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I shake my head, still smilin’. “You’re too damn fine to be so damn evil, baby. All a cat’s tryna do is get ya name, but you actin’ like I’m the muhfucka who broke ya heart.”
She shifts her weight from one foot to the other, lets her Dior bag hang in the crook of her arm. “I’ma tell you this only once, so get it right or get got. First, I’m not ya baby. So, don’t call me that shit. Second, I don’t give a nigga the chance to break my heart, trust. And, third, whatever it is you sellin’, a bitch like me ain’t fuckin’ buyin’, so step.” She brushes past me, but I ain’t havin’ it. This bitch is too damn bad for a muhfucka to let get away that easy.
I walk up alongside of her. “Yo, check this out. I’ma follow you all ’round this muhfucka ’til you talk to me. And if I gotta stand outside ya door at the hotel, I’ma do that, too. But you not gonna just dismiss me like I’m some bum-ass nigga.”
She stops, raises her eyebrow, then grins. “Nigga, you wanna talk, then let’s.”
I flash her a wide smile. “See, baby, that’s all I’m askin’.”
“Nigga, you already fucked up. I told you, once, I’m not ya baby, so don’t call me that. And you do the shit, anyway. Obviously, you don’t listen.”
“I can’t help myself, boo,” I tease.
“I ain’t ya fuckin’ boo, either.”
“Well, maybe I wanna make you both.”
She shakes her head. “Nigga, you can’t make me nuthin’. I know ya kind. And it ain’t what I’m lookin’ for.”
“Oh, yeah…and what’s that?”
“A nigga I would haveta put a bullet in.”
I laugh. “Yo, ma, you funny as hell wit’ that.”
She ice-grills me. “Nigga, I ain’t laughin’.” I keep my smile plastered on my face, but on some real shit, a muhfucka almost believes her. The tone in her voice, the look in her eyes, tells me this sexy-ass bitch is a loose muthafuckin’ cannon. But a nigga like me likes livin’ on the edge. I feel my dick gettin’ hard.
“I’ll take my chances,” I say, grinnin’.
“Then ya ass is dumber than I thought.”
I laugh. “Nah, I’m just a sucker for a beautiful woman.”
She smirks, licks her lips, steps up in my space, lowers her voice and tells me to lean down, so she can whisper sumthin’ in my ear. “And I bet you a sucker for good pussy, and a bitch who can suck down ya dick and lap at ya balls, too…” I grin, noddin’. I let her keep talkin’. “…Well, guess what, muhfucka? I’m that bitch, be clear. Fine, fly, fabulous and freaky wit’ a pussy ’n throat game, so ill it’ll make a nigga sick. But, guess what, muhfucka?”
I can’t front, this bitch talkin’ all slick ’n greasy, got my shit on brick. “Wassup?”
She steps back, stares me up and down, locks her eyes on mine, then back down to the bulge in my pants. She steps back up in my space. “You all dick and no dollars.”
“Oh, word? You think?”
“I know. And like I said, I ain’t the one. So do ya’self a favor and beat it.”
“So what, you a gold digger?”
“No, boo-boo, don’t get it twisted. I got my own paper. I don’t need a nigga for shit. But I know what wets my clit. And a broke nigga ain’t it.”
“Good, then we on the same page ’cause I don’t need a nigga for shit either. And I don’t have a clit.”
She smiles, shakin’ her head.
“Damn, underneath all that meanness, you gotta pretty smile.”
“Flattery will get you nowhere wit’ me.”
“Will it at least get me ya number?”
“For what? It’s not like you gettin’ some pussy.”
