I Ain't Like Them Other Niggas 2

By: LaToya Charmain

Eventually, I started to eat and talk again after I was placed in the hospital for extreme dehydration from me refusing to eat or drink anything. The hospital psychologist said that I was suffering from childhood abandonment and childhood PTSD, but to give me time to adjust, and I would come around, and he was right. By the time I was eight, I stopped crying about Andy, but then, my father was diagnosed with colon cancer and died three short months later. I felt like I was once again going through what I had went through with Andy. My stepmother Yvonne was now responsible for me, and she raised me and loved me like her own. When her brother, Mack, and his family moved near us, it worked out perfectly, because now, I had a real family with cousins that I could play with. I was still hurting over the death of my father and longing for my brother, so I started acting out around the same time that my cousin, Juvie, lost his mother, and when Uncle Mack started drinking.

It’s funny now that I think back, it seems like the tragedies that me and Juvie were going through separately is what really cemented our relationship. Juvie seeing his father completely crumble from the loss of his mother, and now having to raise his three-year-old little sister caused Juvie to go buck wild, and I followed right behind his ass. Clip was older than us by a couple of years, so he just basically showed us the ropes, and we became a click.

It wasn’t until about five years ago that I ran into Andy aka Snoop out in ATL. Juvie was in west bubba fuck somewhere off doing his military thing, and Clip got knocked and had to do a six-month bid for driving on a suspended license, so I left Savannah and moved to Atlanta. I felt like I needed a change of scenery, because once again, I felt like I was all alone like back when I was first brought down to Georgia by my father and my stepmother, Yvonne. I mean, yeah, I still had other friends in Savannah, and Mama Yvonne, and Uncle Mack, but Juvie and Clip were my boys. Not having either one of them around me hurt my heart.

Because hustling was all I knew how to do, I quickly hooked up with some boys out that way that was getting money with some city nigga named Snoop that looked like a younger version of Snoop Dog. When I finally met the infamous Snoop, I didn’t even recognize my brother, he had changed so much, but when Snoop seen me, instantly, he was like “Wet, is that you?” Wet was the nickname that he had gave me, because I always use to wet myself.

I was like, “Oh shit, Andy?”

Snoop immediately pulled me into a tight embrace, while all the other niggas stood around watching us, not knowing what the fuck was going on. Since then, Snoop and I spent a lot of time together, rekindling our brotherly bond. Snoop had already told me about how, after I left that day that he was shuffled from group home to group home, until he was about 15 years old. That’s when he met up with another boy who went by the name of King, and them two started getting money together. Eventually, shit went sideways between King and Snoop, causing King to try and kill Snoop, so after he got out the hospital in New York, Snoop moved down here to Georgia once he got his revenge.

Snoop was using a fake name and everything, and as far as anyone knew, they thought he was from Virginia, but I knew the truth. I know that I probably should’ve told Clip and Juvie about Snoop when I first found him, but I was so happy to have my brother back in my life that I just went with the flow and kept his secrets. Now, five years had passed, so there was no need for me to tell them now, considering that I was going to be moving soon with Snoop across the country to Seattle.

Over the years, Juvie and my friendship had dwindled, but when he moved back to Savannah, it seemed like I had got my old pal back, which is why I moved back to Savannah myself. Plus, now that my boy was a Detective in Savannah-Chatham Police Department Drug Taskforce division, there was no stopping the amount of money that we could be making out that way. Therefore, I suggested to Snoop that we spread out to Savannah, and ain’t looked back since.

I kind of felt bad about keeping this shit from Juvie and Clip, but Snoop was my blood. Getting tired of just lying around waiting for this nigga Snoop to surface, I bounced, going to go buy me a new phone since I had just broke my shit, like a dumb ass. I mean, now how was I supposed to be able to contact with his ass. I figured that after I copped a new phone that I could go by this nigga Snoop’s traps again, or stop by his house to see if he showed up yet.



Imagine my surprise when Mike pulled up to my home yesterday with MJ in tow talking about how he was never taking his son back to Nisha’s house because she had “some thugs” as he put it around his son. You see, Mike wasn’t from the streets like Nisha and I was. Back when we were all cool with each other, Nisha and I used to clown this fool all the time about some of the shit he said, but that was when Nisha thought that I was just Mike’s best friend, and before she caught me fucking her husband in their son’s bed. Since then, Nisha barely even uttered a word to me, unless she was cursing me out. Mike grew up in a two-parent middle-class home out in the suburbs. His parents had good jobs; his moms was a teacher, and his pops was an Assistant Vice President of a bank, so he never been around the street life like that.

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