Introduction To Hard 2 Da Kore (Hard2daKore Book 1) Read Online Free Page A

months, days and years crept by, I began to notice all of the drama that went on in the streets more and more. Whatever went on out in the streets, one of the other kid’s parents would talk about it right in front of all of us, and it only made me want to see what was going out there in the streets.
    All of the whos whats wheres whens whys and how’s was starting to click inside my head. I wanted answers to questions that I didn’t know how to ask, but was determined, even destined to find out. When I got old enough to venture out on my own, my first plan was to start contributing to my household and make things easier for my mother. I knew that making money would solve a lot of the problems we were having back then. I started hanging with the older kids who shuffled and hustled on the low. They sold anything they got their hands on, or should I say anything that they stole, but all of that changed once I met Owee. Owee sold smack for some of the older heads in the neighborhood. He paid me a few cents to watch his stash as he ventured around the neighborhood making his transactions to fiends. He even sold to the uppity white folks that seemed to need to have the product he sold.
    Owee hung out with Paris, Nut Nut and Man Bee, who all did the same thing. They would swap me to each other to watch their backs while they made their moves. From the very start I was fascinated by it all. I was young, but big for my age. I was just as tall as most of the older guys back then, if not taller. I was ready to get my hands on some of that stuff they were selling, and making some of that fast money they were making. When that day finally came, and Owee gave me my first package of some packaged white powder to sell, it was off to the races for me. I was out making money selling $5 bags of smack. I felt like I was on my way to being just as big and just as paid as the rest of those that were making big money. Even though I had to turn all of my money in to Owee after I was done, making my first hustle felt better than anything that I had ever done before.
    My first cut off of my first package sold was only about $25, but it felt like a million. I felt I was on my way to getting rich, but deep down I knew that $25 a day was nothing compared to what I could make if I applied myself more. As bad as I wanted to run out and spend it, I knew that wouldn’t be smart because I would be right back broke again. I remembered how much my father would say how much of “Po’ Folk” we was. So in my mind, I convinced myself that no matter how much money I made, I was still a Po’ Boy, and that’s when I became the Po’ Boy, and nothing, and nobody was gonna stop this Po’ Boy from getting rich. As long as I kept reminding myself that I was just a Po’ Boy, and not spend my money stupidly. Getting rich shouldn’t be a problem. After I got my first taste of a few dollars, my next step was to take a bigger bite, and then an even bigger one. I began to run hard and fast and faster and harder than everbody else, and my clientale grew just as fast.
    When my crew slept I was making money, and when my crew was making money, I was right out there making money right along with them. Near or far, and sleep became a luxury that I couldn’t afford, so I slept less. I was hardly tired anyway. I had gotten so tired of being poor and hungry, and seeing my mother struggle so hard. I was letting nothing or no one stop me from climbing the ladder of success on these streets. I started out as nobody with nothing, but with all the eager and determination I had. I had positioning myself to be one of the most powerful pushers in the history of downtown Detroit.
    After the boys I rode up with introduced me to the dealing game, I became willing to do , or how these young boys say these days, I was down for whatever to get the job done. I started out as just a runner, but I moved up fast. When I finally got that chance to meet our boss, I was ready to let him know he