Tuesday, September 18, 2012

"Let's Get Rich!"

Those were the words said to me by Mylez in a loud and very vibrant club on a Sunday night.

What's goin on Bull Penners?

I think I might have touched this topic a few times before, but some things really don't get old, at least to me. And maybe the more I talk about it the more I'll remain motivated to achieve the goal at hand.
I know I've probably lost you so let me get you a map.

I was at club Amnesia a few Sundays ago with Buddy to celebrate a friends birthday party. If you didn't know, club Amnesia is literally designed to stunt. For those who are slang impaired (I want everyone to be on the same page with me on this one,) stunt means to show off and basically make a spectacle of yourself in public. The club has very little dance floor room, and everything else is a bar and V.I.P areas. So basically, you walk in and your in a large, dark living room. I can live with that, most times I don't need a whole dance floor to cut a rug, that is if I even feel like dancin that night. The bar is to the left, and everything else is your space to roam, that is if you and your friends are spending money on bottles.
This is basically why I don't like clubbin. Bottle service and stuntin ass niggas who don't mind spendin money on bottle service ruined the club scene. I like to imagine that before I turned 18, clubbin was different. You could go in, and admission wasn't $40 (which is what is was for me that night) buy a drink for 8-10 bucks, find a girl to grind on and V.I.P was reserved for the club owner conductin whatever form of meeting he was having with potential clients or whatever. But then again I have no idea if this is all my imagination based on old movies or if that's actually how it was. Regardless the point is clubbin today sucks.

That night tho, it sucked even more! Lol. Don't get me wrong, the party itself was very poppin! Mad women, a few horses, and the drinks were definitely over flowin. However I found myself in V.I.P with Buddy and the birthday boy. I found myself feeling the way you would when you were a kid and your mom couldn't find someone to watch you for the night but she was still gonna go on with her plans. So you ended up being the only kid in a room filled with adult, smoking and drinking and telling jokes you wouldn't get for another 15 years. Laughing living life like it's golden, meanwhile you're somewhere in the background bored out of your skull with 3% battery life left on your GameBoy! Lol. Vivid enough for you? But I'm sure you're askin yourself, "Well, you're old enough to club, and everyone in the club is your age at least, why would you feel so out of place." I'll tell you why:

I work a regular 8-5 day job. I wake up at 6:06am every morning just to be able to make it to that day job at 8am sharp. I get ready, I take a train for about 35-45 minutes, and I work from Monday morning to Friday afternoon. On Friday when I receive my check there's responsibilities I have that need to be taken care of: rent, phone bill (once a month), a Metro Card (Weekly--although I should buy monthly) gas money for the weekend (cause I drive more than I should on the weekends) and of course money for food to last me til the next week. (I know I should cook and bring in my own lunch but leave me alone, we aint talkin about that right now) Lol. So after all those priorities are sorted out I'm left with enough money to hang out and chill, I budget so that I don't have to live check to check, however I don't have enough to live as lavish as I'd like. This is where the point of the blog comes in.

That night at the club we were surrounded by niggas. I don't mean young black men I mean Ignorant Niggas! Lol.

The club is dark, the floor has a pulse, the speakers are blaring, and the DJ is shouting out all the big names who are present. The darkness is momentarily pierced by the sparkles coming off the top of expensive bottles of liquor being brought to people standing on couches. The strobe light from the ceiling shines bright enough and for just enough time for you to notice the young nigga in the middle of V.I.P 2 ft. behind me burning a $100 bill with the same lighter he just lit his blunt with. Wow!
As if that wasn't enough, money starts to magically fall from the sky, $50's and $20's float and flutter by as if they were party streamers and confetti at a championship game set prior to the party. Guys rippin up money and throwing it into the crowd. A guy comes up to the birthday boy and hands him $500.00 and tells him in his ear "That's for you!" The party continues around me, shortly after the Birthday boy grabs the mic and asks the DJ to turn the music off to make an announcement. As about 8-10 more bottles and sparkles pass by the birthday boy says "Shout Outs to 'Such and Such' Team, they spent $9Stacks in here tonight!" ('Stacks' means thousand for those who are slang impaired again, so that's $9,000)

No ladies and gentleman, this is not a movie or a dream. I am telling you a real life story that I personally experienced alongside Mylez with my own two eyes, and ears. Now remember the break down I gave you of my work week and check etc.? Well now at this point I'm left with my own thoughts completely mentally alienated from the party and wondering "What the fuck do these niggas do?" Lol. It's a hypothetical question of course cause I know what they do. No way in hell that these dudes wake up at 6am to be at work at 8am, to work hard from Monday morning to Friday afternoon, receive a regular 3-digit number check, pay off their phone bills for their expensive iPhones and pay rent and still manage to spend $9000 on a random Sunday night just for the sake of stuntin. They have to be drug dealers. So Buddy puts his arms around me and says "Ayo, Let's Get Rich b!" I know he had to be thinking the same thing I was, I immediately responded "Let's do it!" The night winds down and the club is letting out. Buddy and I begin our walk once block up to get back to the car only to see a fleet of brand new expensive cars driving by. Yup, you guessed it, same niggas from the club driving Maserati's, BMW's and Mercedes-Benz's... Keep in mind none of these dudes is older than 23, 24. Brooklyn is obviously gettin it huh?

Lol, I don't know how me and Buddy gonna do it, cause we damn sure aint gonna sell drugs, but we gotta get rich. And not for the reasons you may think. I don't wanna do what these dudes are doin, I don't wanna have money just to show out at the club, I don't want it to be able to buy a $900 pair of sneakers that I'll only wear once, but I wanna know that I can put money in my moms hand just cause. I wanna know that my mom has no debt and her rent is paid off ahead of time. I wanna by able to provide for me and my fam, take a few vacations and not have to worry about that same ol' Monday-Friday, 8-5 vicious cycle. I just wanna be comfortable.

This post might have came off with an envious tone, but that's not it at all. It's not envy, jealousy, hate or anything like that. It's just a realization that I can be doing a lot more than I'm doin with myself. This whole thing balls down to ambition.
I obviously don't know how I want to end this post exactly but I guess I'll just say 'Get Your's!'


Stay Up and Stay Tuned

1 comment:

BrookiiBrooke said...

I always enjoy reading your posts. Kudos to you for realizing you can get that money without selling drugs! Ambition is priceless and I believe you will receive all the blessings you deserve. Keep on keepin on! :)