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"I hope you ain't catchin' feelings for no bitch who fucked the crew. You know I'm independent get the 'rillo bust a jug. You know that purple reign had them hitters on foot. I see you acting strange I can tell this ain't love." — Future
𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐔𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 ▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅
「 ︎𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐘𝐌, 𝐒𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐓 "𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐎︎" 」
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"I'll really fucking kill you. Why do you take me as a joke, do you see me smiling or laughin?!" Harlym asked, biting her bottom lip. Jèliese standing in the back of her, shaking her head. "You're literally so embarrassing."
"Where yo' daddy? I can't fucking stand you. Every-time you here, you give me a fucking problem! Give me my shit Ahmad." Harlym slammed her hand down on the shelf twisting her head to look at him.
"I hate you. I really do hate you."
"All you have to do is show me your ID. How hard can that possibly be Harlo?" Ahmad asked, his strong accent coming out. She continued to bite down on her lip, trying to think of something to say. An excuse. "When I die don't come to my funeral bitch!" She snatched her bag off of the counter.
Ahmad tried his hardest not to laugh at Harlym. Everytime she came in the store it was something, he knew all her threats were empty.
The girl looked like she wouldn't hurt a fly.
Ahmad only worked certain days, to give his father a break.
