A Question Of Friendship

As you read along to the melodic wizardry that is my style, what I want you to do is correlate. I’m gonna be jumping from beam to beam with the grace of Nadia Comaneci. Put a L of that OG flight in the air and peep game.


This is a true story about two bruvas from another. The two met a decade ago on a bullshit job, got cool and stayed down ever since. The first bruva made moves out of state and started a family, the other keeps lookout for the first bruva’s folk back home. The bond was forged when the second bruva, at request, paid a visit to the first bruva’s mom in the hospital, during what would be her final days on earth. The second bruva just viewed his deed as that of a trustworthy, loyal friend, but the first bruva viewed it as the definitive moment of their indelible brotherhood. The two correspond ever so often over the following years. They are both proud men, rarely if ever borrowing money from family or other friends. But they would borrow from the other, from time to time. The first bruva showed love on more than one occasion, blessing the second bruva in the most clutch of situations, and not even asking for a return on the short. This love was never taken for granted or even slight by the second bruva. The love was genuine. My bruva, my nigga. The financial blessing was reciprocated by the second bruva on more than one occasion as well. There was in fact a time when the second bruva took care of a financial matter for the first bruva and asked for nothing in return. Recently, the first bruva called the second bruva for a favor, and without blinking, the second bruva ensured the first that the money would be sent the next day. It was. The first bruva promised to return the short by week’s end. He didn’t. The second bruva didn’t even raise a brow. That was his nigga when push came to shove, after all. My manz, my nigga, my homie, my folk, my famz. The second week passes and the first bruva explains that inclement weather put a temporary halt on a return home from an out of town trip. “No problem” was the second bruva’s response. Ain’t nothing, he figured. “He was my nigga when push came to shove”. Another week passes. All the while, the second bruva did what most real niggas do; he spent the money he did have with the assumption that it was all good because his bruva was gonna hit him with that short within the next day or so anyway. That’s a move that I personally would usually warn against, as it isn’t prudent strategy. After all, conventional wisdom says you never count your chickens before they hatch. But this situation was different. That’s his bruva; he was his nigga when push came to shove. He finally sent a text through to the first bruva, brotherly and cordial. The first bruva apologizes and insists that the short will be sent immediately. The second bruva believes him. It never comes. The next morning the second bruva decides to call first thing and let him know that he never received any type of follow-up call or text with a confirmation number for a wire service. The first insists that it was sent and promises to re-send the confirmation number as soon as he arrived at work, as he was driving at the time of the call. The call never came. My lone question is this: HOW WOULD YOU FEEL IF YOU WERE THE SECOND NIGGA?