Rashid is an ex-con.
Description
Rashid was a roundbody darkskin bullethead nigga with dappy eyes, gappy teeth and a fatty neck, steady slapping his belly and laughing with machine gun lungs. He was always thick as a dick, lifting mad weights with the big boys, but he ain’t never work out in a organized way. He ain’t never do no cardio, so he got that stout-nigga booty, and his belly ain’t never go away. Rashid sat at the bar, nursing a whiskey and a phone, after his niggas was gone. Lipsweet emptied into quietude, and the only sound in Thumper’s ear was the smell of hungry pussy. Rashid be staring at them remnant females on his lonesome but ain’t none them give Rashid no mind. He only got a lapdance earlier when his niggas paid for it — he was a ghetto-nigga’s nigga, and them strippers and whores could smell his dollar-poor dick. They stayed away.
That was prison life sticking to him, Thumper reckoned. A free man can splurge on urges. A prison nigga hoards like a stingy dragon.
He got prison-brain. He stuck in that cell, nigga, he be getting violent at the drop of a hat, talk too rough for the girls, even the ghetto bitches. That dancer Ebonette say he lick pussy like it was a lollipop that slapped his mama.
That nigga was thick and soft like a mushy pillow, and he smelled like a crowded barbershop.
Rashid was a top-heavy nigga, squishy and dense like overstuffed pillows. Rashid was one them niggas who get chunky in prison — he ain’t got the will to work out on the regular or to stop scarfing down commissary honey buns. He do buy what the candy folk sell him on. Now that he was out though, he be dropping his donuts on calorie-free blunts and nibble-size sluts. Tale as old as time. Even slimmed down, he was still thick as alfredo though, and you know Thumper love a high-carb booty. He was mad on a reluctant front, all lifting hisself up and sucking on his teeth like he was too good to let a old head knock on his backdoor. He weren’t too good for nothing though, and under his gotta-fight shell, Rashid was cool as hot oatmeal.
Rashid was a thick-ass Blood, one of those guys who walked around prison without a shirt all the time like he wanted to show off his six-pack even though he wasn’t even close to having a six-pack. He had a small belly but a powerful chest, and he worked out with the “big men” — the muscle; enforcers for the gang — despite not being as strong as one. He had a loud mouth too and a big wide face like a football linebacker, not that he was ever coordinated enough to actually play football.
From Buck the Ex-Con
Free chapters