business.” I started laughin’. “Trick, please. You always been a walkin’ billboard for sex on the go. You been poppin’ dicks in ya mouth like Tic Tacs since the sixth grade. And now you tryna be brand-new. And the funny shit is that after all the dicks ya ass done sucked and swallowed, you still on the bottom.”
She started shiftin’ her eyes and twistin’ her ass in her seat. That’s how I knew the bitch was lyin’. My moms always said, “Watch how a bitch acts when you confront her ass ’bout somethin’. If the ho ain’t lookin’ you straight in the eyes and if she starts actin’ all fidgety ’n shit, then the bitch is lyin’. And if the bitch grabs her shit to leave, then she done told you what you already know.” And that is somethin’ I’ve always lived by.
“You know what, bitch!” she said suddenly, gettin’ up. I slipped my hand down in my purse and grabbed my ice pick just in case this ho got froggish and tried to leap. Although I had my razorin my napkin, a know-it-all bitch like her needed to have some sense poked up in her a few times instead of bein’ slashed up. “I’m sick of you always thinkin’ you betta than somebody else. You ain’t shit, bitch. Just because ya moms came into a little paper and moved ya conceited ass outta the hood don’t make you no better, bitch! Just because you gotta little shine, that don’t make you no better than me. Yeah, you might be bubblin’, but you still a project bitch. But a bitch thinks she’s too good for the hood now.”
I looked at this bitch like she was half-crazy, tryna figure out what the fuck me movin’ outta the hood had to do with her nasty ass. I bust out laughin’. “Yeah, tramp, I’m a project bitch, alright. Always was, always will be. But I ain’t ever been no dirty one. Can you say that ’bout ya slutty ass?”
“Won’t you bitches chill the fuck out,” Iris jumped in. “Ya’ll ’bout to fuck up my high for real for real with all this ying-yang, okey-doke bullshit.”
“Nah, fuck that,” Tamia said, snatchin’ up her bag of weed and her Phillies and Dutches. “I’m out. This bitch done fucked up my mood.”
I laughed. “Ho, run from the truth if ya want. But ya cruddy-ass just proved the shit is real. If ya pussy’s flamin’ and ya burnin’ niggas, keep it real. That’s all I’m sayin’, ho. Be a real bitch ’bout it.” The room got real quiet. Iris was shootin’ me some serious rocks, like I really gave a fuck. I knew she didn’t really want it ’cause if she did she woulda leaped. “What the fuck you ice-grillin’ me for?”
She rolled her eyes. “Fuck you, bitch.”
“Yeah, whatever,” I said. I took another toke from my blunt, leaned back in my chair, and held that shit in my lungs.
I guess the tramp had a change of heart ’cause she tossed hershit back down on the table. “I’m goin’ to the bathroom,” she said, stompin’ off. I knew the bitch was heated that I pulled her card. Oh well.
I slowly exhaled the smoke into the air, glancin’ at Chanel. “Make sure when the bitch leaves, ya toss her glass in the trash and burn that toilet seat,” I said. She rolled her eyes. Iris sucked her teeth. I picked up my glass and sipped the rest of my drink, smirkin’.
“You know you dead wrong, Kat, word,” Iris said, regulatin’ another blunt. “That’s some real foul shit. You know we ain’t never let no niggas or dick or who’s fuckin’ who come between us. We’ve always been down for each other. Why the fuck you come at her neck like that?”
“’Cause if the bitch got herpes then we need to know. She got us smokin’ and drinkin’ behind her nasty ass. That shit ain’t fuckin’ cool. And I’ma keep shit real. Muhfuckin’ girls or not, if the bitch really does have that shit, and I catch it…I’ma shut her lights out. And I put that on e’erything I love.”
I took another deep pull from my blunt, held it in my lungs, then let the smoke twirl around
She started shiftin’ her eyes and twistin’ her ass in her seat. That’s how I knew the bitch was lyin’. My moms always said, “Watch how a bitch acts when you confront her ass ’bout somethin’. If the ho ain’t lookin’ you straight in the eyes and if she starts actin’ all fidgety ’n shit, then the bitch is lyin’. And if the bitch grabs her shit to leave, then she done told you what you already know.” And that is somethin’ I’ve always lived by.
“You know what, bitch!” she said suddenly, gettin’ up. I slipped my hand down in my purse and grabbed my ice pick just in case this ho got froggish and tried to leap. Although I had my razorin my napkin, a know-it-all bitch like her needed to have some sense poked up in her a few times instead of bein’ slashed up. “I’m sick of you always thinkin’ you betta than somebody else. You ain’t shit, bitch. Just because ya moms came into a little paper and moved ya conceited ass outta the hood don’t make you no better, bitch! Just because you gotta little shine, that don’t make you no better than me. Yeah, you might be bubblin’, but you still a project bitch. But a bitch thinks she’s too good for the hood now.”
I looked at this bitch like she was half-crazy, tryna figure out what the fuck me movin’ outta the hood had to do with her nasty ass. I bust out laughin’. “Yeah, tramp, I’m a project bitch, alright. Always was, always will be. But I ain’t ever been no dirty one. Can you say that ’bout ya slutty ass?”
“Won’t you bitches chill the fuck out,” Iris jumped in. “Ya’ll ’bout to fuck up my high for real for real with all this ying-yang, okey-doke bullshit.”
“Nah, fuck that,” Tamia said, snatchin’ up her bag of weed and her Phillies and Dutches. “I’m out. This bitch done fucked up my mood.”
I laughed. “Ho, run from the truth if ya want. But ya cruddy-ass just proved the shit is real. If ya pussy’s flamin’ and ya burnin’ niggas, keep it real. That’s all I’m sayin’, ho. Be a real bitch ’bout it.” The room got real quiet. Iris was shootin’ me some serious rocks, like I really gave a fuck. I knew she didn’t really want it ’cause if she did she woulda leaped. “What the fuck you ice-grillin’ me for?”
She rolled her eyes. “Fuck you, bitch.”
“Yeah, whatever,” I said. I took another toke from my blunt, leaned back in my chair, and held that shit in my lungs.
I guess the tramp had a change of heart ’cause she tossed hershit back down on the table. “I’m goin’ to the bathroom,” she said, stompin’ off. I knew the bitch was heated that I pulled her card. Oh well.
I slowly exhaled the smoke into the air, glancin’ at Chanel. “Make sure when the bitch leaves, ya toss her glass in the trash and burn that toilet seat,” I said. She rolled her eyes. Iris sucked her teeth. I picked up my glass and sipped the rest of my drink, smirkin’.
“You know you dead wrong, Kat, word,” Iris said, regulatin’ another blunt. “That’s some real foul shit. You know we ain’t never let no niggas or dick or who’s fuckin’ who come between us. We’ve always been down for each other. Why the fuck you come at her neck like that?”
“’Cause if the bitch got herpes then we need to know. She got us smokin’ and drinkin’ behind her nasty ass. That shit ain’t fuckin’ cool. And I’ma keep shit real. Muhfuckin’ girls or not, if the bitch really does have that shit, and I catch it…I’ma shut her lights out. And I put that on e’erything I love.”
I took another deep pull from my blunt, held it in my lungs, then let the smoke twirl around
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