Make'in Paper

“Peace Vieho…”
“My man shorty, what up young blood…what brings you over to these parts so early in the morn’in? Ain't you supposta be in school?”
“Fuck that shit, I'm try’in to make some paper. Momma short on rent again.”
“I hear you, so what you work’in wid?”
“Old dude around the way got O’s for four…”
“Four an O huu?”
“That’s what he said. I was think’in that maybe you could float me again.”
“You know how I roll, right?”
“Yes sir, Vieho.”
“Let me get my man... Yo Flacko!!! Flacko!!!”
“What up Mr. V.”
“Go get young blood here ten and two.”
“Ok, be right back!”
“Sit tight young blood and we’ll get you fixed right up.”
“Cool…”
“Here you go Mr. V.”
“Good look’in Flaco.”
“Holla if you need anything else Mr. V. Peace.”
“Peace Flac...Ok young blood, here go twelve hundred, get three O’s. Put the word out to your people that you got fresh and post-up at your spot down in the garden.”
“What about Sue?”
“Let me handle that bitch! Now, break down into quarters and let them go for onetwentyfive.”
“Shit…that’s…fifteen hundred, right?”
“Right young blood!”
“Bet, I’ll holla at you tomorrow with your end.”
“Peace…”
“Peace Vieho!!!”