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" He replied sourly. He sat up painfully and leaned back against the forest of pipes. His joints ached from being spread eagled like that and his arm ...urt like a son of a bitch from being shot. He flexed his hand experimentally. He had full strength and mobility; must have been a clean shot, right through the meat. Clenching his teeth against the pain, he glanced around and took in the scene. They were in some sort of room made for servicing the pipes that they were currently chained to. "Looks. No more anger. We’re trading now. We’re trading, and I’m getting along.”“You’re one of those cross-over niggaz, just like your Pops.”Claude shot from the free-throw line and missed.“To put it bluntly, yeah. I can’t do what I love forever. That time is over. It’s about money now. It’s all about survival, and we mold to what keeps us alive. That’s the way it’s always been. When we were younger we never saw it coming, and then all of a sudden—bam!- we trade everything away for it. I wonder if I. More

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