I was with a couple girls and a buddy in college after a party in my early 20s. It was about 3am, we were smashed, and I drove way across town to the guy's dealer (the worst part of town) where we picked up an 8-ball, had a couple bumps and drank a few more beers. About an hour after we get there, a couple tweaks come by. They go into a back room and have a conversation with the dealer and leave. The dealer looks pissed and says something about them bringing back his money. 20 minutes later 3 gun shots fly through the house. We leave, and I'm scared as shit. I drive all the way back across town with an 8-ball on us having just left a drive by in the ghetto, drunk as piss. We get blocks from home, and a cop pulls up behind me. I keep it cool and he tails me for a few blocks. He turns on his lights and as I start to pull over and kiss my life all but over, he flys passed us on to something else. We get home and I've never done it since. That world isn't worth it.