Hot Boyz

Chapter Four:

Hot Boyz Becomes a Rap Group

I woke up in my bed.

I had no flipping clue what happened the other night, but I heard my phone vibrate on the wooden nightstand next to me.

It was from Bridget.

All I could think was the text was gonna be either: "Last night was great," or "Why didn't you come?"

I didn't know which of those outcomes would've been the good one, but I opened my phone and to my relief it said, "I'm happy u didn't come. My rents came home early,"

I was so relived I almost went back to sleep, but I didn't. I got up and went to the skate park, and I saw Deuce and Cojo talking.

I was curious about what my two friends (I guess Cojo was my friend…) were talking about. Zeke wasn't anywhere around, so I just walked up to Cojo and Deuce.

"Hey, Luther," Deuce said, before I said anything, "Me & Cojo were talking, and we don't think Hot Boyz should be a gang, but a rap group,"

"What?" I said, out of surprise.

"Yea," Cojo said, "A gang is bad, and we could get in legal trouble and go to jail just for saying we're a gang. So, if we turn into a rap group, just a few of us, not everyone, we could make the first skateboarding-centric rap group. We could make some money recording in my studio and selling CD's,"

"Well…" I said, "Just the three of us?"

"Zeke can join, but I don't think he can rap. I remember, you can rap," Deuce said.

"Yea, but I'm better in my sleep!" I said.

"But," Cojo said, "You can get better. Just rap under your breath about everything. Like… 'Me and my boy Deuce, We got something for Yous, We got that Skater swag and we don't know what to do' Something like that!"

I thought and finally said, "Fine,"

"Cool," Deuce said, "Meet us at Cojo's house, he's got a studio in his basement,"

000000000000000000

I walked to Cojo's house at about 3 o'clock and when I walked in, Cojo motioned for me to follow him.

Down in his basement there was a recording booth and 2 laptops. Cojo was really blessed when it came to electronics. He's got an iPad, two iPods, and 2 MacBooks.

"Let's go, I got the 'Racks' beat. You wanna do that beat?" Cojo asked, sitting at the computer.

"Huh?" I said stupidly.

"For you to rap to. I got a beat and it's from the rap song 'Racks' and I think you'd like it," Cojo said.

"Oh, right, I've heard that song. YC, right?" I asked.

"Yup," Cojo said, "Now, do you know the rhythm?"

"Yea, I can do it," I said, confident.

"Okay, get those headphones on, step up to the mic and let her rip… or rap…" Cojo said.

I walked up to the mic, put the headphones on and just let loose on the beat:

"I can fuck with crap skaters, I can't touch these hoes neither, wake up early in the morning, eat that pussy like cold pizza, hater ass skater be ball blocking, act like some goal keepers, there's a reason for everything, but my people kill for no reason, camel shark with a whole beater, all black hoodie I'm grim reaper, look's like it's time for spring cleaning, brand new spanking street sweeper, been in the game I'm knee deeper, I like good head, I like good reefer, all my people strapped and ready to set it off, Queen Latifah, got a chopper with a drum, split swishers with my thumb, get money like Donald Trump, double barrel on that pump, this kush got ain't no jump, get stupid and get stomped, two girls I call them kriss kross, kriss kross'll make you jump, gotta do what a skater gotta do, got goals, I ain't even gotta shoot, got a bunch of bad bitches by the pool, I like my bitches in twos, got a coal I stick it and move, G-Code I stick to the rules, last night I got so high, swear to God I went to the moon, I'm on that choo-choo you can't get no where, you're a pussy, but don't go there, if I don't do nothing, I'ma ball, no hair, smoking on that oh yea, my skaters tout that hardware, what about it, my dudes, bout that welfare, real skater since day 1, cause I ain't promised day two, throw that pussy at me, bitch I think I'm Babe Ruth, drop top maybach on the way, got that land away, she let me in her jungle I'ma hit her with that rattlesnake, guns clap like patty-cake, blood gang red bang in ya face, make them pussies pop themselves, you can call that masturbate, I don't front, no barricade, I get high, I gravitate, Waffles F Baby, and the F is for Fucking Great, Gilroy, I'm from that park, I'ma get this Ferrari and park, better run, no Forrest Gump, fuck you and where you from, 3-2 I am the 1, job well done, I ball 24/7 365, 12 months, what's up red bone, what's up caramel, come to Luth's world, it's a fairly tale, yea I'm bitch, bitch I parasail, I am fucking great, sorry cause I'm late, thank you,"