The streets don't love nobody, but she keeps going back!
Meet Rain, former dancer turned business woman, covert in her ways but nothing to play with. An aspiring artist, with acclaimed star filled links from Bankhead to LA.
Chanel and Freddie grew onto each other instantly, like some sort of overly sexual but loving fungus that mutated when they joined forces. I enjoyed seeing her let go of the outcomes, gifts and just enjoy her time with him. They were familiar real quick, fucking like they knew each other for real, funnier when combined, like the drunk uncle and high aunty couple, that came to the cook out late, were wealthy and didn't have kids so spoiled everyone with cash gifts, spicy stories of the good old days when they were single, and dark jokes that resulted in gusty laughs. We would laugh about damn near everything. They loved spending time with me, and I did too. Freddie snapping our fits before we left, turnt and ready to party.
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Like a lil bad ass trio, dripped to death, diamonds and dat ass on front stage, as we hehe'd and had too many drinks to count. Until I noted their touchy feely eyes, signals they wanted to fuck and I wanted no parts in that. It was usually just us three, but Bri would come along too sometimes, suggesting we went back to my crib, and made our own music alike her cousin and the love of her life, who could be heard beating down the bed and our ear drums with screams of pleasure and demands for more.
I was fond of his weed connect, and made friends with him too, as I invited him to sessions with his girl and some of the gang, we would have too much wine, liquor and smoke until I felt like lyrics were an anomaly, so we would have spar sessions. Me playing the innocent at first, until he realised I could go, and wasn't rapping about the bubble gum pussy pop rap princess fairytale shit my peers tend to. The ones who buy their bars, but hit below the bar every time. Millions invested and their outcomes are to resort back to the shit they got into rap to avoid, shaking ass, selling pussy and plotting on a rich nigga for a bag. I always wrote poems and raps, hanging with the block boys made spitting on the spot natural.
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Being a pretty girl made snapping and clapping back a must too, so I worked the two into a pen neither niggas or bitches could fuck with, respectfully. Even the bars were bisexual at first, my first tape was literally called Both Ways, dropped the week after I was the talk of the hood, as Man Man beat my ass for fucking Drake and Bri. I was bruised up, hiding away but writing and Aubrey sent me a bag to book out the studio, and get to it. I didn't need the money, but the motivation was priceless and paid off as I got signed from the project. Not wanting Freddie to know the real me as owas a rapper too now. But he listened to me record a verse for the album and said I was hard.
