De’Kari [De’Kari] - Voorheeze & Clarkola

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MY APOLOGIES

I had planned for book two to be released in February 2019 however due to the feedback I received from various readers I decided to take some extra time and make some changes. I used to think entertainers were full of shit when they would say This is for my fans.

I love and need every comment, review and opinion. Believe me I internalize all of them.

Jane L. Pennella, Lesia Stevens, S. Jones, Leah Lewis, RealTalk Helene, Kim Durham, just to name some.

Helene , TRida didnt die at the shoot-out. He actually died in Oakland, CA. He and his woman Diamond are serving a life sentence behind it. I didnt mention her because their story is another book in its self. I dont know why my information says Im from Newark, CA thanks for pointing that out. I am actually from East Palo Alto by the way of Menlo Park, 1300 Block.

Patricia Carr , people will follow you in the street-life out of fear or respect. Once that is gone, its over! If Voorheeze wouldve put TRidas business out there, the team would have fell apart. No one respects a dope fiend. As it is, they followed a legend who gave them a vision. Remember this sweetheart, jail & prison is the last place for a black man. I would kill my brother before ever subjecting him to that. When you read book five of the series Blood of My Father you will understand.

Rise , you changed my book as well with your comments. Thank you!

Leah Lewis , I hope the sex scenes are hotter and give you something to think about lol.

Natalie J. , I want my .5 lol! You also changed the book or should I say yall improved the book with your comments. I couldnt change the story because its real. Im glad you like the names because they are real. Neva Die is real but we are just not a drug empire. King Tut aka Tut-Tut got his name from the sound that an AK makes Tut! Tut! Tut! I named Club Carsjanae (Car-sha-nay) after a member of Team DeKari because I think the name is jazzy.

DEDICATION

To my Thickems (my Butterfly, my Queen), All that I do is because you are all of me. For nearly two decades you have held me down not because of force, not out of debt nor political pressure, but because of who you are. Our bond isnt proof of our love but a visualization of the kind of woman you are. Winnie Mandela aint got shit on you.

THANK YOUS

Since I told the truth through fiction, I was advised by Mama B., My lil Booger and My Queen to stop connecting real names, Thank you! To Team DeKari, my ability to bring my creation into literary existence is only thanks to your countless hours of typing and eye-strain to sort out hundreds of handwritten pages. I am U and U R me & we R Team DeKari. 2 down 73 to go!

AUTHOR'S NOTES

The name Gorillaz In the Bay:

The most respected and feared beast in the jungle is the "Silver-Back Gorilla". In the concrete jungle of the Bay Area many animals terrorize the streets. But only one team has Neva gone on full-beast mode, dragging their knuckles across the ground like the mighty Silver-Back. From Hyenas to Wolves, the Bay Area has breaded many predators. But it was Neva Die Dragon Gang that set out to show the Underworld that there are truly Gorillaz In the Bay!

The name Neva Die: (is a way of life)

Neva Die is an acronym that stands for New Enlightened Visionaries of African Descent, Determined to Increase Education & Economics.

The name stems from a belief that we hold fast to regarding our struggles in life and the things that we fight for. The love we have for ourselves and our people will Neva Die. The fight will Neva Die which means we will Neva Die.

One Aim. One Struggle. One Goal.

NEVA DIE

WELCOME TO EAST PALO ALTO

PROLOGUE

2012

The sounds of Dem Hoodstarz newest release How I Really Feel, blasted through the ultra-sonic Bose audio system.

/If you dont know you probably neva will / Im just saying though I could show you how a youngsta feel /

/Im drinking death and Im smoking kill / Im just saying though I can show you how I really feel /

Voorheeze sat low with the drivers seat leaned back. A bottle of Remy Martin XO in one hand, a 45 Dragoon Colt resting on his lap and tears running down his face. How the fuck did shit get this crazy, he wondered. Everything was all good at first, Niggaz were on top of the world. The next thing a nigga knew, the bodies started dropping.

This wasnt how it was supposed to be. He didnt have any misconception about this shit like most of these fake niggaz. They had life and bullshit fucked up. With their backward ass thoughts that the game was all glamour, money, cars and bitches. He knew that this shit was full of ups and downs, wins and losses! Because of that he always expected a loss or two, hell he even accepted them.

It was as if the Game God or the forces that Be had to spank you every now and then if niggaz couldnt. Thats how shit stayed balanced. Its almost like for every few wins you had to take a loss. If niggaz couldnt dish out your losses, then the Game God would. Its that simple, pluses and minuses! That was lifes way of keeping the scales balanced. But that wasnt what the fuck had happened. It actually played out completely different. Thats what was fucking with his head.

He tilted the bottle and took another long guzzle. The hot brown liquid no longer burned his throat. He was working on his second bottle already. But no matter how much he drank, it did not ease his pain like he was hoping. He had lost too many of the people he loved! As he sat in his 1970 Chevy SS in front of the church at another funeral, nostalgia of Deja-vu hit him.

Just a few years ago he sat right in the same exact spot getting ready to attend the funeral for TRida. Today he was here to bury another brother. As the rain drops splashed and bounced off his windshield, Scoots verse began

/half empty Remy Martin bottle, smoking kill / rain drops on my windshield, I clutch steel / Let me tell you how I really feel. / when the stage lights go off, and the red carpet disappear

It felt like it was Voorheezes soul that was spitting the hurtful and heart-felt lyrics. Involuntarily he gripped the handle of the Dragoon. The pain was too real. As he sat and reminisced, rage burned in his heart and his blood began to boil. He was ready to kill whatever, whoever, whenever and however!

/Tonight, I aint fucking wit no champagne / I got Patron problems. Remy Martin issues nigga dis real pain!/

He took another swig. He just didnt give a fuck anymore! Voorheeze was truly the epitome of death right at that moment. He took another gulp of his misery tamer. He thought to himself how true the words were Nigga dis real pain. Too many members of his family had died. Members of a family that was supposed to be untouchable.