Fly, exotic bitch wit’ the long lashes and slanted eyes…smooth, buttery thighs…fat ass…soft lips…got niggas ’n they bitches tryna get up in these hips…got ’em turnin’ tricks…beggin’ to lick the clit…while I’m ridin’ down on a nigga’s dick…got muhfuckas lined up to get glazed wit’ my cream…niggas tossin’ ’n turnin’…can’t get me outta they dreams…

’Scuse me, bitches! Can I have ya attention, please? In case some of you hatin’-ass Tricks and Hoes forgot who I am, let me reintroduce myself. I’m that cinnamon-colored beauty with that sexy swagger and straight-up bangin’ body that keeps the bitches rollin’ they eyes—and niggas recklessly eyeballin’ me, undressin’ and tryna mentally fuck me. I’m that chick rockin’ all the fly wears and pushin’ the hot-ass whip that all the other bitches wanna be like. I’m the chick bitches still wanna hate, but love to grin up in her face, always wantin’ to be up in her space ’cause I’m e’erything they’ll never be. Rich, fly and muthafuckin’ F-I-N-E! Not braggin’; just keepin’ shit real. Bitch, whaaaat?

Call me shallow, call me superficial; call me whatever the fuck floats ya boat, but know this: You’ll never call a bitch broke, busted, or beat down. So keep hatin’. Keep poppin’ shit. Keep pickin’ ya face up. ’Cause a bitch like me feeds you dust. So, poof!

Annnnnnnywho, for my bitches and niggahs who I fucks wit’, I was on hiatus for a hot minute. I had’a step outta the game to get my mind right. ’Cause on some real shit, after how shit went down in Atlantic City, it had a bitch’s dome all jacked.