Today im going to share the story of a prominent and wealthy man. He had it all but somthing was wrong... april 17th 1981, newborn Kelrise De'laaly is brough into the world with a loving mother and a supportive father. Ahh what a life to live, living a lavish daily life without the slightest finnancial or domestic issue to stain his pristene state of mind of carelessness and serenity... Not in this case... Young Kelrise (affectionatly called kelly by mother and friends) is a negro youth living on the hardened and crime ridden streets of Cuyohoga Falls ohio. His father, mentioned above, was arrested for drug trafficing and possesion of illegal and unregdistered firearms when kelly was only 2. The only image of a father kelly has is that of condensed stories his mother shared to him as a youngster. she described him to be very agressive and abusive to kelly's mother and had a very short fuse. but anyway, back to the story Kelly is 12 year old and hanging out with his normal crowd of friends, 3 other boys that live in his neighborhood. One day they all decided to meet behind the supermakret and roll up a daily doobie with his friends. "You be hittin that b like a bitch my *****! hold dat shit in." kelly's friend derrik said. "I got ashma dawg gimmy a break!" he snapped back. after taking turns hittin the blunt kelly and his friends head back to his other friend, Bobby's house. When they arrived in the house, everyone took their shoes off and proceeded up to Bobbies room. Bobby's neighborhood house was bigger and nicer then his piers and kelly somwhat envied it. After all of kelly's friends had finished a good session on Bobby's brand new game cube, the youngsters proceeded to sprawn out on the floor and munch on chips and ice cream. Everyone loved bobbies rich-boy house and he enjoyed having them over, they all were best buds for ever...but the events today would change everything....
AYO *****s check this out." Bobby signaled them to his closet where he opened up his stash spot inside of a hollowed out bibble. "I got 230grams or that yay from ma boy this week, cut me a deal i got it for 5 bones." Bobby said. "***** you trippin! you can get 5 years in the detention hall for that shit! and that place aint friendly to a black boys backside." one of kellys friends said. "i pull in a g a month flippin dis yay dawg, you like livin the lavish lifestyle i can hook u up with the work." Bobby explained. Instantly his friends were hooked but kelly was still sceptical. he knew what the blow can do...and did to many of his close friends and relatives. "i dunno man, shit looks sketch. you sure this junk is safe?" kelly asked. "*****, all you gata do is stand by the store and when a junkie walk by, you high five him an 8ball and you make that chedda like peprige farm, haha! lemmy hook you up with an ounce and you pay me a g by the end of the week and the rest is yours. You up to it?" Bobby asked. "Yea i guess ill try it, but just once cus i want those new silver jordans." Kelly replied "haha, whatever you say dawg." bobby replied as he handed kelly the "work". After that day, kelly began the education of a lesson he will not soon forget, the lesson that money will tear you apart from the inside out, more than any addictive drug.
April 17th, 1999. Kelly rollin down the street in his old school car with the brand new rims spinning and reflecting light off his recently waxed car and paint job. He pulls up near the sidewalk infront of his house and steps out of the car, brand new spottless jordans, new pager, fitted cap and a strap to match. as he approaches the porch and extended a hand to open the screen door into his house. Bzzzt! his pager vibrates in his pocket, he grabbed it and saw his homeboy's number appear, he opened the door and flipped on the lights... Supprise!!! everyone yells and pops out of hiding. kelly pulled out his desert eagle in a sudden jolt of andrenaline. as he notices its harmless he slowly restores his strap. "Happy birthday son!" his mom exclaims as she wraps her arms around her son. " I can't belive this boy is 18 already, seems like just yesterday he was up to my kneecap begging me for a quarter to get a gumball, haha." one of kelly's mom's friends said. "i wish i could stay but i have to go handle some bussness. ill be back as soon as i can though." kelly replied "kelly! you are always running around the town and u never have time for anything! relax and enjoy your 18th birthday." kellys mom said. kelly ran outside and jumped into his converable and sped off. His homie boby was pagin him for some bussness deals. kelly pulls up to bobbies house and locks his car doors. "Nice car boy, you must have a nice job, haha." Bobby tells kelly jokingly. "you know it boi. you got ma order for the week?" kelly asked. "you got the money?" he replied "yea, show me that work first, you know how it goes dawg." kelly said "haha, you been flippin this rock for the past 6 years ma dude, you care to upgrade?" bobby asked "what you mean man, flippin is the best money i get." kelly said "haha come with me." bobby said as he lead him into the house
As Bobby slowly added the whitish powder and pure white baking soda into the boiling pan, kelly became tanalized with the so intracate, complex yet simple process that would take the boys and transform them to men, from the level of tricked out chevys and rims, to leather interior bugatti's with on board navigation. It was his gateway drug, it introduced him to a new drug, even more addicting than the money...it wasnt even crack it was power. kelly returned to his house, with a kilogram of cocaine and the mindset of a crack fiend. He looks at his silver plated rolex watch. it was already 9pm and kelly had missed most of his own birthday party. He raced home as fast as possible. He came home and busted down the door. he saw many friends and relitives dancing with bottles of henesy in some hands and half smoked blunts in the other. "sip this my *****aa!" kellys childhood friend mike said. "sip it, its lean. itll relaxxxx ya! ahahaa." he screeeched as he stumbled away. as kelly finished talking to his drunken friend, he relized he had 14 g's worth of coke in his car trunk. he didnt want to stress about it considering it was his birthday so he just locked up the doors and relaxxed the night away. the next morning kelly awakes in his king sized matress with a jack daniel's bottle in his hand and a girl druling on his stomach. he gently moved the hoe, being carful not to awake her, got off the bed, and slowly recovered his displaced clothing. It was a greaat night
Returning home one night in late october, he knew he had the house to himself that night because his mom was working. so he closed the curtains, locked the doors, turnted he stereo up and turned into the black chef boyardee. he had 3 pots cookin at once. 3 ounces of blow mixed up with the baking soda let it cook and add the ice cubes. hard to belive this daily ritual paid for every bill in the house and his michael jordan's shoe habit. Kellys mother didnt need to work for months, kelly was grindin, he had people cooking for him, his profits multiplied exponentaly and he didnt even touch the work. he figured at that point he was invincable. he didnt touch a thing and was flippin atleast 8 chikens a week. it was a trapstars dream. Around the turn of the century, kelly had moved his dearly beloved mother out of the slum they had lived in since his birth. pampered her with jewlery and finest luxury furnisher for her new house. the money was cleaned so no worring about the feds. he even left his stap at home once in awhile. he felt it was no longer nessesary to hold it werever he was. the lavish trapstar lifestyle is very short lived.
one day while kelly was cruisin with some hoes in the dunk, he gets a page from a longtime customer of his. he pulled over to the payphone to call up one of his lower workers to place the order, as usual after a wonderful saturday night of cruisin with bitches and smoking blunts, kelly got another page from his customer so this time he called him himself. "You page?" kelly asked. "yea man i need to cop a chicken and i want it directly from you man, i dont want to risk geting caught by a sketch dealer, you know?" his friend replied. "yea man, meet at the junk yard, 2 a.m." kelly replied "ok man peace" he replied kelly knew it wasnt smart to get envolved with his deals like this, but he did it many times as a teenager, should be the same transaction. He headed to his traphouse and in the basement where nearly 30 bricks. kelly grabbed one and threw it in his dufflebag. on his way out the door he grabbed his strap and threw it all in the trunk kelly waited patiently at the junkyard. it was 2am where was he? after an hour past, he decided it was time to go and maybe their was a location error. he headed back to his house in the suburbs, his drivway tapped off with police tap, officers all around the crime scene area and a paramedic pulling a strecher kelly rap through the tape and was stopped by an officer. he resisted but eventually the officer told him "their was a murder here. your mother was shot repetidly and may be dead. im sorry." the pig said indifferently kelly exploded with frustration as the paramedic said shes dead. he wanted revenge. he knew who did it and had a plan cooking in his head he wanted revenge