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I'm myself, lot these niggas camera roll, they gotta keep up image, yeah, Wish I could talk to Ray Charles, What you'd tell him? Lord, I'd tell that nigga how lucky he was...
كيران
KIRAN MARIE' FIELDS
I PULLED INTO THE DRIVEWAY OF my dad's house about to go inside for a few minutes.
"None of his bitches bet not say shit to me." I sighed grabbing my phone out of the passenger seat.
I knocked on the door waiting for someone to open it. The door swings open revealing one of his girlfriends.
"Darrell who the fuck is this-" She mugged me.
"His damn daughter. Not one of you hoes." I walked right pasted her.
My "dad" has been fucked up ever since he left that night. He's been doing this drug lord shit for two decades.
After my mom passed he really couldn't get over it so he would fuck how many females he could so he wouldn't think of her.
All you could smell in the air was weed, liquor, and sweaty bodies in the house.
I didn't see him downstairs in the living room so I went upstairs.
"How could you trash a house up this bad?" I mumbled to myself as I saw each piece of trash on each step of the stairs.
I knocked on the door of his room not hearing anyone respond until I heard a moan.
I opened the door anyway cause I'm not standing there all day.
Two girls were naked kissing on one of the chairs in the room, and there he was sitting on the end of the bed counting his stacks.
"Wassup, babygirl." He smiled as put down his money to speak.
