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- Growing Up Bronx
I was walking back from the store when what appeared to be a homeless man started to walk next to me. He spoke to me and asked how I was doing, I responded that I was all good. He said, that’s good man, that’s good. I’m out here hustling trying to survive, feel me? Yeah, I feel you. So after a few more casual words were exchanged, he asked me if I had any cash that I could give him. I said that I did not carry cash on me and kept walking.
This is where my man became a bit troublesome. “Come on now papi, you telling me that if I check in your pockets I won’t find any money?” I looked at him and I replied that if he TRIED to check my pockets he better be a much better fighter than I am or at least be packing some heat. He was taken aback and kind of pulled away from me at that point. Satisfied that I had driven my message home, I concluded that the conversation ended then.
Look, I’m friendly to everyone, and when I feel like it, I give people some change or money. But if you think you are going to intimidate or force me to give you that which I have worked for, then you better have a knife, gun, or at least be able to kick my ass.
Yo for real, people out here be bugging out. Do I really look that soft? Do I give off the energy that you can come up to me and simply go in my pockets without any consequences? Get the fuck out of here with that shit!
Growing Up Bronx