When I was a big time drug dealer in the street, I had 2 cars, one motorcycle and about $27k cash and I was 21 yrs old. I owed no one a dime and I had $4,500 worth of music equipment in the truck of my car, $3,500 dollars rims, almost $7-grand worth of jewelry (watch, ring, chain, medallion, earrings) and everything had diamonds in it. Clothes, shoes at an excessive number. I was comfortable, but I didn’t enjoy life cause while I had all this my life was a CONSTANT and I mean a CONSTANT HEADACHE!!!
The everyday movements of a drug dealer drains you. You gotta take the powder, then cook it, “whip it” into crack, gotta dry it out, weigh it, bag it up, gotta hide it, put it up until people call u to buy it. All day on and off, I have to drive around to meet people, my customers, while driving around my city with no license in high drug/crime areas, hoping I don’t get pulled over by police or set up by someone.
That kinda life style takes a toll on u. When I finished selling everything, I had to first hide my money somewhere that I feel it’s safe. I gotta trust my spot where I hold/hide my money.
Once everything is sold I gotta go and sit down and count all my money, bill by bill carefully, then I figure out exactly how much I have to spend to buy more coke, to re-do the same process again. After I figure that out, I bag my re-up money to buy the coke. I stuff it down in a zip lock freezer bag and tuck it away.
Then I call my contact, my plug — the person I buy my shit from. Then I’ll get a rental car and I’ll drive to New York or Atlanta and buy my coke and drive back on my own. Once I get back again, I gotta find me a secure/trusted location where I can begin the stretching and cooking, bagging, weighing process, to have it all weighted out, bagged and ready to sell.
This is the risk I had to take to stack money and be able to live the life I lived. Now, half the time I went out to clubs, met chicks, fucked. I drank a lot. I spent a lot of money at jewelry shops at the mall or just simply looking after family and messing with different women giving them money paying there bills.
I used to just throw so much money, it was defeating the purpose of hustling. All the people I gave money to, all the women I gave money to, paid their bills, bought their kids clothes and shoes, fed them with groceries ($400.00 packed a whole damn refrigerator and freezer so her 2 kids wouldn’t go hungry).
I still wasn’t comfortable, I was always looking behind me, watching mafuckas, kinda paranoid, had to pre think everything, watch certain people around me. so I really couldn’t relax cause if u do in the street someone will set u up or try to rob and shoot u and take every dime u have made. u gotta duck the police the feds and all the jealous envy hating mafucka who want what u have or because your fucking a chic they can’t fuck. ALL GAME RULES APPLY PERIOD!!.
Now look at me. After selling drugs, I have no money, no respect, no love in the streets for a warrior who has put in work since the age of 12/13 yrs old. It’s a prime example of why I look at everything different and I’m attracted to what’s not the norm.
I understand now.
I get it now. Loyalty comes in all different shapes sizes and backgrounds and colors also races.