I’ve said this before but, living a street life is a life full of paranoia. You’re constantly watching your back, watching your people’s back, being careful of the women you deal with and weeding out the fakes so you can deal with real people who respect that layer of The Game. One of those Hustlers I had the honor of knowing was a Jamaican. He moved to America with his family and ran with a small crew here in Atlanta. Out of respect, I’ll just call him A-Z. A-Z was a bona-fide street Hustler who decided to leave the stress-filled life behind and live like an average square. His main motivation was his family. He found a regular job but still kept an ear to the streets. I met A-Z through a mutual friend; one of my Ladies who was an ex-stripper. I’ll just refer to her as, Shawni. Shawni grew up in Chicago. She was well familiar with various street games but slowed down when she fell head over heels with the father of her first child. She left the street life and became a devoted mother. She already came equipped with Game, which was a plus in my book. To continue the story, click “Read More”.
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Story time again! So, what makes a Hustler? Travel with me as I relate stories of moments that changed my life. This story in particular because I almost lost my life.
(In the spirit of being honest, I had to alter some of the story’s events. Everything did happen, but I had to omit some details out of respect for a particular individual – street code, you know…) This is a long one so settle in. It’s good though, I promise. Click “Read More” to continue… I used to live in a world just below yours. The Underworld is a world that operates with a different set of rules and laws than what many of you are accustomed to. It’s a place where a person has to rely on their reputation to speak for them, long before they say a word. A place where you are judged not by a court of law, but by those you associate with. It’s a place where a person has to use whatever resources they have available and where the penalties of crossing too many lines are severe. Here are some observations from that period of my life. This particular one had a drastic and profound effect on me. When a group of street Hustlers get together there’s going to be A LOT of talking. We used to talk about everything – the latest movies, who made the best album that year, old “war” stories, women we wanted to have, women we already had, what happened last night, what happened the night before that, what was going to happen later that night, sports, and changes in the street Game. You could also tell the mentality of a street Hustler by the way they talked about money and life. They could “front” and make up whatever stories they wanted, but conversations about money and life would eventually reveal how that Hustler truly thought. For example, the wisest among us knew that money wasn’t real – that it’s just a tool and system of exchange. And there are other tools and systems of exchange. You could lack a lot of actual money but still be living very comfortable (that’s some Game for another time). You may be surprised (or maybe not), but street Hustlers are a pretty sensitive bunch. Not sensitive as in emotional, but sensitive in the way they’re able to pick up on other people’s behavior. You had to be this way, you had to notice shifts in people’s behavior and attitudes. A few wrong mistakes in that area could be costly. It’s a paranoid lifestyle sometimes. Anyway, I digress… It was either spring or summer, my Game was paying me very mediocre at this time. I lived not too far from a very seasoned street Hustler whom I’ll just call, Double A. Double A and I didn’t speak much, our personalities didn’t mesh well. He was one of those street Hustlers that made a lot of money, but was comfortable living like he was broke. At the time he made much more money than me but our living conditions were similar. This was a violation of The Game because The Game is about Advancement and Growth; always improving and being better this year than you were the last. I ran into him as I was about to get on the city bus. “Peace Shah (my street Hustler name at the time)!” he said with his New York accent. “Double A! What’s up with you?” I responded. We talked about the usual sense (and non-sense) as we waited on the bus. When it finally arrived we boarded it and took seats near the back. The bus was fairly empty so we were able to stretch out a bit and get comfortable. We talked about more sense (and non-sense) until we got on a very interesting topic. “Let me ask you a question, Shah. Are you married?” Double A asked. “Man, you know I’m not married. What kind of question is that?” I said. He pointed at his ring finger as he spoke, “Married to your hustle, nigga! Are you married to your hustle?” This was one of those moments where you notice that a street Hustler isn’t acting like his usual self. It’s not that the question was odd – it was the fact that HE asked it which made it odd. “Being honest,” I said, “I don’t plan on doing this street shit forever.” Double A nodded, “Nah Shah, you’re missing the point. Check this B, this is how I look at my Hustle. My Hustle is like my wife. I protect her, I respect her, I honor her, I feed her, I clothe her – you know, the whole nine. It’s me and her against the world, you feel me? Niggas need to marry their ideals and stop flirting with other weak shit.” What he said didn’t hit me then. If fact, it didn’t hit me until months later. What Double A gave me was an extremely strong Perspective on life in general; not just the street Hustle. What he gave me is something I took with me the rest of my life – being committed. This commitment can extend to a goal, an ideal, your Principles and even a life Purpose. You must take what you want VERY serious. Serious like you would think about a marriage. If you loved your wife or husband you would put them on a pedestal to certain degree. You would do what it took to keep them. You wouldn’t cheat on them and you wouldn’t abandon them when things got rough – if you really loved them. So how much are you in love with your aspirations and goals? How committed are you? You’re not truly committed if you allow contradictory goals and ideals to come into your mind. That’s like flirting with another woman or man with the intention to sleep with them. In other words, that’s cheating! Your heart should only belong to your wife or husband – what you truly want out of your life. Someone else doesn’t like you and your new Bae? Pay them no mind. No one should be able to break you up – no one should be able to come between you two. And if you have to fight with other people who try to violate your relationship with your ideals, Principles and goals, then you’re going to have to fight. Or find a means to get them out of your life. It’s this mentality that separates the men and women from the boys and girls. Are you married to your goals, ideals, Principles and/or life Purpose? Because if you’re not, you’re just interested – meaning you’re just flirting; you’re just dating. And that’s not true commitment. All of us only have a certain amount of time. Don’t waste it. Clearly decide on what you want out of life and marry it. Stop going in half-heartedly – stand up and fully commit. Put a ring on it! Peep Game. Until next time… Curious about the Game? Subscribe to the Uncommon Sense Adviser – Higher level Game to help take YOUR Game to the next level. Also receive news, discounts on future books and products along with early access. Join now by clicking [HERE]. Here’s a story I pulled from the archives. All this happened about 7 or 8 months ago. It’s not a deep story or anything but it does illustrate how you take the Principles you live by and apply them constantly. Remember, the lifestyle you choose should be your dominant frame of mind – the way you think all day, every day.
Jump into the Game by clicking “Read More” below for the full post. Make no mistake. Street Hustling involves a ton of risk. I was taught a very important lesson during my time Hustling on the streets. It was a long time ago, I don’t remember what time of year it was but I know the weather wasn’t too hot. I was in Atlanta of course and at this time in my Hustle my Game was slowly expanding. I lost a couple of spots (established territory where I made money), pushed out by police who suspected what I was doing but could never actually catch me. I told you before, a real Hustler moves on a first and not on a second. I moved “in-between” time. I'll let the squares figure that one out. I was at one of my re-up spots (location where you get product). It was nestled in the basement of a hair salon which had its own outside entrance. You had to park your car in the back which was great because you couldn’t really calculate the foot traffic going in and out just by looking from the street. The spot was quite when I walked through the door. I was running a little behind schedule that day so I missed the usual Hustlers coming in and going out to get on their grind. The seller was a young African. Actually I think he was only a year or two older than me, but he had what I didn’t have at the time. Good positioning in his Game and a nice bankroll. He didn’t need to hit the streets anymore; his only exposure was to fellow Hustlers. And this, to be honest, wasn’t too much different than ducking and dodging the eyes of the streets. Street Hustling can be very stressful. It breeds uncomfortable paranoia – you find it hard to trust people. I pulled out my list of what I needed and began to gather my products. I was always very organized. I tracked everything – what sold, how many, how much I spent, also how much I grossed and netted per day. I invested my re-up money in the new and hot and scaled back on the old and cold. I also took orders for regular customers and did my best to accommodate them. It was just good business. The young proprietor, we’ll call him Hasan, sat down in his usual office chair when things were slow and watched his small color television. He had a movie in the DVD player and was eating something which I didn’t recognize. “How long you been coming here?” Hasan asked with a mouth full of food. And even then, I could still hear his words laced with African accent. I thought for a moment, “I guess about two years off and on.” Hasan shook his head and continued, “You know I asked around who was the most beloved,” he chewed a little and continued, “A lot of people said you.” This was a shock to me. I was cool with a lot of people in the circle I ran in. As far as being the most beloved… I would have never guessed. When I think back I figure it was mainly because I was trustworthy and understood the business from their Perspective. I had to; it was part of my Game. “What’re the streets like these days?” Hasan asked. “Not too much different I guess. Fools with no Hustle are driving the price down though. Selling three for tens. But I got a good spot locked down,” I replied. “Yeah. Heard about the three for tens. People asking me to drop my prices. But I like to sell quality. Quality costs more,” Hasan said. “Exactly, same here. That’s why I fuck with you,” I said. Hassan went on to offer me a very tempting opportunity; something that would elevate my Game. More work but more money and more risk as he would soon point out. “Think of it like this Shai (my hustler name at the time), we both take risks everyday. What’s the point of taking all these risks when you’re just going to live like everyone else? When I take my wife out, I take her to the best. Real Hustler shit. We have our own waiter – he stands right there at the table the whole meal. People don’t live like that, but they don’t take the risks we do either.” I shook my head in agreement. I had never thought about the Game from that Perspective before. I later learned that Macks used to do similar things quite often. It wasn’t just Hustlers that made moves like that; this was universal Player behavior – and a true Hustler is a Player. So, here I was, risking my freedom almost every single day. At any moment I could be “knocked” – locked-up and sitting in a jail cell. I was stacking money but I didn’t do anything with it. It wasn’t about spending foolishly; it was about reaching and living above average. The Game I got that day during that conversation was simple. When you’re reaching for things in life, that reaching involves taking risks. And if you’re taking more risks than the average person, why live like the average person? What’s the point of it all? Why not just have a regular 9-to-5 job? This isn’t a lesson about the criminal mindset – if you look up the word entrepreneur in the dictionary you will run across the definition where it defines an entrepreneur as a person who takes financial risks. Risks are risks - and no layer of the Game is immune to them. Reaching is a concept that should be embedded in anyone who is on the path to break out of their average shell. I left the spot that day with a new Perspective swimming around in my mind. After thinking about it for a couple of days I made a decision. If I was going to be a Hustler then I had to live like a Hustler – anything less would be uncivilized. Keep it moving. Until next time... Curious about the Game? Subscribe to the Uncommon Sense Adviser – Higher level Game to help take YOUR Game to the next level. Also receive news, discounts on future books and products along with early access. Join now by clicking [HERE]. |
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