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I love my homegirl and all, but she got beat the fuck up.
I should've jumped in, but real talk, I ain't fought in a few months, and I don't even know if I still got it like that.
Watching her get done in like that lowkey made me feel guilty, though. But then it hit me—I still owe Kaliyah a fade.
...Or maybe not. The truth is, I don't even wanna beef with her. Kaliyah's the type to take shit way too far, and once she's mad, she beefin' with you until she dies. I'm not tryna live my life watching my back every time I step out the house. That ain't even my vibe.
Still, though, Amare? She was fuckin' them bitches up. I mean, I know that's right, bae...
I'm trolling. That's not my bitch, and her pussy a party anyway.
"Nana!"
"Yeah, Ma?"
Here come my mama, messy as hell. She swung my door open like it owed her money, holding her phone out with that smug-ass look on her face.
I knew exactly what she was about to bring up before she even said anything. The damn video of Kaliyah and Kaykay fighting was already playing on the screen.
"So, what happened?"
I groaned, knowing there was no escaping her interrogation. "Kaykay and Kaliyah was beefin', and it led to that."
"Kaykay was poppin' it again?"
All I could do was nod. I love my girl, but she gotta pick her battles better.
Mama tilted her head, and her tone got all judgmental. "Teach your friend how to fight, please."
"How I'mma teach her how to fight, Ma?" I shot back, giving her the side-eye. No, seriously, how?
She waved me off like I was dumb. "I don't know, but figure it out. Your homegirl gettin' tore up in every fight? That ain't a good look."
"Not too much on her," I muttered.
"Yes, too much on her," she snapped back, laughing now. "Out of all bitches to fight, she chose Kaliyah? She needs to go fight people who can't fight. And I saw the aftermath too—she looked terrible."
