Those fucking cards

As much as I cant stand my mother me and her do operate on the same wave lengths. I'm sitting in the dressing room trying impossibly to make myself more gorgeous than I am (that was Fairytalez talking) and then I call C. He doesnt pick up and that dont bother me. What bothers me is a flashback I had (I was dancin for him in the kitchen and fell on the floor (Rose) and saw a hair on the floor. And my shorty meticulous, calculating damn near gay. He keeps his hair in a fade, mine was in the wig and the hair I found was soft and curly. I thought it coud be his daughter's but she only there on the weekends and holidays it was Monday. Hmmmm? Intresting. Then all of a sudden he starts talking real fast about shit he gonna buy and things he gonna do and throw me sum bills, hush money?)
After I did my hair, I called my mother and asked her if he was cheating she said call me back in 10 mintues but she called me back in 5 and said,"No he isnt but alot of bitches is trying to get at him."
Thats the fucked up part having a nigga in the hoodlight. I mean he been in it. His name ring bells on his side. And now the level he on he exposed to the hood model bitches. And I aint one of them. I get cutesy and shit but I'm a tomboy to the core. You never gonna see me in 400 shoes and a 2k dress. Unless sumone sponsor it. I spend wid sense. I'm not gonna be the chick in the hair salon 3 times a week and needs to be the hood ornament (hustler trophy wife).
We talk deep. He understand me. His pipe game is bananas. And his banana pancakes is bangin but...gotta let go. The way we met was fucked up. I met him thru a chick I knew from Queens, she danced too. Then one day one of her customers wanted her to do a private dance. She wanted me to come to watch her back and she told me his peoples was there too. I was just there to smoke and look pretty but this bitch set me up. The whole story was a plot to get me over there.
So I'm sitting downstairs with this nigga and he talking some ole how much it cost? I give him the "I'm too cute, smart and hood to sell my pussy" speech and he falls back and says sorry if he offended me and then we just started talking and he made me some tea because my stomach hurt then we smoked and we actually liked each other's company. 2 hours later we go upstairs and this bitch and her custie sitting on the couch. She give me that look and when we get in the cab I told her what happend and she said,"Ya'll aint fuck?" "Nah, we was just talking then I danced for him" "So why he give you that stack?" "Guess he liked my conversational skillz" she looked vexed. We both went over there like 10 times all them times me and him aint bone he was just giving me money to come and go. Then one day he told me not to bring Akilah and I went over there and he start talking that friends with benefits shit and by this time I'm feeling his swag so much I really didnt mind how I met him. So we started as friends with benefits. Then we was boyfriend and girlfriend. Then I got pregnant and I was wifey.
When I think about it rappers and hustlers r soo much alike. Bars excluded.
He called me like 5x this morning.
But Ima let a nigga go before he let me go. Because he is THAT nigga u be reading about in the hood novels and they always fuck a chick on the side. That expains them private phone calls with Clucks on the other end. He certainly got enough guap to keep a harem. The car he bought me sitting in a lot on 215 and Jamaica, pretty red infinity 07' barely used. He can keep it.
Things changed since high fool.