Preface part 2 (continued from pt1)

Waking up around seven am exhausted from tossing and turning in my sleep. after the attempted robbery My mind was racing I had to figure this shit out. I had texted my plug around 2 am but never got a response. I really didn’t know what he was thinking. Did he think that I was wrapped up in the shit from the previous night? Does he know i’m innocent, but assume i’m a major risk to the team and what he’s establishing? How could my livelihood be in jeopardy again behind a snake move? I had Just lost my step father to a robbery gone bad three months prior to this incident. This happened to be the move that placed me back in the drug game. Before my stepfather passed we had a situation set up so good all I had to do was sit back and collect my money. Of course I played a major role in the operation because I communicated with the plug and he dumped the drugs. But my stepfather took the danger factor out of it for me. I didn’t have to go meet up with these wolves in sheep clothes to make a buck. And even though he was a legend on these streets he still was a victim to the drug game. His death remains an unsolved murder, but from the looks of the crime scene he knew the mothafuckas that kilt him. There was no forced entry and he got smoked extremely late at night. My pops been in the game for a long time and he always stopped traffic before after hours. That was an inside job from someone he trusted I assume my stepfather never saw it coming.

I never thought my little brother would grow up without his father. He was only ten and wouldn’t have his father for the toughest years to come. I mourned everyday thinking about how my mother feels at night. I cry thinking about how strong she has to be still. When will she get a break and have complete happiness in love, but not feel love taken repeatedly? Can she maintain sanity for the sake of her children? The last thing she can handle is to hear her oldest daughter went out the same way as her love. How could I put myself and my family in this situation?

Figuring out who tried to rob me wasn’t going to be hard. The difference between me and my pops is

He has a long clientele list and a circle of flunkies. We didn’t know where to tell the police to start besides his cellphone call log. But me on the other hand I only fuck with a selected few and I’m about to pen point just who did this fuck shit. One thing I will not do is sit back and be fucked.

Preface part 1

I can’t believe this nigga tried to rob me. After all the love I show with this hustling shit. These broke niggas always trying to fuck up the game.

We right here in the middle of the map where the only thing they no is stress. I come threw with the cali plug and can’t run threw a whole pack without the scum of kc showing their true scandalous Kansas mentality.

Getting back into the game I knew the risk that came with it. There were plenty of ways To take a lose in the game like losing packs in transport, middleman’s running off with a fronted pack and fucking up they lifeline over crumbs, or not having the product for the price my circle required; and of course getting smoked in a robbery.

In my heart I decided years ago I wouldn’t go back to slanging dope. I had painted the image of dealing drugs As being back at the bottom of the pyramid. Waiting on one man to go to work and bring you his income and in return you supply his habit. But this time it was different.
I wasn’t nineteen slanging crack with some young cats down in the projects in a crackheads house; or out of my car getting in high speed chases at the sight of every police car.

Here I am twenty seven black female; an ex felon with a college degree a kid and one on the way. And I elevated you can say in the drug game. I took a vow to never provide a product to the streets that I wouldn’t smoke myself.
Mary Jane was the product and the squad was way more established than the flunkies I associated with when I caught my first dope case.

I had my own spots now to conduct business out of and the re up wasn’t a few hundred dollars. I was a mini queen pin compared to every other hustler I knew in the game. Running threw twenty packs in days and keeping the bread flipped to maintain my investments and previous labor.
And I think that’s where I began to pick up my frienemies. Like flint Michigan the water was tainted but instead of lead and iron it was diluted with hate and envy. Knowing the environment I chose to set up shop in this shit came with the territory

Made under pressure

Hello, my name is Diamond Fuse. I’m 28 a college grad, an ex felon, and a mom of two with one on the way!!! Life has given me what I’ve asked for even when I didn’t know that’s what I asked for. I did a YouTube video for a company called Fresh out I gained a lot of views and summed up my story is bigger and bolder than I’ve accepted. From high speed chases to rape; from robberies turned into homicides; from grandparents strung out on drugs to lively hood being substained by drugs. The twist and turns too my real life is a roller coaster experience turning into an amazing novel for so many to relate to or just soak up some game. Help me on my journey as I self heal while compose a novel that will change my life.