littles is wieder ausm cafe viereck draussen
hab nen blog von ihm gefunden, das hier is vom 14.09
I will be walking out of Rikers Island a free man! The locked up vacation is over. The time that really counts in life starts now. Unlike many prisoners I'm leaving behind, I have a bright future ahead of me, a plan and like Lil’ Scrappy said in his song, I got money in the bank.
All I'm leaving this dump with is my hundreds of letters from family, fans and supporters that have held me down. Not too long ago I received a letter from a supporter and good friend named Church Boy. He sent me $200.00 that he and his church collected for me for my commissary. It’s not the money sent to me why I appreciate all the support I had doing this bid, it was where the money came from that touched me the most – a church. Thanks, homie!
I met a few convicts that I made promises to that may never see civilization again. One is Brent. He’s from Brownsville, Brooklyn. He’s currently serving a 25 to 50 year bid. Another is Nicko, who is serving 75 to life for three murders. All of these men are down here on Rikers Island in C74 from state prisons, trying to give back some of their time on appeal. I promised them all that every time they open up a magazine and see me, just know they will all be living their lives through me because sky is the limit for me this time around.
The worst part of being in jail has to be the jailhouse searches. Two to three times a week we get a surprise search. 20 to 30 officers pop up, yelling and screaming at wee hours of the morning, “Nobody moves! This is an institutional shakedown!” They then tell you to put some clothes on and sit on your bed with your fingers locked behind your head. Sit back and envision the scene. Out of 30 officers, 20 are men and 10 are women. Five of them are wearing military-style combat boot attire. Helmets, body armor, vests, night sticks, plexiglass shields, etc. This armor is a precaution. Just in case an inmate gets out of hand, he will easily get a beat down and restrained without being able to hurt the officer, due to the body armor they are wearing.
On Rikers Island, inmates are housed in housing areas that consist of cell areas or dorms. If you live in a cell area, you have your own cell with an automatic cell door that opens and closes. If you are housed in a dorm, 50 other inmates live side by side with you in an open space. Beds are lined in rows about one foot from each other. While laying in your bed you can literally reach over and smack the person next to you. Officers then line 15 chairs up in the recreation room. Then they call out 15 inmates at a time, row by row, to strip search. After giving the officer one clothing article you are wearing at a time, you have to then stand in front of the officer, butt-ass naked, lift your penis, lift your nutsack, turn and bend from the waist, crack your ass cheeks, then run your fingers through your mouth and lift your tongue. This is all being done side-by-side with 15 other inmates to the right and left of you. This has to be one of the most degrading tactics CO’s use to break your spirits.
Female officers that are going through things at home with their man, hands down, come to work with the intent to bash every male inmate in sight. We male inmates suffer at the hand of some of these female CO’s for every fuck up their man does at home. I really don’t know how some of these female officers even got this job because the majority of them look like they’re straight out the ‘hood. Most of them rock weaves that look like they sewed the fake hair in their scalp themselves, their nails are all chewed up and they have cuts on their faces. I’m now use to money, so I can identify with signs I didn’t notice while I was in the box (stuck in the ‘hood).
Most of the new female officers on the job appear to be the typical chicks from the hood that grew up fucking real ‘hood killers and will set your ass up to have you robbed and killed for your jewelry. The first thing that comes out of their mouth is, “You bum ass niggah” or, “That’s why someone is sticking their dicks in your chick’s ass while you’re locked up.” But the most famous tactic they love to do is take away the phones and TVs whenever they feel like being spiteful. I’ve seen female officers rip their own shirt open, then pull the security alarm and tell the search team an inmate ripped her shirt and attacked her, all because the inmate got tired of the female officer talking reckless to him and in return cursed her ass out. But the stunt the female officer pulled got the inmate staples in his head and two broken ribs by the officers that responded to the scene. A week later word got out that the female officer RIPPED HER OWN SHIRT AND LIED. I heard the inmate is suing the city, but a lawsuit can’t replace what he went through.
Through it all I maintained my sanity by keeping my mouth shut and minding my own business, even though it was a killer for me to keep my mouth shut with a power-driven officer that makes in one year what I make off of one DVD release. I mastered patience and how to kiss ass (staying silent) before I could kick it. Shit, the best part of the bid is I lost 30 pounds and I feel a lot faster on my feet, so fast that I can hope out of bed, flick the lights off and be back in bed before the room gets dark. That was a joke!
The whole time I was locked up, I never ate the mess hall food because a jail’s kitchen is the dirtiest place in the jail besides the showers. In the kitchen, inmates are known to pick food off the floor and put it back on the serving line at feeding time. Mice and roaches run the jail and I heard stories how inmates have thrown dead mice in food blenders that blend meats as well as other foods before they are served. I bet who ever is reading this is like, ‘Damn!’ Well, it’s the real deal, kid! One day it’s a five-star home-cooked meal and the next day you’re locked up, eating a fucking sautéed mouse. So I ate tuna and oodles and noodles with crackers from commissary day in day out for eight months. I can’t believe I can finally eat a real meal in a few days.
There’s nothing like a shower in your own crib because the showers in jail are twisted. Imagine getting in a shower that no matter how much you clean it still looks filthy, so you get in a shower to wash to feel clean and you get out the shower still feeling dirty. A huge setback for me while doing this bid has been the loss of time. When you get to a point in life where you’re running a company, working or just making money, time becomes priceless! Time is one thing in life that can never be replaced no matter how successfully one can bounce back. Now that I have accepted my loss of time, I’m focused on what lies ahead of me instead of what’s now behind me.
Well, I have to end now to finish packing the small items that I am leaving here with. Soon Bonnie will be on the other side of the bridge that separates Rikers Islands from civilization. My truck has already been filled with gas, my Louis luggage is packed in the trunk, I should be walking out the doors of Rikers Island around 2 pm and my flight leaves for Turks and Caicos at 10 pm. Yes, I’m heading straight from jail business class on a vacation! Haters, don’t hate! Start saving money now, put down a down payment with a travel agent and you too can enjoy a vacation sometime next year. Those who are happy for me and continue to support me, I’m going to need this vacation because I have a lot of work ahead of me to get where I’m planning to go.
Littles
Best of the Block…Best of the Ghetto
_________________ R.I.P. Stack Bundles
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