“No, what happened to her? Don’t tell me she’s pregnant, again.” It was more of a statement than a question.

She laughs. “No, her hot ass ain’t pregnant, again. But she’s laid up in the hospital.”

“What happened?”

“She was fucking some young, hood nigga from around her neighborhood, and his girl done went to her house to confront her, then ended up slicin’ the side of her face wit’ a razor.”

“What, are you fucking serious?” I ask, shocked. Not at the fact that Big Booty got her face slashed—although that’s fucked up, but the idea that bitches are still pulling out razors and slicin’ faces is too extra for me.

“Chile, that ain’t the half of it. Her three oldest kids jumped on the chick and beat her ass into the ground. They kicked and stomped her all up in her face and whatnot and now her head’s the size of a pumpkin.”

I give her an incredulous look. “OhmyGod, are you serious?”

“Baaaaby, serious as a damn heart attack; they dragged her ass something terrible.

“Big Booty had to get ninety-seven stitches to her face, her kids got arrested, and the girl’s in the hospital with a concussion, broken nose, and fractured eye sockets.”

“Wow,” I say, shaking my head. “I hope that dick was worth it. Is she still messing with those credit cards?”

“Yeah; and she done got buck wild wit’ ’em, too. I think she’s addicted to the shit.”

I shake my head. Her ghetto ass’s been fucking with stolen credit cards for almost four years, thanks to some scam artist-slash-hood-nigga she used to fuck with. He showed her how to make a buncha purchases, then sell the shit on the streets. Then when his ass got knocked on burglary and theft charges, she started going to his connect to make moves on her own. Unfortunately, the nigga wanted some pussy and head from her ass, so she eventually started sucking and fucking him to ensure the cards kept coming in.