That’s it B, that was the last straw. No more chances for this niggah. Bitchass niggah. I’m airing this niggah out. Always running his mouth, talking shit. Well, this is going to be his last night. I’ma cash his ass on and leave him stretched out. I’m in the block waiting on him. Strapped up with the nine and a half inches, titanium ice pick, with the rubber grip and strap. Believe me, ain’t nobody trying to get hit with this shit. All that hot air and talk, well I’m airing him out with this shit. I’m waiting on this bitchass niggah. He was yapping with his gums so he better hope the doctors and nurses got love for him and that God is on his side cause he is getting it!
I’m wait until he goes in his cell or to that shower. That’s his usual routine at yard recall. I’m run down on him and give him the business. Silly ass niggah, always talking that fake gangster shit about what he had, what he got, what he’ll do, what he did or what he supposed to have done. Always in someone else’s business, now he got into mine and that is a big mistake. Wrong move niggah. I need to let him know that shit is real. Shit is real with this piece of steel. I’m in the pen, and I’m going hard. Fuck all that fake ass bamma shit.
Ain’t nothing to talk about now. We ain’t peacing up shit!! I gave him too many chances. So an example has got to be made. Anybody can get it, even you. Ain’t no faking it. I don’t play with niggahs. Especially ones I can’t cool with. I mean tight, my circle of comrades is real small. I don’t play the TV like that unless its sports or the news. I’m a real Gorilla Convict, doing hard time. Twelve years in, with twelve to go. I knuckled up with the best of them. But this dude? He got to feel something. He got to know that shit ain’t no fucking game. Not with me. No way. I’m on some ninja shit. He ain’t gonna have his homies with him, and if they around they ain’t trying to get involved with this and get hit up with the bone crusher I got. No way. They don’t want it. Believe me.
I got my prison issued khakis on and my prison issued safety boots. I’m dressed and looking like GI Joe cause its work call when this bitchass niggah comes in at recall. I’m painting his cell red with his blood. It will be DNA city in there. I got the ice pick in my waist, but I’m strap up as soon as he enters his cell. They just announced “Yard Recall” over the intercom throughout the prison institution. Yeah, it’s on like popcorn now. Knowing him he is dragging his feet, still yapping amongst his bitchass friends. I hope he is saying his goodbyes.
Boom, he just came in. Walked and cleared the metal detector. Now he’s coming up the stairs, but he stops to talk, he’s always running his mouth. I’m watching him from the other side of the unit. I’m strapping up the ice pick to my hand, then carrying a towel to conceal it so I can journey to his spot without heads seeing the weapon. He looks and sees me but still running his mouth. Now he daps his homeboy and heads to his cell. He goes in, a few seconds later he throws the towel up over the door to cover the door window and shuts his cell door. Sweet. I speed toward his cell, it’s about to go down. I make it to his door, grab the handle and pull it open and run in, closing it and slamming it behind me. He is sitting on the toilet with his pants down to his ankles with a Vibe magazine in his lap.
He sees me and screams, “Yo!! What’s up? Yo!! What’s going on?” As he jumps up trying to pull his pants up. I rush him and drop the towel. I hit him with a left to the face. The ice pick is strapped to my right hand. His arm goes up as the pick goes right through. He is screaming for his life, “Wait!! Wait!! C’mon man. Please!!” I stab him in his shoulder, arm, back, stomach, even his face.
“Yeah you, bitchass niggah. What’s up now? Run your mouth now bitch!!!” I say as I release my anger that was built up. he tries to fight me back but he is bleeding and can’t get out the door without getting past me. I won’t let him up. I attack non-stop. He is letting me punch him with the left. He is trying to avoid the right. He is screaming, “Help me!! Help me!!” I knew this niggah was a bitch.
He ain’t fighting back no more. “You got it man, you got it. Please!! Please don’t kill me!!” He says as I stop attacking him. Than he rushes me, but as I embrace for us to collide I continue my attack. He runs right past me and to the door. I stab him in his back twice more as he pushes the door open, wide open, screaming “C/O, C/O!! Help!!” Everyone is looking up to his cell and sees me with the ice pick. He is drenched in his blood. I got all his blood all over my khakis. Fuck that!!
I chase after him as he runs down he steps, slipping and tumbling. I’m still trying to work him. I get to stab him in his butt cheeks. Yeah I stabbed that bitch in his ass cheeks as he runs towards the C/O’s office like a bitch with me right behind him. I spin off. Got to get rid of this ice pick. The knife is so beautiful though I don’t want to dump it but we must depart. It’s a necessity. I make my way to the nearest cell and stuff if down the toilet and flush it. I don’t know if that’s even possible but I got to try something.
I hear the deuces going off. Within 30 seconds to a minute tons of C/O’s will be arriving, they come deep with pepper spray and rubber bullet semi’s. As the C/O’s rush in, running, the bitchass niggah is laying on the floor screaming and pointing to me as I go to get rid of the ice pick. I told you he was a bitch. Loud mouth bitchass niggah.
Don’t be next cause anybody get it, even you.
Check out Shakim Bio’s Love Hell or Right
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