Amateur Hour! The Block Gets Hot

Family! What's good? Your Hustleman had an up and down day today, but I'm feeling great. I sincerely hope you'll (ya'll?) are doing well. I had scheduled a different post for you today, but in light of recent events, I had to let you all know what happened today.

I arrived at the block on time. It was hot outside too. More humid then anything else. I expected a slow day today. It's wednesday for one and smart people are putting money up for rents and mortgages. I was focused but relaxed as always. I thought it would have been an average day of me running my mouth piece to the locals and my hustling partners, but it didn't turn out that smooth.

Not too long after I pulled in to set up shop, New York shows up with a couple of his people. We conversate on the usual... money, females and people that piss you off, i.e. dumb niggas. About 15 minutes after that, Mike shows up. He's a fellow hustler. He shows up from time to time. He always shows mad love so New York and I didn't trip on him showing up. And about 15 minutes after that New York had some other business to attend to, so he left with his boys. Mike and I chopped it up for a sec and we got on to focusing on work.

Now I respect Mike, he's an effective hustler, although I don't agree with his methods. At least not at my spot. My spot is a little tricky, you really can't be all out with your shit, feel me? You need to kind of play the low brow game. But this dude doesn't. I've checked him on this before but he never made attempts to correct it. So I left it alone. He's already been locked up for doing things the way he does, so you think a dude would learn something. No, not really. Damn us hustlers are some hard-headed peoples. Most of the time that's good thing, but it does have it's drawbacks. Now peep this.

Mike had products out all over the place, plus he's yelling through the parking lot. I'm playing the low brow game in the shade on the wall. A couple people walk up to Mike's vehicle to see what he has to sell and out of the corner of my eye to the left I see a Georgia State Patrol car. Damn! I yell out a couple of Yo's to get his attention. He doesn't hear shit. Probably because his customer just happens to be a fine looking sister. I can't just walk up on this dude because then I'll be tagged by the state trooper you follow? The State Patrol does a circle and pulls their car right in front of his and parks. Damn! I sit back and watch the whole scene play out. Now in my mind I know the State Patrol can't directly do anything to Mike, but they can get someone to do something to Mike. By this time Mike is aware of what's going on so he plays it cool and continues to speak to the female at his car, he hit's mack pose and plays it off. The female follows suite. Smart female, she knows the time, she didn't get nervous, flinch, run-off or anything funny acting, she just keeps talking like nothin is nothin.

I wait and soon the trooper pulls away. I walk towards Mike to tell him to cool out for a second and that's when out of nowhere the trooper pulls back around, this time behind Mike's car. Damn! the trooper went on to ask what is it exactly Mike is selling. He tells her (yes a she, a black woman) but her reply was that she thinks he's selling something else... aka narcotics. He shakes his head no and she said something to the effect of he better not be and drives off. I make sure she leaves this time and I approach Mike.

"So what do you think about that?" he asks me. I told him I'm not quite sure, but I wasn't feeling her tone or her attitude. He wasn't either. He shakes his head and says I should get away from him because he's hot right now. This was a joke so we both laughed it off. "She really thinks you're a dope boy." I said. He just replied, "Come on, did that girl at my car look like she uses dope?" We laughed again. I then told him to be careful and to watch out because that trooper had him on camera. If you didn't know, state troopers have cameras attached to either the dashboard or near the rear view mirror of their vehicles. She parked in front of him and all that was caught on camera. And I made one last point, "She'll be back" I said as I walked back to the wall and Mike went back to doing his business.

About 10 to 15 minutes pass and Mike is at his car again with another customer, this time an older lady with two young ones. As I'm walking back from my car having just made a sale, I approach my favorite wall again, turn around and look who comes creeping up. That damn State Patrol again. WTF! I knew she'd be back, but not so soon. I yell out Yo one time. Yo two times. Yo three times. He doesn't hear me. Motherfucker! I lean back again and watch the scene play out. There was nothing more I could do without incriminating myself or looking guilty. This time she was on the far end of the parking lot, just watching. In my mind I thought, ok, she sees him at the car with an older woman and two kids, surely he can't be selling dope. Maybe it's cool. He then turns my way, he yells across the parking lot to ask if I have something he doesn't have on deck for the customer. WTF! I nod in the direction of the Patrol car and make a subtle pointing motion. He's oblivious, I just shake my head no. I'm feeling it's amateur hour now, Mike was just not on point. I make a mental plan on how to get the hell away from the spot. The State Patrol stays motionless for about a minute then pulls off again.

I walk back to Mike's car. "Yo! You didn't see the State Patrol!?" he gives me a confused look and says no, where is she at? "Dude! I was trying to yell out to you and when you looked my way I tried to point her out!". "Where is she?" he asked again, I simply replied she's gone now. His demeanor was definently shaken now. I motioned him to come to my car, we talked for a second as I prepared myself to get the fuck out of dodge. And sure enough a black Fulton County car comes rushing into the parking lot. He makes a quick loop and parks alongside Mikes car. We both watch closely while acting like we're just making conversation. The cop gets out of the squad car, walks past Mike's car then past mine (Mike and I were parked in the same row with about two parking spaces between us). Mike says enthusiastically, "Hey whad'up Sarge!" to the cop as he continues to walk past my car. Inside of myself I'm like, dude! Shut the fuck up! But I maintain composer. The cop stops, yells something into the radio on his shoulder, turns around and addresses Mike. "What are you selling out of the back of your trunk?" Mike gives me a nod and I tell him to hold it down. He proceeds to walk with the cop to his car. I walk back to the wall calmly and at a normal pace. I could not feel any pressure now. I had to be cool. If Mike snitched on me, which I expected him not to do, I still had to look cool and damn near disinterested. Getting in my car and leaving now would have made me look guilty too. I stood against the wall and watched as another squad car pulls in, and then another, and then another. Can you feel my stress at this point?

Rest of the story short, they ran his ID and let him go. Mike left the parking lot in a hurry. A homegirl of mine who works in one of the stores in the plaza said better him than me right? I said yea, but he's still cool with me, I didn't want to see him get pinched. Luckily he didn't. I patiently waited for all the squad cars to leave and then I made my exit. I returned later on to the spot to inform New York about what happened. It's always best to keep fellow hustlers informed about shit like this so they can be on gaurd, and it's also equally important to do it in person if at all possible. It's just a stand up thing to do.

The block will probably be getting some unnecessary attetion for the next week or so, which means I have to play my game largely on the phone in a meet and greet fashion. It's sad that a sister cop dimed Mike out, but then again, I'm not surprised. At least the brother cops were cool and let him go. He could have got hemmed up real good. I made a mental note to stop working with amateurs on the block, or at least with niggas who aren't on point when they do work. Anyway, that was my day. How was yours? LOL. Much love Fam and until next time, as always... keep it moving.

Tales From The Block: Grand Theft Auto

Family, how goes it out there? I thought it was a good time to hit you with another story from the block. Let me tell you straight, being out here on the streets, I hear and see all kinds of shit. This is yet another one of those stories.

The picture above was taken in the West End, not too far away from the famous black colleges many of you hear about or attend. Alot goes on at an intersection like this in the city. You'll find plenty of hustlers crowded around this area selling everything from sunglasses, to body oils and even freshly made fruit cups. I'm serious. Anyway let's go ahead with today's program.

One day I was chillin' in a barber shop. I had just gotten the fresh cut from my man Will. Will's a cool dude and about the only person I let touch my hair. You know what I'm talking about, especially you ladies. When you find a good barber/hair stylist you stick with them till the end. Moving on... As I'm chopping up conversation in the shop from the distance outside you hear tires schreeching and engines reving. I didn't think too much about it until someone walked into the shop from outside.

"Damn!" he said. "Buddy just got his car stolen!" The shop responded with the usual "What?" and "What happened?" and "Who's car got stolen?" question and answer session. The shop begin to buzz a little. Now whenever something happens in one of my spots, I always make it a point to get as much detail as possible. Why? To keep drama out of my spot. Drama like this brings heat, which eventually means the folks (police) will watch the spot more closely which in turn makes it hard for a brother to eat, feel me? I'm protective over my spot like a father watching his daughter go on her first date.

I shook my head and swaggered outside. I needed info. Posted infront of the barbershop are one of the resident master chop technicians and a regular to the shop. I directed my inquiry to the barber. "What happened? Someone's car got jacked?". He replied with a smirk, "Yea, buddy over there." He nodded in the direction of the cell phone store a few yards away. I looked and saw victim dude looking damn sad. He looks in our direction and we're looking back. Our expressions said it all, we know what happened to you dude, you got caught slippin'. How the hell did that happen? Don't you know where you are? The expression he returned was more like disbelief.

Quick backround information. Anyone who lives in or around College Park knows that this is a notorious chop shop area. If you know the right people, you could literally jack cars for a living, Which appeared to be the case here. The barber O continued, "Yea, he parked on the curb. Left his car runing with the keys in it. Then he went into the cell phone shop. Probably thought he was going to be quick. Someone must've been watching cause his car just sped out of the lot and a white van followed behind it. You didn't hear those tires peeling out?" I replied I did. I laughed on the inside, come the fuck on! How dumb can you be? Whoever it was had definently been casing the area. O, the barber, said the white van had been in the parking lot for about 3 or 4 hours. This was yet another car jack in this area bringing the total to 4 in a little over 2 months. I made a mental note to keep a look out for a white van in the future. And informed anyone who would listen to never leave their keys in the car if they parked on the curb.

Now Fam, the car jack isn't even the sad part of the story. What's really sad was dude had to wait like an hour just for the folks to show up and make a report. Good old reliable Fulton County police. A whole hour! That car was easily chopped up by that time. I hope victim dude had a damn good insurance plan. He won't be seeing his car again.

Thanks to everyone who takes their time to read these words and I'll be back at you tomorrow with more hotness of the written word. Be easy and keep it moving like your Hustleman.

P.S. If you're ever in College Park, please don't leave your damn keys in your car when it's unattended. If someone wants to steal your car, at least make them work a little for it LOL.

Sunday Reflection: The Living Dead

Peace Fam! I hope you all are doing well, I know I am. I actually had a chance to sleep in today LOL. For those that don't know, Sunday is my designated off day. I relax, chill and reflect on my past week. Yesterday went smooth. I saw my man Moose, and my homegirl Hershey who never fails to make me laugh. She claims she had some scenes in a few porno's back in the day, eh... I'll accept that when I see them. New York was in and out of the spot yesterday so it was pretty much just me running solo until Big Boy showed up out of nowhere. It was all to the good. I checked paper and chopped up conversation on the block. It was hot out there but I don't complain, winter's coming in a few months, I can't stand to be outside freezing my ass off.

I as check through business opportunities and make connections I sometimes think and wonder about those that came before me and how they came up from nothing. That takes a seriously strong mind. I have to further discipline myself, I see it coming already. I'm up to the challenge though. But anyway back on point...

I'm going to switch gears for you all today because I'm in an introspective mood. Since I've been hustling I've noticed something. Since Georgia in itself is sort of like a black mecca, I meet people from all over the United States. What's shocking is that only about 35 percent of the people I meet are actually from here LOL. When I hug the block I just people watch sometimes. Fam, have you ever done that? I mean damn! Some people walk around looking like a picture of complete depression. They go about their daily rountines with no joy, no appreciation, and no life in them. I deal with these kind of people daily, the hood is full of depressed people. Everyone seems to be looking for something, but no one's looking in the right place. And that place is inside of themselves.

A question was put to me once, they asked am I only about making money. I replied hell no, theres more to life most definently, but money lubricates so you can slide through a little easier. What alot of people lack in life is simply passion. Where's their passion? Without passion you're just on auto-pilot, doing what you do on a daily and seeing no joy in it. What the fuck is that? That's not living. That's survival. Quick clarification... I hate using the word passion because most people match the word with sex but stay with me here. When we pass away from this rock, that's it, our chapter is done. The sad truth is that alot of us are walking around dead already. No passion in life, little joy if any, and we never take a chance on things that may be good for us. Most of us are stressed everyday, life moves fast and it seems like you have to play catch up constantly.

A good hustler does all things with a passion (especially make money). It's one of the missing ingredients to getting more fulfillment out of life. Do everything with passion - Talk, walk, work, write, make music, eat, sleep, make love, teach your children, blah, blah, blah. You get my point.

Before I stated hustling I was the picture of depression. I was one of the living dead. I felt life owed my something and therefore I was joyless. It was around this time I had a job at the airport here in the ATL and there was this hustler who used to come through there every night. He would walk from concourse to concourse with bags on each shoulder selling product to the employees of all the newstands and various shops. I used to watch this dude with fascination. I never, not once, ever saw him in a bad mood. He was always full energy, friendly, and funny as hell. People loved this dude. They just loved being around him. He wasn't a soft happy-go-lucky sucka either, let me make that clear. But you could just feel his demeanor rub off on you if you were around him. I had the opportunity to speak with this brother on several occasions. I just had to ask him this question, it was killing me inside. I asked him basically, why the hell is he always in a good mood and how does he do what he does? His reply was basically what I'm relaying for you here. He put passion in everything he did. Simple.

What he said completely missed me until I began hustling. And over the years I made it a point to put passion in my actions, thoughts and words. Yes I fall off from time to time, I'm not always in a good mood, that's just not human to have no emotion. But before I spiral down into feeling down and out, I check myself and get back into life with even more passion and work shit out. It's amazing the results you get out of life when you put more into it like this. As the saying goes, "What goes around comes around." More passion in, more rewards out. Simple. The word for today is 'Passion' Fam. Add some in your life today, I'm so serious.

As always, thanks for coming by and checking out your Hustleman. It's all love. Until next time Fam... keep it moving.

The Dynamic Duo - Tag Teaming The Block

Greetings Fam! It's your Hustleman back at you. Just came in from a long days work. But I'm feeling fabulous. The day started out overcast and I swore we were going to get rain, but sure enough, the clouds dispersed and the heat was on.

It's been funny this last week or so, my spot just seems to be attracting all the old hustlers that used to step through there. It's was Big Boy, New York, Mike and myself. Not to mention the dude in the green truck who rolls though to catch the strays we miss. Shit, a situation like this draws too much attention and attention draws heat. To be quite honest Fam, I'm starting to feel like the wayward center for Huslters. Everyone wants to work in my spot instead of get their own. I don't take this offensively. I carefully groomed my main spot to be trouble free. It's very inviting to a lazy hustler.

I woke up late today which set the tone for the beginning of my day. A hustler has a mental clock with a voice attached to it, which ticks like this. "It's 11am nigga, you should be getting your products ready. It's 12pm why aren't you headed to your spot yet? By the way, did you get everything. Did you? You forgot something didn't you? You know JJ is coming today. Do you have what he needs? Damn you're slow, it's 1 pm, are we there yet? You're going to start missing money nigga!"

I'm in a situation right now since my suppliers are transient. Just to keep heat off of them they move every year. This adds about 2 hours to the re-up phase of my day, which normally only takes about 20 minutes. I have to call my connect. Read him a list of what I need. The connect will go through and get what he has access to, then call me back 3 or 4 times to make sure it's right. Then I have to meet him somewhere. Then from there I go to my spot to set up and check paper. It's a pain in the ass, but you gotta do what you gotta, feel me? This week I've been all over the 'A' meeting this connect daily, no bullshit.

Today started out slow, about an hour after I arrived my man New York shows up. Surprisingly no other hustlers show up. Looks like it's just him and me on the block. It's was all good it was slow anyway. I woke up late so I missed my connect during the morning so I had to meet him in the afternoon. I left my spot, met with him and headed back. Damn, still slow. By this time my mind starts to drift to other things as New York and I chop up some interesting conversation. Mainly about females and the hustle game. I had to check myself to stay focused. That's when a Fulton County squad car pulls up near the spot and just parks. Damn! It's already slow and then the folks are nearby, which means you have to tip-toe around and make careful moves. In essence, it holds up your money. New York told me he'd be back in a little while and left. I played it cool and got out product very tactfully. By the time Fulton County left I had about an hour to go before I had to leave the spot yet again to pick up my girl from work. And it's still slow! Damn! It's Friday, I expected so much more.

New York rolled back through and went on about how he needs to get his lottery money for the day. Pause here. I respect New York, but this dude spends 40 dollars a day playing the lotto. That's right, 40 dollars a day. I can't see it. Having a bad habit that sucks up your money is just bad business for a hustler. But he's a grown ass man, older than me in fact. What am I supposed to say to him that he doesn't already know? I left that topic alone.

The spot began to pick up and we did what any hustler is supposed to do. Lock down the block. What I didn't have on deck with me, I checked to see if he had it and vice versa. No customer was getting out of spending if we could help it. I looked at the clock on my cell. Damn! Time to pick up my girl from work. I left and did that and returned to my concrete kingdom. By this time the block was booming. We tag teamed the rest of the evening. Money flowed to both of us. We had a short converstaion about just keeping the block to ourselves and pushing the other hustlers out. We'll see if that happens.

You know Fam, there's a certain type of high that comes with making money the way I do. I can't put it in words. Your heart pumps, your mind clears and it's almost as if you become a magnet for money. It just comes to you. An old hustler buddy of mine called Bone used to say hustling is a vibe. You just have to catch it. And he was right. When you catch that vibe you feel almost unstoppable.

As the evening rolled on and the sun began to set, I figured it was time to go. Mainly because I was hungry as hell. I don't get many opportunities to eat during the day time. My girl agreed to get jamacian food and I'm all down with it. I love that curry chicken. On the way back to the house I smiled and gave thanks. Another successful day, no stress, just blessed. I must say, it was a good day.

A Hustler's Perspective: The Proper Focus Theory

Greetings Family! Once again it's your Hustleman Shai (pronounced Shy) broadcasting to you from the streets of Hotlanta Georgia. Hope all is well with you. It was a hot day today but mainly because it rained in the afternoon, and anyone who lives in the southeren region can vouch, when that happens, the humidity makes you feel like you're trapped in a sauna.

Last post I started a series of upcoming entries called 'Tales From the Block'. In this post I'd like to start another one. This series will be called, 'A Hustler's Perspective'. I made this so that maybe you can see where a dude like me is coming from as far as business practices and basically how I do what I do. My principles, rules, thought process and so forth.

I was at my spot today with my man New York. It was a slow day but none the less I made quota. We chopped it up about life history while we observed the strange influx of beautiful women that graced our surroundings. New York pulled some phone numbers, I remained focused on making paper.

Often times I'm asked, "Is this really what you do for a living?". I smirk and respond positively. Some people even go on to say, "I just don't know how you do it." I respond, "It's just me. I can't answer to anyone else." This brings me to a point I'd like to make, and also reflects the topic of this post. When one is an entreprenuer, one cannot completely focus on making money. Ahh, I hear you thinking loud, like what the hell! Just wait a second, have some faith in your Hustleman. Yes and true, we set up business to make money, but you can't just focus on money because you'll go broke chasing dollars. Sounds silly doesn't it? It's paradoxical. I learned this the hard way, when you are desperate for money and you really need it, say because you don't have rent or mortgage money, you're more likely to stress yourself and come short of your goal. What you focus on expands, real shit right there. With that in mind, if you're focused on not being able to pay your bills, you're hustling out of desperation, and chances are you'll fail.

When I started I made the stupid mistake of going all out with the last of what I had. I couldn't help it, I hated working a 9 to 5 with a passion. I figured it's now or never! So you me, I jumped both feet in. This thinking put me in a squeeze though. I had to work harder and the harder, and the more I worked the less money I made and the more frustrated I'd be when I got home, you feel me? I can't even speak on what this feels like inside. You feel like a failure. And guess what? You have to stuff those emotions inside of you and head out the next day to do it all over again. You're hustling out of fear. The fear of losing what you have.

When you start your enterprise, always start with something in reserve for yourself. A cushion so to speak. Common sense you say? No, not really. Common sense isn't always a common thing. The point I'm making here is when you go to make your money, have a goal in mind, then just concentrate on doing the work for the works sake. That's some real ancient Egyptian, Zen shit right there. And it's a fact. When you're focused and relaxed your energy flows and you will always end up in the right spot at the right time. It's like magic. But when you're energy is low and you are desperate, well... let's just say you'll recieve the results of that thinking. It's called "broke hustling". You're already broke, and you're trying to make money to keep yourself from going broker. It's a lose, lose situation. What it should be is you have money, your needs are taken care of, and you hustle to improve your situation further. Let that sink in for a second. Focus on doing the work, not on the money. If you do the work properly, the money will come. It's like fishing. You go at the right time, to the right area with the right bait, you're bound to come up with something. Feel me on that.

Shots go out to bleugod and the goddess, the A-god, Brown Sugar, Moose, New York, big Keith and Thee One and Only. Take care of little Kayla ya heard! Stay up Fam. And until next time, keep it moving.

Tales From The Block: A Huslter's Respect

Peace Fam! Hope all is well with you, it is with me. Today has been a very smooth day I must say. There's a saying that goes, "There's eight million stories in the city." Real shit. I have tons stories, so I sat down with myself and decided it best to create a series called 'Tales from the block'. There's no better way to see the lifestyle of these streets and help you understand the grind.

Last week I was posted up at my spot, doing what I do, checking paper. I was into a deep conversation with a regular up there, my man Moose. Now Moose is a deep brother, we always get into convo's concerning the world and the state of Black people in America. I love these conversations, they keep a brother on point. Moose is from Cali, the country part as he calls it. He's been around the county crips out there and has plenty of war stories. They're hilarious. I'll tell you more about Moose another time. Back on point... it's super hot, I'm sweatin' to death just throwing down Powerade's to stay hydrated. Me and Moose are in story telling mode along with Big Boy, a fellow hustler that comes to hustle in my spot often. He's part-timey though. How can you hustle part-time? I don't get it. Now peep this, other hustlers making money in my spot doesn't bother me. It's all love. I have no competition when I'm out there. Simple.

Out of the corner of my eye I spot a familiar face. I'm like, "Oh shit!". Walking up to me is my man New York. He's a Rican cat from New York (sure you already figured that out). Now New York is a true hustler. I have mad respect for him cause he keeps his shit real. If him and I were to even team up to do bigger things we would murder (take over) these streets, understand me?

I show him love with a pound and he returns with his own. I'm like, "Yo, what's up man? What brings you this way?". He went on to tell me that his spot was heated with the folks (police). I'm like what the hell? He went on to tell me that a young cat at his spot was going around robbing old ladies and what not. Worst part was, he knew who was doing it but couldn't stop him in time. Now, needless to say, things like this bring much heat. Let's pause here. Understand this. A hustler is very territorial. Sort of like a lion in the African fields. We not only work at our spots, but we protect them and do our best to keep bullshit to a minimum. The reason for this is two-fold. One, if we lose our spot we cut off a huge source of income. And two, the poeple who's businesses we work around have to respect the fact we're out there. Hell, we're their eyes and ears on the street. We deter (wrong spelling?) more crime in a spot than the police LOL. He went on to explain that do to the heat he needs another spot for a couple of weeks to still make paper until the heat wears off. I told that dude, no problem. It's all love and I got you. Do what you do.

Now rewind to about a year ago. New York used to not have one main spot, but he used to come through mine from time to time. Then after a period of time, his partner got run off by the folks and New York went ghost. He disappeared. That meant he was either locked up, or he found a new main spot for himself. The latter was the case. I was always curious how he came up on this main spot, because I had heard of the dude that used to hustle in this spot, so I asked.

"It's like this Son." he said. You know those up north accents. "I went to the nigga at that spot and came up showing mad love. I greeted the nigga and and asked him if I could hold down the other half of the parking lot. And you know what that nigga said to me? That nigga said NO, fuck you. Ain't nobody coming up in this spot!" Now I know New York, so I already figured what his reaction was going to be in the face of such blatant disrespect. His eyes got bigger, and I could sense the tension in his voice as he flashed back to the day in question. He was super animated now as he continued. "I was like what the fuck you say, Son? And he said fuck you again. This time I was ready though... as soon as those words left his mouth I socked that nigga. BLAW! Hit that bitch in his fuckin' face. What was that nigga? I hit him again! BLAW! That nigga buckled and fell down. I told him, BITCH! Don't you EVER talk to me like that. I was stompin' on that niggas chest, like this." He went on to demonstrate the stomp beat down then he continued, " Who the fuck do you think you are, this is my spot. I was here before you nigga! I let up on that nigga and told him, don't ever come back to this motherfucka! I don't ever want to see you here again!"

I smirked. That's exactly the reaction I expected. We all laughed and I shook my head. Territorial niggas trying to be gangster when they ain't gangster. He deserved his beat down. It is what it is. Truth be told, I can't confirm the authenticity of this story because I wasn't there. But I will say this. I have been by the spot in question many times over the past year, and have never seen that dude posted up there, ever LOL.

Much love Fam. Until next time take care. Also remember to tell the ones you love, that you love them. Just a friendly reminder from your favorite Huslteman.

Sunday Reflection: A Long Road Ahead

Greetings Fam! It was a beautiful day here in the ATL. Around 92 degrees but add in the humidity factor, it felt more like 102. Like I said beautiful, until the clouds came in and the bottom fell out. Damn Georgia weather, it's so unpredictable but it's all good.

Sunday is usually the day I designate as my off-day and it gives me time to think and review my week, plus plan for the week ahead. The pic above is the Discount Mall off of Old National Highway in CP (College Park). Now normally I don't do a damn thing on Sunday, I lay around the house and watch movies. Plus season 2 of The Girls Next Door is out so I gotta catch that. I don't watch TV so when I do watch something it had better be hot. It never ceases to amaze me what people let you get away with when you have that scrilla. Hugh Hefner is the fucking Pimp of the century. Simple. Who knows, after your hustleman gets this money, maybe I'll have a mansion with 3 dime girls. Or maybe 5.

Last night I was exhausted. Spend 7 hours in the Georgia sun and tell me how you function after, you feel me? I posted my blog and watched the bootleg of the new Sam Jackson movie 'Snakes on a Plane'. Maybe I'll give a review in a future post. After that, I knocked out. Lights and computer were still on. When I woke up it was daylight. Damn good sleep too.

I woke up feeling pretty energetic and was looking forward to my day of doing nothing but my girl kept pressing me to leave the house and spend some time with her. On top of that my cell was ringing off the hook from my clientele who couldn't wait until Monday to get what they needed. So fuck it I got dressed and left. Money over bullshit, all the time.

My girl was pressed to get some more black art for the house, plus your hustleman needed some bling so we hit the discount mall. Amazing! Why the hell don't I see my people with the big booths selling the high end products, like jewelry, cell phones, clothes etc.? This is Georgia! All I saw were Koreans doing the big time operating. Don't misread your dude, I'm not racist, but I know what race black folks are in.

These people don't even live in our hood, but we patronize their establishments and they take that money and spend it with their own. It's brilliant. My people need to get on that level. Anyway, I have much repect for their hustle. Moving on.

After the clientele was served and I had a spare moment to think, I have to say this week was damn interesting. When you hang out with hustlers you're perspective on life changes. You realize that in this society you can only really depend on yourself for security and longevity. Sad to report things are not looking better but worse. I'm an optimistic dude with my outlooks, but reality is what it is.

When it's all said and done, to quote a great teacher of mine, "The helping hand you're looking for is at the end of your own arm." End quote.

Self reliance is the missing ingredient that seperates the working class from the hustler. The realization that what you do today effects what happens tomorrow, and the days after. It's just you. Yeah, yeah, yeah, you share your life with others. True. But in the end it's really just you. So what decisions are you making, or not making? Not happy? Make different decisions. Don't have the things in life you desire. Make a decision to bring them into your life. Simple.

I have made a decision to elevate my game. Not just for the glory of saying, "Look what I did motherfuckas!". But to elevate my peoples game also. There's a long road ahead of me but I look at it with a grin. Whatever comes, I'll climb under, jump over, run around or bust through. That's my decision, so that's what it's going to be.

Later Fam. As always... keep it moving.

A Hustler's Definition Of A Hustler

Greetings from the ATL Fam! Wecome to this, my first blog post. I might end up liking this! Big up and humble thanks to my fraternity brother for suggesting I start this up. Check him out here.

All bullshit aside, its absolutley necessary to start my very first post with some overstanding about what it is I am. Do you even have a clue?

~(WARNING!!! Run on paragraph coming up)~ First things first, forget all that crap you've seen on the movies and TV. It's garbage. Probably written by some geeky ass writer who would never touch the hood. So what's the magic question for the day? What is a hustler? Truth be told only a hustler can define a hustler. If you don't live it, you can't define it. It's like a pastry chef explaining to you how to change your car alternator. Doesn't add up. Simple. What do I do? I provide quality goods at low prices in convenient locations. What's fuckin' with that? You think you know a hustler? I'll give you an image of a hustler you can all relate to. How about a car salesperson (that's me being gender conscious right there). The biggest hustlers are in fact those bigwigs in the corporate offices making decisions about what the public wants. Then we have to pick out of what they give us. Now that's hustlin'...

Moving along. To us (hustlers) we know at the core we are just entreprenuers. We take the mentality that no we're not punching your clock, cleaning your floors or letting you tell me when I can have an off day. We make something out of nothing. On the street level, we are viewed to be at the bottom of the food chain by the eye of big business. If only they knew LOL!

To my working stiffs out there who think a steady paycheck is security, I'm sorry for you. You just may never get this.

To my aspiring hustlers, or to those who already have their things in motion much love to ya! See you at the top.

All those who are seeking to join the path of us entreprenuers and don't know where to start, perhaps some of my adventures and introspections will enlighten you. I motivate you, you motivate me. Simple.

I'm far from a baller (wealthy), but I must say I do live a pretty comfortable lifestyle. I answer to no one but myself, and that's the way I like it. Don't get me wrong, this isn't easy, but who ever achieved anything great taking the easy route?

Well I'll wrap this lecture up. Now that you know where I'm coming from, we can move onto bigger and better things. I have alot to share with you Fam and I know alot more bullshit is on the way. But... Isn't it always like that when you decide to do something new?

Until next time... keep it moving.