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𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐑 𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐑
𝘌𝘹𝘤𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦𝘴 .

Zamya and I walked through the mall searching for these new jordans that came out earlier.

"I told you we should've stayed up earlier and bought them online. Now we have to wait." She spoke.

"Girl, I know they have at least a size 5 at kicks," I said.

So, we walked to footlocker.

Yes, I have a new friend. So what, she's temporary.

"GoRl, let me tell you how this bitch was sucking up your husband. I outta' beat her ass for you. She goes to our school too." She spoke drinking her sweet tea.

I rolled my eyes, "My boyfriend knows wassup."

She groaned, "You still dating that white boy? After like... all of this happening. What happened to Black Lives Matter?"

"Black Lives still do matter, always. White boys are just my type. I don't think that's a problem though." I said.

Lowkey made me mad.

New friend me NEOW.

"I guess I'll have Poppa then." She smirked.

Since when did people call him Poppa?

"Don't ever call him the again. You and I both know that's my nickname for him." I chuckle.

I wanna go home.

Don't even wanna be bothered anymore.

"GoRl what's up with the attitude? Whatever there he goes right there."She sucked her teeth.

He was walking right into Footlocker. Where we were going.

I was getting ready to turn around until she heard her scream out to him.

Girl what-...

He turned around looking dead at us. We were super close to the entrance, so she found a way to drag me in.

I snatched my arm from her hand walking to the cashier to see if they had my shoes or not.

Poppa was grilling me mad hard. Haven't talked to him in 2 weeks.

I used to expect a phone call from him, but yanno.

It was like he never stopped staring.

I was looking cute too, like what.

He ended his conversation with Zamya and started walking towards me.

I didn't wanna talk at all. My mood was blown.

"Starr lemme talk to you right quick." He rubbed his hands together.

"We aren't friends remember? Why would we talk at all?" I ask.

I was pretty disappointed in him. I valued our friendship. He didn't.

"come on." He headed for the exit.

I followed. I just want to hear what he had to say.

__

He ended up smoking me out. Now we just talking from the heart.

Them deep high conversations.

"You know the streets not for you right? Try to rap or something. I don't want my friend dying on me you know? You have a whole daughter."I spoke.

"I'm not staying for long. Ima get something going for myself. Just got to get my money up."He responds.

"Lemme tell you something, Pac said, "Thug Life means The hate you give little infants fucks everybody." T-H-U-G L-I-F-E. Meaning, what society gives to us when we're little comes back to bite them in the ass as we grow and wild out. You get that?" I say.

He looked shocked, "Damn, yea."

"Give that little girl her father, she needs you. The time you spend on the streets could be the time you use with her. I have yet to see you with her. Matter fact, tomorrow we could all go get chopped cheese in Harlem and hang at the park. Just the 3 of us." I smile a little.

"Yea, I'll call her moms when I get you home." He said.

"You know what Starr? Yesterday my dawg let me use his home studio. Can I play something for you right quick." He turned to me.

I nod my head.

His phone was already connected to the aux, so he went to his noted and pressed a play button.

It was a song. The beat gave me New York vibes.

"This is a Melo beat
Baby, welcome to the party
I'm off the Molly, the Xan, the lean
That's why I'm movin' retarded
(That's why I'm movin' retarded)
Baby, welcome to the party, uh
I hit the boy up and then I go skate in a 'Rari
Baby, welcome to the party
Bitch, I'm a thot, get me lit (get me lit)
Gun on my hip (gun on my hip)
One in the head (one in the head)
Ten in the clip (ten in the clip)
Baby, baby, don't trip
Just lower your tone (lower your tone)
'Cause you could get hit"

The song stopped at that.

I was flabbergasted. I knew he could rap. I KNEW!

"There's more, but we haven't finished recording it. I don't think I will finish it though, I just wanted you to hear it since you mentioned rapping and shit." I smiled extra hard.

"BASHARRRR! What the fuck is wrong with you?!"

"Lord- you got me in here cussing. This is a fucking bob. Can you not hear? Do you know how famous you would get if you dropped this shit? You better finish the damn song ASAP." Words couldn't describe how fast my high went out of the window.

My best friend is a rapper, for real.

''

Hey yall, I just made a new book. "Save the Last Dance." Add that to your library NEOW. If you love me, you would read it and leave a like and comment.

I'm in love with this chapter. The book is finally starting to come together.

GoRl I know Welcome to the Party wasn't his first-ever song, but it will do.

Anyways, What's your type?

Where the hood niggas at? Lmfaoaoa.

I honestly don't have one.

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