Part II -
Kali is sent to prison for 7 years. Next part of the book is him beating down white boys for their candy bars, smacking around prison guards, charming female CO's, tranfering around prisons, joining prison gangs, and working out (there's a lot of working out in the book), and basically being a bad ass.
Out after 7 years. He stop at a Costco and intimidates a white boy, gets some pussy, and lives at his momma's house. He gets a job as a male stripper (named Mandingo), and trains people at LA Fitness for 12 hours a day. Then tragedy strikes -
"Things at the gym started picking back up and I was back to training about six clients a day. I was meeting some unique people while I was working as a trainer; in fact, I had this one client named Angel who let me know that if I ever needed weed or ecstasy pills to give him a call. At the time I was trying not to get involved in any illegal activities, so though I politely told him I would let him know if I did, I had no plans on taking him up on the offer. I had also started training a lot of horny ass women that were trying to get me to sleep with them but I was always afraid of mixing business with pleasure. I didn’t want a crazy ass woman that I had screwed to be coming up to my job harassing me at work, so I refused them all. It was weird, because I didn’t consider myself a real sexual person at the time, but women found me to be a sex magnet. I didn’t understand it, I mean, I was just trying to get rich, and sex was always the last thing on my mind.
Everything was going great with the personal training and the stripping. I was making enough money to do what I needed to do but of course I still wanted more, so I contacted that Angel client of mine and told him that I had some people ready to buy some good weed and ecstasy pills. Angel had me meet him at his house and when I got there I saw that he lived in a guest house off of a huge ass mansion. I went inside and he showed me the weed he had and how he sealed it to keep it fresh.
He had a few pounds of weed in the house and he asked me how much I needed and I told him a few ounces. I hadn’t sold weed in this quantity in years, not since I was in college, so I would have to learn the game fast, which wasn’t a problem because Spoiled knew how to sell every drug there was. After I got the weed from Angel, I immediately started making calls to all the weed heads on the block. They were all excited and waiting for me to bring the weed so that they could buy some.
When I got to E Street, I sold the weed I had got from Angel and I made a few hundred dollars profit off of it, which was a good day’s work for me. The next morning I woke up to the sound of my telephone ringing and one of my patnas called and said that the weed was cool but that it wasn’t the fire they were used to. He asked me if I could get something more potent and I told him I would look into it. I called Angel and told him that I had the money for the weed and I needed to talk to him, so he told me to come to his house. I got to his house in no time and I gave him the money that he had fronted me the weed for. I told him what had happened with the cats I sold the weed to, and I asked him if he could get something stronger than what he had and he said that he was waiting on another shipment to come any day.
I then told him that I needed some ecstasy pills and he told me that he would have them for me the next day. I told him I would see him when he was ready for me and I left. I went to the block and told the cats that I was getting some better weed and E-pills (as we called ecstasy pills), and they told me to let them know when I had them. I didn’t understand at the time how those dudes on the block didn’t have any connections and how none of them had done any time in jail. I guess that’s what you call block monsters, muthafuckas that don’t leave the block and meet people."
Kali's making good money stripping, training and dealing weed and ecstacy, then a few months later he gets into the crack trade through "Q" , a DJ on the stripper scene that dabbled in crack -
"A couple of days later I went to Q’s studio in San Leandro and he had a nice set up. He seemed as if he was a pro in the studio, and to my relief he was entirely different from the white music producer that did my music the last time. I mean, Q knew exactly how to do the music, the intro, and the finale of the CD. I guess with him being a veteran stripper he knew exactly what I wanted. Q and I hit it off and we started talking about the things going on in our lives. I don’t know how we got off onto the subject of cocaine, but we did. He started telling me about how his family were big time dope dealers in San Francisco and he could get anything at any time, so I called him on it. I told him that I had a neighborhood where I could move nine ounces easy every day. He looked at me and said, “Come on bruh, you can move nine ounces a day?” I told him yeah, with no problem, and Q told me that he was going to hold me to that and call me in a day or so with nine ounces. I thought to myself that the guy was another one of those talkative ass niggas, the ones that would just talk to get a guy to like him. After Q was finished making my CD, we shook hands and he said that he was going to call me in a day or so.
The next day came since Q and I had talked about our business venture and he actually called and told me to meet him at the studio. I couldn’t believe that that cat was following through on what he said he was going to do. It was kind of weird to me that a guy would give another guy nine ounces of coke when he had really only just met him a day before, so this dude was a gambler for real.
I went to meet Q at the studio and when I got there we shook hands and he told me to look in the bag that was on the floor. When I looked in it I saw nine rock solid ounces of crack. He told me that he only wanted $400 for each one, which was lovely for me because ounces were going anywhere from $500-$600 on my block. I was looking at a quick profit and turn around if, in fact, it was some good crack. It had to be good crack for me to sell it to the niggas in my neighborhood because they only bought the best. I grabbed the ounces and told him that I would call him when I was done and he said cool. I was totally shocked at this dude because he didn’t know me from Adam and yet he was forking over $3,600 worth of crack, which showed he had major balls."
Kali gives the dope to his street partners and is making good money, he's also conning 24 hour fitness -
"I started getting greedy with everything I was doing; in fact, I even started training clients under the table at 24 Hour Fitness, but the gym
management caught onto that fast. I thought I was slick at the time. I would train six clients for the gym, and then I would train six of my own. It was obvious what was going on with me because I went from being the top trainer in the country and in a month’s time to being the last ranked trainer in the franchise. The reason I went to the last trainer was because my sales of supplements and training sessions to clients dropped dramatically. The management team watched me one day while I was unaware and they realized that I was training 12 people but that I was only documenting six. I was called into the office after continuing on with that program for a month, and the corporate investigator told me that they knew what I was doing and that I had two options: I could either pay a fine of $500 back to pay the wages I didn’t give 24 Hour Fitness, or I could go fight a civil case in court. As soon as the corporate guy said court my heart started racing and I told him that I would be paying the fine. I was then told that I was no longer an employee with the company, so I packed up my things and told all my coworkers that it was nice knowing them and I left."
Kali now majorly in the dope game, and getting more pussy. Then more tragedy -
"I was selling a minimum of four ounces of chopped up crack every day. Off each ounce I sold I would make around $800-$900, so I was making anywhere from $3200-$3600 dollars a day. That’s not even counting the ounces that I used to sell to cats on the block, so I was definitely rolling. My life had got fucked up in a matter of days all because a guy from Brookfield was acting tough.
It was around 10:00 p.m. and my youngster Cam, a few other niggas and I were on the block waiting to sell the rest of the dope we had. One of the broads from the block came down the street screaming that some niggas were beating up Spoiled and Cam’s brother Twon. Cam and I grabbed our guns and ran down the street to get whoever was getting on our brothers. When we got down there, my brother wasn’t there but Cam’s brother Twon was, along with another youngster. They had busted up mouths from being hit by this guy from Brookfield who came to get revenge for the window of his van getting busted by one of the youngsters on the block. Instead of finding the person who did it, that guy took it out on whoever was from the block. When the guy from Brookfield did what he did, there were some other niggas with him and a few of them lived in the neighborhood. Once the situation got figured out, it was out of my hands but I knew that if a guy pistol whipped me he would definitely feel the wrath of my violence. Anyway, a few days had gone by since the incident had happened and I didn’t think anything more about it. Then the news had hit that one of the dudes that was with the guy from Brookfield lived down the street from the block and he got shot in the head sitting in a car in front of his house.
Two days after the youngster got killed, the word was out that anybody seen on E Street was going to get shot up. I was the only guy out on the block after the word had hit that it was war against us. On the third day I got word that my little brother had a warrant out for his arrest for the murder of the youngster that got shot. I couldn’t believe it because my brother wasn’t even in Oakland at the time of the murder; he had to do volunteer work for a ticket at the San Leandro boy’s club so I couldn’t understand how his name was even implemented in that shit. Once I got word, I called my little brother and told him to meet me at my apartment. Once he arrived, I sat him down and told him that he wasn’t turning himself in because the time I turned myself in I didn’t see the streets again for seven years. Spoiled was being the hard headed guy he was though, and so he went to the block anyway and 10 minutes hadn’t passed before he was apprehended by the Oakland police. My mother said that the police had picked him up on murder charges and that they were searching her house for any evidence they could find. What she told me next had me shook up like crazy. My mother said that while the police were searching the house they saw some pictures of me and started asking her questions. I immediately called my youngsters Cam and Bootsy to see if they wanted to go with me to Reno."
After gambling in Reno, is selling more rock to get his brother and friend out of jail, and after a few months -
"It was a good day on the block. I had made a ton of money and I was ready to go enjoy the rest of my night because it was only about 6:00 p.m. and I had sold practically all the dope I had. I asked my youngster Cam if he wanted a ride home because he didn’t have his car. He said as soon as he sold his last crack rock he was ready to go. I stood off to the side while Cam made his last sell of the night to a dope fiend we knew from the neighborhood. After Cam sold the fiend his last rock, we proceeded to leave the neighborhood and a van with tinted windows pulled up and the police jumped out of it and told everyone to freeze. I took off running towards my mother’s house with a police officer hot on my trail. Derrick and Darold were outside in front of their mother’s house and the cop and I zipped by them. I opened my mother’s gate and slammed it behind me which gave me a little time to throw the few rocks I still had into the bushes. I then jumped over a few more fences but the fucking police had every place I was running to surrounded. I ended up in the back of the apartments, where I initially ran from, and there were a ton of police waiting on me. They all saw me and told me to get on the ground. Once I did what they told me to, they started hitting me and one of the cops even pulled out his knife and cut off a few of my dreadlocks. He told me to cut that shit off and I was totally infuriated at what had just happened to me. I knew then that after 11 months on the streets, I was on my way back to prison"
Kali gets 10 months for this ( Parole Violation and being part of a crack sale).
Part Three Soon Maybe.
