Fat Sack a Dank. This is a true-crime story that you most likely have never heard before.

I am going to go back in time and tell you my life’s story as far as I can remember. For you to get a look into the whole story, not just the one tragic event. It’s been a rough ride along a rocky road, which has me currently confined to a cell behind the walls and fences of an American prison. Though I am still breathing, I am serving a life without parole sentence.

Discovering that my cousins were ball’n on a level that was beyond anything I could even imagine at the time really blew my mind. The summer was almost over, and school was getting ready to start. When I got back to my mom’s I went over to my buddy’s house that lived down the road with a bowl to spark with him. He was surprised because usually, he was the one who would share with me. He asked me where I got it and I told him I couldn’t say, only that I could get more. He was very curious and kept asking, but I just remembered getting choked out and knew that if I were to run my mouth, it could cause big problems, so the best thing was to not tell anybody.

The next day he came over and asked if I had any more, so I went and grabbed the baggy I had hidden. I saw his eyes light up as if it was a fat sack a dank. We blazed, and I hooked him up with a nugget for later. He said to me, hey, so you can get more, like regularly… I nodded and said ya, I’m pretty sure. Well, shit bro, he said, with the school about to start we could make bank. I thought of all the money I had counted the other day and thought to myself, we sure could. My buddy was a couple of years older than me and knew all the older kids who were into it. He was the only one I knew who did it at this point besides my older cousins, and they were like five to ten years older. I told him to look if I get it and then you get rid of it, we can split the profits. He agreed it was a good deal and asked when he could start. I said well, here, start with this and gave him the rest of what was left.

At this point, I had a paper route that was close to my mom’s house. I would ride my bike and deliver the papers. Some days I would be able to get somebody to give me a ride like my grandpa. Until I discovered the keys to my mom’s old car that was parked behind the house in the yard. it was a Chevy sprint. I went and tried to start it up, but nothing was happening. My neighborhood homeboy E, was the mechanic type so I called him up and told him to come over. He got in, turned the key and immediately said the batteries are out you got a charger? I thought we did, I went and looked in the carport, and found it, looked old and corroded I wasn’t convinced it was going to work. Well, this is all we got, I think it’ll work. We’re about to find out said E…

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