under the impression that he actually worked for Gee-Live. At least thatâs what one of the girls he took to the Loop Inn Motel one night after a party, told him. At first, it hadnât registered to him what the girl actually said until she was asked to repeat herself.
âI said, Gee-Live treat you better than a lot of other niggas treat their workers.â
Jeff laughed hysterically and asked the girl what made her think that he worked for Gee-Live.
âThatâs what he tells everybody,â she stated going on to say how Gee-Live always bragged about his boy Jeff being a go-getter and how he keeps his pockets laced.
Hearing the girlâs words had Jeff fuming. For some reason, he believed the girl because she had no reason to fabricate such a story. Jeff felt like he had just been shot in the heart by his best friend. He had been nothing but a loyal friend and partner to Gee-Live, and in return his kindness had been taken for granted and as a weakness. For all Jeff knew, his reputation in the streets was nothing more than being Gee-Liveâs flunky, and the thought of his man playing him like that infuriated him more. Jeff cut his night short with the young, tender redbone that had given him information that was more valuable than she could ever imagine. Just before she got out of his rental car, he handed her three hundred dollars.
âWhatâs this for?â the girl had asked, puzzled.
âYou deserve that. Get yourself something nice,â replied Jeff as he pulled off.
After making it to the projects in record time, Jeff had confronted Gee-Live about what was told to him by the girl. Needless to say Gee-Live took the nonchalant approach and laughed it off. Neither denying or admitting the allegations, his laughter was enough to convince Jeff of the evident. Jeff shot a quick, short but effective right hook to Gee-Liveâs jaw, knocking the smile clean off of his face. A fight erupted. Massive punches were thrown. Punches turned into grabbing as the two friends continued tearing up the little two-bedroom apartment. Gee-Live was very athletic and strong for his size, but he was no match for Jeff, who was naturally cock strong. As they tussled, somehow Jeff got up under Gee-Live gaining good position. All in one motion, he scooped him up off of his feet and dirt slammed him, while coming down on top of him.
âYou fake-ass nigga!â barked Jeff.
He choked Gee-Live with both hands.
Gee-Live lay there helplessly.
âIf I ever hear you breathe my name again or even look at me sideways, Iâll kill your punk ass!â threatened Jeff.
What he wasnât aware of, was that he was already close to taking Gee-Liveâs life. The pressure he applied was cutting off his air passage. Had it not been for Gee-Liveâs mother coming in from her sunrise service at church, Jeff may have surely caught a body that day. Hearing his name caused him to release Gee-Liveâs throat and climb off of top of him.
He got up and walked out the door, leaving Gee-Liveâs mother standing there bewildered at him lying on the floor gasping for air. That was the last time the two had ever come in contact with one another.
It wasnât until three months later that he and Mike B linked up after Jeffâs hooptie had stalled on him in New York. He had just purchased an eighth of a kilo of crack and couldnât afford to get caught out of pocket by NYPDs finest or risk taking the train back to Jersey, knowing police accompanied by K-9s would be floating through Newark Penn Station.
Mike B saw Jeff and offered to give him a jump, thinking that his battery had died out on him. Mike B knew who Jeff was because he made it his business to know all the people in his town that either got money or did stickups. His motto was, know your surroundings. From what he knew about Jeff, it was enough to decide to help him despite the fact that he himself was dirty, traveling with ten ounces of
âI said, Gee-Live treat you better than a lot of other niggas treat their workers.â
Jeff laughed hysterically and asked the girl what made her think that he worked for Gee-Live.
âThatâs what he tells everybody,â she stated going on to say how Gee-Live always bragged about his boy Jeff being a go-getter and how he keeps his pockets laced.
Hearing the girlâs words had Jeff fuming. For some reason, he believed the girl because she had no reason to fabricate such a story. Jeff felt like he had just been shot in the heart by his best friend. He had been nothing but a loyal friend and partner to Gee-Live, and in return his kindness had been taken for granted and as a weakness. For all Jeff knew, his reputation in the streets was nothing more than being Gee-Liveâs flunky, and the thought of his man playing him like that infuriated him more. Jeff cut his night short with the young, tender redbone that had given him information that was more valuable than she could ever imagine. Just before she got out of his rental car, he handed her three hundred dollars.
âWhatâs this for?â the girl had asked, puzzled.
âYou deserve that. Get yourself something nice,â replied Jeff as he pulled off.
After making it to the projects in record time, Jeff had confronted Gee-Live about what was told to him by the girl. Needless to say Gee-Live took the nonchalant approach and laughed it off. Neither denying or admitting the allegations, his laughter was enough to convince Jeff of the evident. Jeff shot a quick, short but effective right hook to Gee-Liveâs jaw, knocking the smile clean off of his face. A fight erupted. Massive punches were thrown. Punches turned into grabbing as the two friends continued tearing up the little two-bedroom apartment. Gee-Live was very athletic and strong for his size, but he was no match for Jeff, who was naturally cock strong. As they tussled, somehow Jeff got up under Gee-Live gaining good position. All in one motion, he scooped him up off of his feet and dirt slammed him, while coming down on top of him.
âYou fake-ass nigga!â barked Jeff.
He choked Gee-Live with both hands.
Gee-Live lay there helplessly.
âIf I ever hear you breathe my name again or even look at me sideways, Iâll kill your punk ass!â threatened Jeff.
What he wasnât aware of, was that he was already close to taking Gee-Liveâs life. The pressure he applied was cutting off his air passage. Had it not been for Gee-Liveâs mother coming in from her sunrise service at church, Jeff may have surely caught a body that day. Hearing his name caused him to release Gee-Liveâs throat and climb off of top of him.
He got up and walked out the door, leaving Gee-Liveâs mother standing there bewildered at him lying on the floor gasping for air. That was the last time the two had ever come in contact with one another.
It wasnât until three months later that he and Mike B linked up after Jeffâs hooptie had stalled on him in New York. He had just purchased an eighth of a kilo of crack and couldnât afford to get caught out of pocket by NYPDs finest or risk taking the train back to Jersey, knowing police accompanied by K-9s would be floating through Newark Penn Station.
Mike B saw Jeff and offered to give him a jump, thinking that his battery had died out on him. Mike B knew who Jeff was because he made it his business to know all the people in his town that either got money or did stickups. His motto was, know your surroundings. From what he knew about Jeff, it was enough to decide to help him despite the fact that he himself was dirty, traveling with ten ounces of
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