Page 1 of Krist and Moanie
Chapter 1
Krist McNeal
The air was thick in here, but the smoke was thicker. A barely lit warehouse filled past capacity with everybody from the hood to Diamonds. Speakers adorned the makeshift stage while two fools battled it out with subpar lyrics and heavy accents.
“It’s amateur hour, Krist,” Ben said loud enough for me to hear.
I chuckled. “Probably. It don’t sound too bad.” Through my response I sported a smile heavy on the sarcasm.
“You ready to get up there? Winner takes the whole pot tonight. But first of course you gotta go up against the champ.” The MC nodded in my direction and I raised my cup at him.
I laughed when I caught the cocky lil nigga wave me off. Yeah, I was about to enjoy this. For the next fifteen minutes the two went back and forth on the stage and I watched, dissecting each line, already knowing how I’d hit either of them. It was never much for me because ever since I was a kid the words just flowed, and somehow, when I threw them together, they worked. Words and sounds bent to my will because I took the time to understand them.
About another fifteen minutes later the two rounds were up and the loud mumbling one of the two had won. By then I was ready to finish his ass for the night in my mind. I had to get up early tomorrow.
“Take it easy on him, bro.” Ben fixed his glasses and threw his head, knowing damn well that wasn’t about to happen.
“Nah.” I shook my head cockily as the sea of people parted for me to get onstage. When I stepped up there I felt the animosity coming off ol’ boy and I couldn’t help but chuckle. The fact that a nigga didn’t know me but knew of me and still got up here was funny to me.
“Are we flipping for who goes first?” Seer, the MC, asked
“Nah. Let homeboy go first.” I nodded in his direction, then brought the cup of brown liquor to my lips before setting it down on the small table near me.
“Bet.” Ol’ boy started just as the beat dropped. I didn’t catch many of his words because all that shit sounded like mumbling, like he was on his 50 with the jaw wired shut shit. About a minute and fifteen seconds later he was finished and handing the mic back to Seer.
Seer nodded, eyes trained on me because he knew how this went all too well. I wasn’t arrogant or anything like that, but I knew my motion. About a second later I had the mic and sported a sinister smirk. “Lemme send son home acapella.” The beat went off and I stepped right into ol’ boy’s face before I put the mic to my lips.
“All y’all niggas wanna be Roc-a-fella that’s cool too, I’ll be Dame with it
Cut the check or you covering the deck with it
Y’all visiting from the heights, you probably should have stayed in it
I break down you fake tough ass rappers
Exposing your borrowed flows
While you barking all loud, I’m moving in silence
Sweet talking ass niggas, yeah I’m a bar flipper
You punching soft, young boy, while I’m a real hitter…”
I maintained eye contact with him and paused, then moved toward the front of the stage. The looks of people who never missed a battle and knew my face all too well egged me on, had me going in for the kill.
“Real deal landmine every step, I promise I’ma deliver
You just filler, I’m really a thriller, rap’s actual killer
You shooting too high, wrong height, shoe wrong tier too
Youngin’ I’m crowned with fire, ending careers with just a verse
Watching you stand in when I’m really the man they admire
Yeah you still barking all loud, but I promise you my silence is bound to incite a riot.”
The crowd erupted with each word, and I paused again, letting him think I was done before I finished him off the best way I knew how.
