I often wonder how a thug’s life evolved, how I can walk the streets openly in my hoodie with no risk, despite the hoodie being the uniform of a thug. With the hood down, I’m a law abiding citizen. Hood up, I’ve clocked in, ready to ply my trade.
Hood down, I spot my mark. Hood up, I closely follow and make contact. He tries to dance away but I pin him to the wall with a knife at his neck, grabbing his wallet and phone.
Crap! He’s a cop and my hood’s up. Busted on the job. Not good.
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