When money is made, anything can happen
I was born in a middle class neighborhood in Cincinnati. Both of my parents are still together and I have three sisters. Back in the day, Cincinnati was one of the top ten places to have a family. The midwest was where the factories where, so you could get a good job and it was a safe city to live in. My childhood as a whole was great, about the best ever. I could do anything I want, I had great friends, went to the best schools, and everything was safe. My high-school was ranked number five in the country as far as public schools. My Father worked as at the post office and my Mom was a nurse. I'ma tell you something about my Mom: she grew up in downtown Cincinnati and was a hustler. She knew the game and knew what she wanted. You wasn't running no game on her. My parents and I had a little falling out though, due to my activity in the streets and we do not speak anymore.
How I got into the drug game?
Well I used to work at the Andrew Jurgens company and had been there for about ten years making 60, 70 grand. I had never gotten into the street game at that time because I am a opportunist, a bottom line guy. I only deal with things that the bottom line has a plus sign by it, you know. So while all my buddies were slinging crack and weed, I didn't see that there was enough money for me to be a street boy out there and the reward level wasn't good. I had a cousin in the south who was dating this big drug dealer in Atlanta. So while I was visiting, he asked me what a pound of weed goes for in Cincinnati? I tell him $1100, $1200 and that I can check with some of my buddies. What he does is gives me ten pounds, tells me to hit him back with $7,000, and gives me 30 days to see what happen. I get back home and I am thinking okay, I have 30 days to get rid of this, so I should be able sell them for a stack a piece and I will have three grand. What happens is I call my buddy, he comes over and checks out all of them, and boom, they were all gone as soon as I got home! Instead of 30 days it took me three hours!
That's what I call a come up (we both laugh). Thats what got the hook in me. Now I am making good money at my job, real good money but dang, I made $3000 in three hours? I gotta stick with this, you know what I am saying?
Me not knowing the game, I'm thinking, okay I'm a get these and bang 'em off not knowing how things work. This is what I learned down the road, when people start knowing you have a quanity of drugs, you become a target and I didn't know that at first. So I started to bang 'em off, riding to Atlanta, and I quit working overtime. I'm making $3000 a week, thats an extra $12,000 a month you hear me? So I am stacking the first couple of months and I started needing way more than that ten, so now I am like, if I buy ten will you front me ten? My connect said yeah and it got to the point that I would go to the A, leave with 20, call some folks, and sometimes they would be waiting for me in my driveway! I didn't even have to take the pounds in my house.
The thing about the drug game is that whether it is meth, coke, weed, whatever it is, if you got the best price and the right stuff, you can't keep enough of it, it's gone. I couldn't keep enough of them because I am selling the pounds for $1000 and they are going for $1200 on the streets. Now as I was getting savvy, I learned a couple of things: Never be greedy in the drug game. Never keep it in your house if you have to, because when the robbery boys come and stick a gun your mouth, they are going to ask where the drugs and the money. I'd rather give them they money than the drugs, because you can always make it back.
You know and I know, with that kind of success, your name starts ringing and in the hood, information goes like wild fire......
It got off the hook. After six months I had over 70 grand in profit, so I quit my job. Now I have been there for ten years, but that one week in Atlanta was not enough. So my ex wife and I started going down to Atlanta three times a week.
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Genre – NonFiction / Sociology
Rating – PG
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