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Username: H_i_c_k_s_o_n
Post Number: 15
Registered: 05-2006
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Votes: 0 (Vote!) | | Posted on Wednesday, October 04, 2006 - 01:26 pm: | 
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SHA:FIRSTLADYOFGHETTOHEAT®SHA:FIRSTLADYOFGHETTOHEAT®SHA:FIRSTLADYOFGHETTOHEAT®SH A:FIRSTLADYOFGHETTOHEAT®SHA:FIRSTLADYOFGHETTOHEAT®SHA:FIRSTLADYOFGHETTOHEAT®SHA: FIRSTLADYOFGHETTOHEAT®SHA:FIRSTLADYOFGHETTOHEAT®SHA:FIRSTLADYOFGHETTOHEAT®SHA:FI RSTLADYOFGHETTOHEAT®SHA:FIRSTLADYOFGHETTOHEAT®SHA:FIRSTLADYOFGHETTOHEAT®SHA:FIRS TLADYOFGHETTOHEAT®SHA:FIRSTLADYOFGHETTOHEAT®SHA:FIRSTLADYOFGHETTOHEAT®SHA:FIRSTL ADYOFGHETTOHEAT®SHA:FIRSTLADYOFGHETTOHEAT®SHA:FIRSTLADYOFS-S-S-S-S-S-S-S-S-S-S-S -S-S-S-S-S-S-S-S-S-S-S-S-S-S-S-S-S-S-S-S-S-S-S-S-S-S-S-S-S-S-S-S-S-S-S-S-S-S-S-S -S-S-S-S-S-S-S-S-S-S-S!!!
An excerpt from HARDER by S H A
A GHETTOHEAT® PRODUCTION
spring of ‘97
Things couldn’t have gotten any better. I’d just turned 18, and everybody with a dick was hooked on my ass. Even those dyke-broads tried to holla, but whatever!
Wherever I went, my name rang bells. A hood-legend, as they call it, I was the most wanted female out here without a care in the world.
I was the shit!
* * * * *
“I’m just so damn fly with my long, light-brown hair that falls right above my butt, to my sexy-ass shape! Not to forget, my pretty-colored shifting eyes and caramel complexion.
HUMPH!
There ain’t a chick in New York, let alone Queens, that’s hotter than me! The only one to even come close is my ace-boom, Shelly; Shelly Wakes.
“We’re the same sign, got the same body type, and everything. Only differences are she’s quiet, humble and like dark-skinned cats. I’m all about the limelight, confident and only stay with the light-skinned, Al B. Sure-looking brothers! But Shelly’s pretty much down for whatever.”
Whatever!
“Kai! Kai…um, are you done with ya little monologue? I can almost see the words written on your forehead while you’re over there making goo-goo eyes at yaself in the mirror. You’re so damn narcissistic and vain.”
“Oh please, Shelly, quit bugging! I ain’t making ‘goo-goo’ eyes at myself.”
Damn!
I always had to wonder about Shelly always trying to break up my vibe. “Come on, Shells. Hillcrest is about to get out and I’m trying to check for dude that was at that party.”
“What dude? Jordan Richardson? Gurrrlll! Quit bugging! For starters, you know damn well every chick across the county wants a piece of him. Second, you’re only digging him because he’s sitting on old money. What you really need to do is figure out if you’re going to Baruch College in the fall or not and stop chasing dollars. School is what you really need to be worried about.”
I contemplated punching Shelly in her eye for trying to play me. Jordan Richardson was official!
“Aye, dog, for real-for real, there’s more to it than that, yo. Dude is crazy-fly, just like me. Let’s be honest, everybody knows that I’m the only chick around these parts that makes his perfect match.
“He and I are cut from the same cloth. You watch and see me become Mrs. Richardson one day!” After all, I was the flyest thing walking! “Besides, I’m through with school. What is there left to learn except how to make money. I don’t need school for that.”
Shelly never understood the thing I had for Jordan. She said, “So what are you going to say to Jordan if you see him today?” Shelly always countered with some good questions. “We might as well talk about him since attending college is a dead issue for you.”
What was college really good for? They charged you outrageous amounts of money for textbooks and tuition, and for what?
Nothing!
As for Jordan, I didn’t know what to say to “Mr. So Damn Fly.” I never did, but Shelly wouldn’t know that.
“Ma, I won’t have to say a damn thing! He’ll take one look at me and know exactly what’s up! YA HEARD?”
Jordan Richardson was like a rainbow that broke in the middle of a summertime thunderstorm, bringing sunshine and singing birds. Yeah, yeah, I know that sounds like somebody’s poetry, but if you saw him, he would make you feel the same exact way.
He stood about 6’2”, 210 pounds, solid muscle with a dulce de leche complexion. He drove a ‘95 Acura Legend that was black-on-black and had shiny chrome wheels.
Most other seniors in high school were driving ‘hoopties’ if they were even driving at all. I swore everytime he passed by me, I heard Sade’s Sweetest Taboo playing in the background while his Nautica cologne intoxicated me. He was too good of a catch for me to pass up.
“You know what, Shells, forget him.” For years I tried to. I tried not to give him the satisfaction of having me go out of my mind like the other females.
Whatever!
That day, I was eager to explore my options. The options on a warm Friday afternoon would either be on Jamaica Avenue or at Green Acres Mall.
“Yo, Shelly, let’s just go up to Jamaica Avenue. I need to pick up some ‘54-11s’, and if I see him, I see him. But if I don’t, his loss and some next dude’s gain.”
Shelly replied, “Baby girl, you are wild! You know damn well that you’re too scared to say anything to him. Besides I ain’t got no dough for The Ave.”
Come on, who did Shelly think she was talking to? Money was never a cause for worry, especially back then. I had been working at McDonald’s for about three months and got monetary gifts from my little admirers on a regular basis. You couldn’t put ‘Kai’, ‘money’, and ‘problem’ in the same sentence.
That was unheard of!
“Shelly, you need some ‘54-11s’, too, because them Jordan’s you have on are looking tired as hell. Think of it as a belated birthday present. I got enough to cover several pairs of sneakers; so what’s really good?” Her broke-ass had to go at that point. Who passed up free kicks? Not big foot Shelly.
When we got to Jamaica Avenue, it was nothing but a whole bunch of high school kids out there. It was the first warm day of the year so everybody was out. Damn. Maybe I should’ve waited for another day when all those wack-ass females wouldn’t have been in attendance.
We’d just gotten off the Q5 bus and I could already feel the hate raining down hard on me and Shelly. Well, mostly me. I was used to it. Fuck it—we were already there. I figured that we might as well deal with it.
Not five minutes went by before drama introduced itself.
“Bitch thinks she’s just so fly…but let me see her try to act cute with a bubble.” It was this girl from Springfield named, Rhazza. She had a bad temper and looked like a man. Rhazza hated my ass ever since I moved to Rosedale. For what reason? I don’t know.
She was a sad story.
To think Rhazza was about five years older than me (still in high school), but would still try to punk me on a regular basis. I made that day the final day she would ever try to disrespect me, or anybody else for that matter.
“Fuck is you talking to, you Magilla Guerilla-looking-type-bitch? You better go ‘head with that bullshit!” I came back at her with fury in my voice and confidence in my swagger.
Rhazza got in my face.
“Oh word? You’s a hard rock now? You forget who the fuck I am? I’ma take that switch out ya walk fa good, ya lil’ bitch!”
As she said that, I quickly ducked her approaching right jab. “Rhazza, go home to ya baby, I’m really not tryna’ fuck wit’ you today.” I was never one to pass up on a good fight. However, I wasn’t about to let Jordan see me acting less than lady-like.
Rhazza persisted.
“Fuck you, Kai. I’m about tired of ya bullshit!” The next thing I knew, she pulled out a metal baseball bat and started swinging it at me. A crowd started to form around us. They were clearly in favor of her beating me down mercilessly.
Being outnumbered, I pulled out my mace: “Yo, dumb-dumb…take this!”
I sprayed it dead in her eyes and she started screaming, “Bitch, I’ma kill you! I’m blind, I’m blind.” Mace should just be called ‘bitch spray’. It turned the hardest individuals into suckers on impact.
Rhazza lost her balance and stumbled onto Archer Avenue with both of her hands covering her eyes. Too bad for her, a N4 bus was quickly approaching. It hit her dead on. She never saw it coming; she never had a chance.
Problem solved.
“DOIN’ IT AND DOIN’ IT AND DOIN’ IT WELL.
DOIN’ IT AND DOIN’ IT AND DOIN’ IT WELL.
DOIN’ IT AND DOIN’ IT AND DOIN’ IT WELL.
I REPRESENT QUEENS, SHE WAS RAISED OUT IN BROOKLYN.”
—LL COOL J, DOIN’ IT
SHA is the First Lady of GHETTOHEAT®, an 80s baby born in Brooklyn who grew up in Queens. In 2006, SHA attained her Bachelors of Science degree in Psychology and is currently working towards her Masters. Writing has always been SHA’s way of dealing with life, penning poetry since the age of nine.
SHA recently tried her hand at fiction, growing tired of the monotonous titles that filled the African-American section of the bookstore where she worked at. Proudly representing for young women within the inner-city, being a creative force who speaks directly to her generation, SHA is currently working on the sequel to her suspenseful novel, HARDER.
To mail comments or questions to SHA, send all correspondence to:
GHETTOHEAT®
P.O. BOX 2746
NEW YORK, NY 10027
ATTENTION: SHA
or e-mail her at: SHA@GHETTOHEAT.COM
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