Oh, trust. I heard how some’a them corny-ass broads were tryna come at my neck for puttin’ a bullet in Grant’s bucket. Predictable, they say? Uh, what the fuck them birds thought I was gonna do? Let the nigga walk after he done popped up in the room and saw I done bodied his fam? Bitch, puhleeze. You must be smokin’ that shit if you thought I was gonna let that nigga get a free pass. Yeah, he had that bomb-ass dick. And yeah, the nigga’s head game was sick. He knew how’ta tongue-fuck this pussy ’til a bitch shook. But, fuck what ya heard. Good dick, slammin’ tongue, or not. My number one rule is: No witnesses, no evidence. Period! So say what the hell you want. I’ma paid bitch, not a dumb one.

Still, I’ma keep it raw wit’cha. For a hot minute, my soul ached. It ripped a bitch’s heart to have’ta lay that fine, sexy nigga down. And yeah…I dropped a few tears. But there was no other option. Well, none that was gonna work for me. Prison, not! Him puttin’ lead in me, not! Me stressin’, wonderin’ if the nigga’s gonna be on some revenge-type shit, not! So, he had’a go. And for a bitch like me, it was for the best.

Like I told ya’ll from the dip, I fucked for sport. But I murdered for business. Yes, you heard me. I said fucked and murdered as in past tense. Well, for now, that is. It’s been almost two years since a bitch rode down on sum dick, then took the nigga’s head off. Shit, a bitch ain’t had no dick since…neva mind. I ain’t in the mood to get into it right now.

My cell rings. I grab it off the nightstand, peepin’ the digits.

“Bitch,” Chanel snaps in my ear the minute I answer. “What took ya ass so long to answer?”

“Slut,” I snap back, “the last time I checked I wasn’t suckin’ ya clit, so pump ya raggedy brakes ’fore you get ya fronts knocked.”

She laughs. “Trick, puhleeze. Ya ass ’posed to pick up on da first ring. You know what it is, boo. Don’t have ma-ma spank that ass.” She laughs harder. Oh, I see this ho is in rare form this mornin’, I think as I try ’n hold back a yawn.