Bank job. I'm not sure. It don't feel right." Beth expressed her doubts.
"A job never feels right! Man, come with me, let's go chill. You look like you need some food. Damn dog, you can't be a skinny nigga here in New York!" he said laughing. Beth joined in. She made her way over to the couch and sat down. She then reached for her white and red Jordan's that were on the floor. She laced them up and stood up. "Let's go" She said as she grabbed her apartment keys. "Don't even think about reaching for those car keys aswell, you need to walk and get some air." Dwight said as they walked out of Beth's apartment. "Dwight!" Beth said laughing. "What?! You my homie! That's what I do!" he said also laughing.