If only I had the peace of mind to walk the streets knowing that no one is after me, life would be so much easier. But here in Harlem no one's safe, not even the police because everyone knows it's the gangs that run shit.
Ever since I was a child my brother had been the leader of the Harlem Hoodies a well known gang that ran Grove Street, but after his death things started to go down the drain and it was my turn to take over the throne and seek revenge on those that killed Biggie. It isn't easy but overtime I got used to it. Having to keep the crew alive, keeping them motivated and treating them like a family. No one really knows how Biggie was killed because everyone who was with him was killed as well.
I know for sure it had something to do with Cesar Toreno leader of the El Diablo's, the Spanish gang operating over on Lolita Court.
It's been nearly a month now and there has been no bloodshed. For once that's something pleasant to hear, but it's not over.
The El Diablo's are planning some big shit I can feel it, Hell! Even my crew can feel it. Tonight at around 10pm the crew and I are planning to get some cars together and roll by El Diablo territory to see what's cooking. But for now I'm going over to my boy Emmett's house to grab some supplies for tonight.
I'm lucky the caddie has kept up with me through these rough times, because here in Harlem were now well into autumn and the weather tends to get pretty nippy if you don't have a heater in your car.
As I pull up to Emmett's house and get...