Back when I was a lowercase G, me and the roll dog used to post up at his cousin’s spot. It was a low down after hours joint that where we would kick it and help move a bit of product.
This was back in the street time days when we were running around town way past dark and hitting the boards by sunup. We used to bump some sick nasty and jam mixes of the oldies paying out the 12s mounted on the wall. We weren’t doing much of everything, but we thought we owned the world.
There was a cat that used to post up at the spot. Always dressed down in some slacks. Fly kicks all the time. Crocodile leather accessories. Not decked out, just smooth.
We’d throw some his way and guy would kick back by smoking us out. Always had a different chick with him. The girls would hit, lay back and blow rings. Dude never spoke that much but they would jump. Never lifted a finger but would have the bar rolled and drinks in hand.
It was command, but easy command.
The girls were out. Not throwing it, but you always knew you could get it if you wanted. Cat offered a few here and there. Not straight out, but it was there.
We ran work out the spot for Summer before moving on to some better logistics. Every once and a while we would fall through and see old dude with his feet up smoking loud and having his girls fetch beer.
At that point I had learned to pick brains and got to talking about running traffic and the Game.
His perspective. You just tell people what you want, they’ll do it. Gotta be clear. Most people aren’t clear. But if you say it, it’ll happen.
So get after it.