Kemo's War Storiez: What Is Love?

In my hometown of Saint Louis, MO as well as other parts of the midwestern region I am recognized by hundreds of thousands of people for my gangster/commercial hip hop music (which to date has reached over 100,000 independent units collectively). But to my hood, my section, I'm known as a D-boy. I had a long run, continuously supplying the north Saint Louis metric tons of marijuana, the weed was so fire, niggas was calling my product 'KEMOTHERAPY'.  I was seeing a profit of 15 to 20 racks (thousand) every week.  Even though I grew up poor as hell I have always had a problem with giving.  I have always been the type of nigga that would give a muthafucka my last.  I never thought that was a problem until last year 4/9/08 to be exact.

I pulled up on a certain block in my hood in my new black on black Ford Expedition. A block that I had been pulling up on in different fly whips for years. On this particular day, I felt like giving back to a neighborhood that spent hundreds of thousands of dollars with me.  It was just getting dark and there was at least 30 bloods and about 20 chicks on the block celebrating a hood holiday. I've been knowing these n****s ever since elementary school so, I felt compelled to contribute to the festivities since I clearly had more scratch than all of these mutha******s put together.

I bought $200 worth of chicken wings from the local chinese joint and four fifths of Remy V.S.O.P. I also set out about three ounces of bud for n****s to get they high on. After a few hours, everybody was fucked up kickin it, I was sitting in the passenger side of my truck slumped over with my baby nine millimeter Taurus in my lap with one of the homies in the driver seat.  This heroin addict-shady-nigga that I have been knowing all of my life walks up to my side and asks me for a cigarette which he had to reach over my lap to get. I said, 'Get you one derty,' and instead of reaching over my lap, he reached for my gun, snatched it and pointed it at my face. I said, 'N**** do you know who you f****n with?'  He said 'Blood I aint playin dog I'll put yo ass on ice.' But instead of killing me he ran to his car and pulled off.

The remaining n****s on the block was telling me s*** like, 'Don't worry we'll get your gun back from that n***** blood, he just high and trippin.'  I said (as I was pulling off in my whip) 'Yall muthaf***** don't have to get s*** back for me I'm a grown muthaf***** man.' See, this was my hood but this wasn't my block if ya'll feelin me.

I went and got another strap and rode around all night in the pouring rain looking for that mutherf******. I vowed that I would not serve another drop of work until this n**** was dead. I have a reputation to uphold in my hood you dig? If word got around in the hood about a n**** taking from me in even the smallest way, then every other n**** would think that they could get the same s*** off on me. I'm not a killer but don't push me. 

The next day I went to his aunt's house and saw his car out front. I waited for him to come out and I followed him to a gas station. I jumped out of the van on the main street dressed in all black in broad daylight, I saw him pumping gas but he didn't see me inching closer and closer on foot. I was trying to get close enough to take his head off.

I was about 70 feet away from him when he just so happened to look up and saw a beast creeping up on his ass with a fat ass nine. His eyes got bucked like a slave and he dropped the gas pump and ran for his drivers seat.  'What's up now blood?' I said as I started bustin! I thought that he might have had my pistol and I'd have to shoot it out with his ass but apparently he sold it for heroin. I bust three shots at his head, the bullets went through the back w