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.