Gangstas Dont Die
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Gangstas Dont Die
By Jermel Mouse ColemanLittles could feel the blood flowing from his head as he lay face down on the cold asphalt. For a moment, there was silence. He could hear his heart beating like a drum. He was conscious and trying not to panic. He could see car lights slowing up and driving past. His pace began to calm.
“Damn, where’s Tone?” Littles asked himself. He wanted to get up, but he couldn’t. Littles tried to concentrate and listen to the sounds that were around him. He heard voices, but they seemed to be so far away. Littles began to feel his life slipping away from him. Lying motionless in the street, he began to see images and scenes from his life. Memories of him as a child with his mother and father came to his mind.
“I’m sorry, Ma. I don’t know what I was thinking,” he cried.
Memories of him and Bam kicking it came next. Tears started to form and run-down Littles’ face mixing in with the blood. “I got dat bitch ass nigga for you,” he swore to his fallen comrade.
The pain he felt next was unbearable as he thought of Sharell. He could remember her pleas, begging him to get out of the life, but he was in too deep. The image of Sharell giving birth to their son came to mind. The thought of his son instantly replaced the pain and sorrow with a feeling of pure joy. “It’s on you now, baby boy,” Littles smiled as he pictured Lil Bam right there in front of him. Then he remembered the thoughts of his other homeboy Dwight.
“GANGSTA’S DON’T DIE! WE MULTIPLY!!”
With that thought, Littles closed his eyes and let the darkness embrace him…
Gangstas Dont Die
By Jermel Mouse ColemanLittles could feel the blood flowing from his head as he lay face down on the cold asphalt. For a moment, there was silence. He could hear his heart beating like a drum. He was conscious and trying not to panic. He could see car lights slowing up and driving past. His pace began to calm.
“Damn, where’s Tone?” Littles asked himself. He wanted to get up, but he couldn’t. Littles tried to concentrate and listen to the sounds that were around him. He heard voices, but they seemed to be so far away. Littles began to feel his life slipping away from him. Lying motionless in the street, he began to see images and scenes from his life. Memories of him as a child with his mother and father came to his mind.
“I’m sorry, Ma. I don’t know what I was thinking,” he cried.
Memories of him and Bam kicking it came next. Tears started to form and run-down Littles’ face mixing in with the blood. “I got dat bitch ass nigga for you,” he swore to his fallen comrade.
The pain he felt next was unbearable as he thought of Sharell. He could remember her pleas, begging him to get out of the life, but he was in too deep. The image of Sharell giving birth to their son came to mind. The thought of his son instantly replaced the pain and sorrow with a feeling of pure joy. “It’s on you now, baby boy,” Littles smiled as he pictured Lil Bam right there in front of him. Then he remembered the thoughts of his other homeboy Dwight.
“GANGSTA’S DON’T DIE! WE MULTIPLY!!”
With that thought, Littles closed his eyes and let the darkness embrace him…
