Up Against It

Ain’t this some shit. It’s 1:30 in the morning and instead of being home in my own bed (cozy sleeping I might add) probably in a dream state of mind. I found myself walking on 61st and International in East Oakland. Of all places East Oakland. Man this shit is fucked up. My friend Reggie, got robbed out here a week ago at gun point. He was checking out one of his co-workers on 77th and MacAuthur. He got a little tipsy if you know what I mean. He was walking to the bus stop because his car is in the shop. Now some youngster in one of those hoodies that zip all the way up so you cant see his face (Lord knows who invented those) creeps up on him, and tells him, and I both “Run it in brah” with a 44 magnum pointed at his face. Shit the gun was bigger than dude who pulled it. Reggie damn near shit on himself, and gives the youngsta everything, but his clothes. Well not me I ain’t coming out of a damn thing. I may not be from that area, but I was raised in Berkeley where I’m headed now. I do like to roam in east Oakland also. I know the get down, but I had to see Cornisha. That nice booty, big titty, fine looking ghetta ass sister named Cornisha. What the fuck kind of name is that anyway? It sounds like a new bird, or a car without the last letter being an A. well she lives off of 82nd and International so I caught the 82 bus. Why, I don’t have a car at the time. I’ll share that later. Now when I first see her residence I was like Aww-shit a crack house, but once inside it was nice. She was down to earth with a tan skeem going on. She had a four piece couch set, a 38 inch plasma screen with a marble coffee table. Sister had some style so I sat down choppin’ it up about what we want to do with our lives when I hear a baby crying. Cornisha excuses herself. It’s not unusual for a 24 year old woman to have a child so I wasn’t surprised. She came back, and told me that was Lil Twan. I said to myself, where’s big Twan at. We continued our conversation since I felt that Play a instant in me could surpass Little Twizzy, big Twizzy, and who ever. We was into it when her phone rings. She picks it up, says hello, and quickly hangs up, and says wrong number. Wrong number my ass I say to myself. So we began to talk again, only this time we’re inches apart. My arm now is around her shoulder. Then her phone rings, rings, rings, and rings. Until I ask her “are you gonna get that?” So she gets mad and answers it. all of a sudden there was a knock at the door, and someone yelling on the phone. I can’t understand what’s being said. All Cornisha is doing is looking scared as fuck at the door. Me and my big mouth says “Ain’t you going to answer that?” She looks at me as if I asked her to let the devil slap the shit out of her. She don’t say a damn thing, but gets up, and walks toward the door, and says “Who is it?” All you hear is a deep voice like it’s Lurch on the Adams Family Show hollering on the other side of the door saying, “Bitch you know who this is. Let me in.” Cornisha looks at me with that you asked for it look on her face, and opens the door. In comes what I presume is big Twan, and three other brothers like they came straight out of the Raiders locker room. Big yet sorry looking. Now Twan takes one look at me, and starts muggin a brother like I’m an old Denver Bronco fan, or something. I ain’t no sucka so I stand up, and stick my hand out, and say, “”What’s up Bra. I’m Spicy.” This Debo, looking dude doesn’t say shit to me, but turns, and looks at Cornisha. He says “I didn’t know you was sucka-ass-niggas. Nisha, and while yall down here closer than fish to water, is my son taken care of?” Cornisha’s ghetto side comes alive as she says, “D, why you all in my business? You know I take care of Lil Twan. Something you can hardly say. I’m trying to have company here as you can see so could you hurry up, and bounce please.” Twan goes ape shit. “Shut the hell up.” I signaled with my hand since like I said I ain’t no sucka. I then said, “say man do you mind not disrespecting me, and the sister?” Me, and my big mouth with my stupid ass ends it with “could you keep it down so you don’t wake up your son?” Oh you can put your last dollar on Twan being furious. “Sucker who da fuck is you? As a matter of fact I don’t give a fuck, your time is up, and you need to bounce.” It was my turn to get a little angry. Man I ain’t going nowhere unless Cornisha want me to. The nigga must have turned red with furry and he pulled out his new 40 caliber gun, and pointed it at me. I all of a sudden felt the urge to bounce. “Nigga you got about fifteen seconds to get your shit before you cut out. Or you getting ready to get real close to my man forty, and I ain’t talking about the rapper. Shit I was out of that house in five seconds. It would have been three if I didn’t damn near fall leaving the house. So here I am now approaching 43rd and International on foot, because the buses isn’t running this late. Oh yeah, by the way I’m Mike, Green, or Spicy, Mike. This is how I live in the Bay Area if you call this living. I was born and raised by my parents who also raised my brothers, and sisters. I’ve gotten into my share of fights, and had my share of wins and losses, but sometimes I always found myself on the short end of the stick in a lot of situations. Like one time after one of the basketball games the opposing team Oakland Tech’s fans started getting a little bit rowdy outside the school all hell broke loose. It was like Brave Heart out there, but I wasn’t about to be no William Wallace. Hold on I’m on 36th and International now and I see somebody creeping up the sidewalk in a hoodie under a trench coat. Oh! False alarm it’s only a crack head, but I must keep my eye on them too. Back to what I was saying. It was pandemonium outside of Fremont High School and Oakland Tech was getting their ass beat. I saw people being thrown into cars, out of cars. This one guy was getting stomped out by ten people. The shit was crazy. It all finally ended and everybody started really dippin’ (moving in a car) out. When they seen, or heard police with sirens rolling up. I headed on in you feel me. I had lost my main man Tony who lived a block away from me and was by myself. Then I seen a crowd of like six or seven people shooting dice on the corner so I kindly stepped to the side of one of them who shouts out “Yo Bra didn’t I see you at the school. Yeah, yeah now I remember you was that one fool who wasn’t doing shit.” All seven of them looked at me at once, the one who said something to me ran up and before he could do anything I gave him a right hook and a quick left jab and a right hand and he was on the ground. As I turned to run three other dudes caught my jacket. (Damn that leather jacket) They pulled me to the ground and beat the shit out of me. Ain’t that some shit. I get my ass whooped for not fighting with the other school. It wasn’t that I couldn’t fight I just felt it wasn’t my fight. Well they had a different point of view and expressed it physically. I limped away with a swollen eye, a busted lip and about five knots. Three on my head and two on my legs. After that incident I made sure you could see me in every school fight from then on out.