“OhmyGod, I can’t believe I told you that, and you remembered. Girl, he finally got that shit together. Took him two years to learn how’ta slow it down and not be so damn eager to nut. I mean, damn. I know I got that bomb pussy, but still.”

I suck my teeth. “Ho, please. Ain’t nobody tryna hear ’bout how ill ya snatch work is. I asked you ’bout Divine handlin’ his. I’m glad he finally got that situation together, though. I’d hate for him to get fucked over ’cause he ain’t fuckin’ you right, even though the nigga’s been damn good to you.”

“Sweetie, don’t think I don’t know what you doin’. Fuck you.”

I laugh, tightly rollin’ my blunt. I spark it, takin’ a toke. “Ho, I got nuthin’ but love for ya silly ass. But that nigga Divine needs to straight dip on ya ass ’cause you ain’t ever gonna ’preciate what you got.”

“Bitch, how you sound? That shit ain’t true. I know what I got.”

“Oh, really? And what’s that?”

“I gotta nigga in my bed,” she snapped, servin’ me up a dish of ’tude. “What’a ’bout you?”

I ig the ’tude and keep pressin’. “Ho, yeah, you might gotta nigga. But ya ass is still scrapin’ the barrel tryna find ya next catch. I’m paid, bitch. I don’t need a nigga. And a bitch ain’t trickin’ no niggas to make shit pop. That’s what about me.”

“Bitch, what-da-fuck-eva. You still need some dick in ya life.”

I sigh, blowin’ weed smoke up at the ceilin’. I swear. Hoes like her make me sick. They ain’t neva satisfied wit’ what the fuck they have. Always lookin’ to chase down the next nigga wit’ the biggest dick, or thickest knot. I don’t know how the fuck that nigga don’t know what time it is wit’ her ass. Mmmph. A hot, fuckin’ mess!

“Oh, sweetie, don’t go there. How ’bout you not worry ’bout what I need, okay?”

“You need to get ya mind right, Chanel. Do sumthin’ wit’ ya’self.”