Black made his money highjacking trucks, robbing warehouses and payrolls. We all made crazy money, but me and Freeze wanted to, needed to, make some money on our own. “So what we gonna do, Nick? We can’t roll, so how we gonna get paid?” Freeze asked. We kicked around a bunch of stuff, but everything we thought of, either wasn’t worth the risk or wasn’t enough paper to make it worth the effort. It all came back around to the fact that fast, easy money was spelled D-R-U-G-S. Then it came to me. “Look, who’s making the money?” “Dope boyz,” Freeze replied. “Right, so why can’t we get that money?” “‘Cause Black will kill us if we started rollin’, that’s why. And don’t you say that he’ll never find out. That mutha fucka is psychic about that shit. You ain’t forget what we did to Banks when Black found out he was dealin’? “No, I ain’t forgot. But who said anything about us dealin’?” “You did.” “No, I didn’t. I said why can’t we get that money.
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