I was looking forward to killing him

I was looking forward to murdering him, I really was! I relished  the thought, played it out in my head , over and over.

He was huge, over six five, "swoll" , athletic. I knew I needed an "equalizer", a big gun. The wonderful racist white man that owned the Gun Store in Nashville, Tennessee did ask me why I needed a gun. I do remember proudly and loudly responding; "GOT ME A NIGGA' TO KILL!" 

WE both fell out laughing, both dead serious. 

He did advise me to not mention "our little secret" when applying for the license.  Strangely, while applying for a "license to kill" I met one of the finest, richest, dopest white men,  I had ever had the pleasure of meeting.

It was like in a movie, he swept me off my feet but stupid racism kept me loyal to the black -fucking -nigger -race. BULLSHIT! Ladies! Gentleman! Date who you want! Fuck lying ass signifying haters!

So, I blew that. Went back to the Gun Shop just like the one in Pulp Fiction.  The nice white racist man gave me free lessons in his basement (Just like Pulp Fiction).  I never missed. My first practice shot went dead through the paper target's head.

Long story short, I didn't kill him. GOD permitted my just as crazy brother to terrify the muthafucker! Yes, my brother laid that .38 H & R upside that wanna-be "gigalos" head.

Sometimes killing a nigga mentally is just as good as the real thing.

BEAMING!