CAR TROUBLE

BY CAMERON DAVIS
Anger is just one letter away from danger. Motherfuckers better appreciate their peace. Real talk. Appreciate the down time. And the me time. Salvage life's precious moments. Because no one never knows when its their time to go. Real talk. No one plays God. Not even Ms. Cleo or your personal doctor. That future reading bitch who swears you will hit the lotto within a few years. Then a few years pass and you are broker than ever. Looking crazier than ever. Sad story. Tell a bitch lies. Keep the truth confidential. My bitch think she knows me but she ain't got a clue. Guessing games. Its what players do. Welcome to the players club motherfucker. And I am a player. Pimping runs in my blood line. Grandad inherited it from his dad and my dad got it from grandad. Call it hereditary pimping. I got bitches on deck bra. Tonya is my other chicken. Bad bitch. I keep that pussy wet and so she keep coming for he. I got her wrapped around my fingernails. I swear the dick keeps these ho's in line. Real talk. They stay thirsty for that cock. Daddy! is what Keisha yells out when I'm in. I'm cocking Keisha every Friday. She got that pink vagina that feels like heaven to a god. Keisha has a six figure job, but she has Friday's off. Every Friday she comes to your boy crib to get broken off. She loves my kit-kat bar. And I love to share it with her. Its messed up because she has a boyfriend. I think his name is unimportant. My puerto rican mommy screams out Papi! in between orgasms. I think she is some

sort of body dancer. I mean she owns a king cobra inside her aquarium. Plus, she has dots that she places on her body. Out of all my ho's, she has the bomb head, that hot fleshy tongue that feels so right. She swallows my venom. And never spits. Yuck. Girl you nasty. Let me tell you the facts of life being a real pimp. Fact number one. Pimping is easy when your money is long. Fact number two. Bitches adore attention and when you don't give in they starve. Until they can't leave you alone. Gave up all her standards. And then you knock her down. Fact number three. Once you smash, she is forever your bitch. Mission accomplished. Pimp her, put her to work, whatever. She's yours. Make up, lip gloss, and female paraphernalia is a detour. Acting like they in love but I know them bitches be scheming. I'm walking off in the room all I hear is: We love you! If thats really how you feel let me see you drop it low. Lean in and rock it left. Tell me where you want to go because you finer than Lauren London and badder than a Amber Rose. We are not the same. I am a martian. So. So what the fuck are you? Yall little internet nerds don't have any sex. Watching porno motherfucker can't quit it. You can't keep up so why try little homie. Haters these days. Man the club life is battleground for us players. Anything goes. Bitches get stolen. Bitches get traded. Some just get dropped. Anything goes. The law can't fuck with you in this scenario. While on the highway surround yourself with 3 or 4 of the same types of cars. Back to back Chevy Camaro's speeding through looks like deja-vu. State troopers assume you are the law or very famous. So you see I have thought it through. Real stuff. Real motherfuckers. And um. Fagot City pimp, fagot fagot city pimp. Tight jeans, pink shirt no homo. Big dick you don't what I'm fucking with?