Talk that talk
Master of the wits.
This ain't your first time around the block brotha
I can tell.
You gotta make her feel special
Division of the legs requires separation of something far more complex.
Her mind is an obstacle
But this ain't your first time around the block brotha
I can tell.
Nothing the effects of a couple empty lies can't fix.
The residue from the very prime of your sweet talking, enough to shake a woman down to her soaked core, serve as a lowly reminder.
A quick flick of your tongue provides a quick solution.
It's gone, and you're free to start again.
No evidence.
Start in on your coy, romanticized lines that for you now come with ease
You don't gotta mean it
You just gotta keep ya beady eyes sincere long enough to slither her out her being
And slither deeper into it soon enough.
Yes, her legs may shake
They may tremble
Shit, how could they not?
Being faced with an entity wielding such .. Extensive powers is a challenge.
I don't blame her.
When a young brotha,
Locks worthy of a king up top
Physic of a warrior down bottom,
Skin so smooth, drenched in the scent of what would seem to be ambitious and power
Approaches you with a sturdy game,
His roll of the dice always comes up as a win.
