Every Junkie starts with the same two things: a sack and a habit.
You cook $JROK in the trap. You smoke what you cook. Move right and you stack deep enough to smoke all day and still have weight to flip — that's the life out here. Move wrong and you smoke the whole sack, wake up with empty hands, and the habit don't care. The Hood knows both kinds. It only respects one.
Three cliques run three blocks:
Rich Fienz move as one body. The tighter they sync, the harder they all eat.
Null Gang answers to nobody, not even each other. A crew of solo runs.
Pack Runners play it shiesty. No rules, no loyalty, no love. Just the bag.
They've been at war over the same sack since the first cook. Corners change hands. Reputations don't come back.
2,222 Junkies. Robinhood Chain. One crown. You don't collect a Hood Junkie; you run with one.
In the trap, we trust
