You Can Find Me In Da Club
Stance on Warnings
We gon' party like it's yo birthday / we gon' sip Bacardi like it's yo birthday
Deaq was smashed off his ass. Probably high as shit, too, even though he'd managed to avoid actually taking a drag; second-hand smoke's a killer. But he knew he was completely fucked up, which put him ahead of Doolie, who seemed convinced that he was just fine.
"Yo, I like you wafer-boy, Deaq. He hang like a true nigga." Doolie, the fat toad they were investigating, finished off his rum and Coke; took a deep sip from the next. They were lined up in two rows of six, like the girls in those books he used to read to his little sisters. Magellan or some shit.
"Where you find pretty, pretty white boys like that?" Doolie was looking at Van, licking his lips.
Deaq grinned slow and easy. "Why? You looking for a birthday present?"
Doolie shot Deaq a sharp look, like maybe he wasn't as drunk as Deaq thought. Or maybe he expected Deaq to be drunker. Then he grinned and leaned back nice and easy. "Could be. Could be."
When I roll 20 deep, it's 20 knives in the club
The door slammed shut and the Banger Boys rolled up in the back room. Despite the booze in his system, Deaq knew where his weapons were, and he placed his hands in a ready position.
He didn't draw, because the Boys were walking in with their hands out, fingers spread. Every one of them stood next to one of Doolie's men, and the Big Boy and his lieutenants came straight for the circular bench where Doolie, Van, Deaq, and Merc were lounging.
"What you want, cholo? You want to start a war?"
Look mami I got the X if you into taking drugs
Benito shook his head. "No, I came to do business. Circumstances have made it desirable to find an alternate supplier for a large quantity of ecstasy." He shrugged.
Doolie sighed, rubbed his face. "When you need dis shit? How much?"
"I need thirty thousand pills. By next Friday." Benito looked Doolie straight in the eye.
Doolie shook his head. "Can't help you. I'd love to make that kind of cash, start a thing between us, but what I got on hand now is coke and H. It'd take more'n a minute to get you X like that."
But holla in New York them niggas'll tell ya I'm loco
"I can get you your X," Deaq heard himself say. It was, thank fucking god, the truth. He could get the X, because it was a Candystore raid that grabbed the fifty thousand hits the Bangers were desperate to replace. Unis had screwed up the snatch somehow, so it was shit for evidence, but Billie still got the drugs.
Van slapped a hand over Deaq's mouth. "You're high out of your goddamn mind, Deaqon Hayes." He turned to shrug apologetically at Doolie and Benito. "He's high as a kite. You can ask in New York. He's completely insane when he gets like this."
"If he's that drunk, take him home. I don't need lunatics fucking up my deals," said Doolie.
"Done."
Deaq was pulled to unsteady feet and led out of the room.
And you know we don't give a fuck it's not your birthday
Deaq was spun and slammed against the wall, a pillar jamming in his back.
Van was up in his face. "What the fuck was that back there? What the hell happened to you?"
Deaq shrugged and shook his head from side to side. "I don't know. I just don't know, man." He felt himself slipping down the slick painted surface at his back. "One minute, everything was fine, and then Doolie was talking about birthday presents and then there was a bang and then there were scary-looking Salvadorans as far as the eye could see, and I just wanted out of there."
Van pulled him up, and then knocked him down with a right hook.
Deaq opened his eyes to look at the ceiling.
Van leaned over him and shouted, "It's not your fucking birthday."
Deaq just closed his eyes.