I just want to eat, fuck, sleep, and be merry, my nigga -- and in that order.
-- Brown
"Okay, it's been four days and you still haven't left to go any where yet. What's really up, baby?" Michelle asked like she couldn't believe a nigga could ever stay home.
I kept my eyes on the flat screen TV on the wall and my fingers beating at the buttons on the X Box 360 controller in my hand, "I already told you, 'Chelle. I'm never here with you, so a nigga just tryna spend some time with his girl. Is anything wrong with that?" I lied. I just wasn't trying to run back into Dre to be honest.
"You haven't been spending time with me!" She whined, "You've been playing the game the whole time, Brown."
Dawon Jackson, the nigga I was playing with in the game missed the ball his teammate threw at him. It was like the nigga had butter slicked on his hands, it just slid thru'. "Damn! This nigga sorry as fuck in real life and in the game!"
I heard Michelle suck her teeth, "Brown!"
"I hear you, baby," I told her just as soon as my team on Madden made a touch down, "That's what I'm talkin' 'bout! Y'all niggas can't fuck with us!"
Michelle sucked her teeth again before pushing the side of my head with her fingers, "You make me sick!" she yelled before storming off down the hallway of my apartment.
"Michelle! Don't leave, baby!" I yelled out, my eyes still glued to the game. Damn, this shit make me feel like I should've played ball in school except track. I would've been in the NFL right now and a nigga wouldn't have to worry 'bout nun-thing.
"Michelle!" I called again even after I knew she wasn't coming back.
It was a hard thing to do, but I paused the game just for my girl and went to the back to my room where I knew she was.
"Chelle?" I said, twisting on the locked door knob, "Open the door."
"No, go back and play your stupid-ass game," she said in her baby-like voice, "It's more important to you anyway."
I sucked my teeth. "No, it ain't, girl. You know that game don't mean shit to me like you do," I told her, feeling like a damn fool for talking to the door. "Come on and open the door, baby."
Seconds later, she opened it. I stepped in and got on top of her in the bed as soon as she laid down.
She stopped me with her hands on my chest, "Move, Brown. I'm not in the mood to play."
I moved her hands before bending down to kiss on her neck "Who playing, girl?" I asked, wiggling my fingers in her side.
She laughed, "Stop." She slapped my shoulder, "See, you playing right now."
My phone started to ring on the table, but the tone went in one ear out the other when Michelle began to kiss me passionately. I slid one of my hands down her soft thighs and just when I was about to put one in her cotton shorts, she grabbed it and snatched it back up to her waist.
I let her break our lips apart to slide my T-shirt over my head. My phone kept on ringing while she felt all over my abs n'shit before she pulled me back and kissed me hungrily.
When I tried to ease my hand back in her shorts, she played my ass again by moving my hand away.
I broke away. "Man, what the fuck, Michelle? It's been 9 months and you still ain't ready yet?"
I told her I'll be patient, I told her I'll wait, I told her when ever she's ready, I'm ready, but now this shit is taking it to the extreme. She better be happy for Omanda 'cause if it wasn't for her, I would've had to leave her ass. A nigga would've gone nine months with not even a sniff of pussy!
"Oh, don't even go there, Brown, 'cause you told me it wasn't even about the sex!" She yelled.
"That was before I knew you would make me wait for a whole fuckin year." Shit, a nigga get tired of beating his meat only after so long.
"Well, excuse me for not having sex with you after one week of knowing you. Excuse the fuck out of me for being a virgin! Most men would be proud to say their girl is one."
"No, niggas are proud to say their girl was one. They proud to be the first one to hit. I'm not hitting shit, so what the fuck I got to be proud of?" I picked up my nonstop ringing phone and read the screen. It was my cousin Big Jr, and that nigga only call me for a reason.
I left Michelle in the room talking shit as I answered the phone. "What up, big cuz?"
"Why the fuck you didn't tell me you owed that bitch-ass nigga Dre?" he got straight to the point. "He was finna kill yo' ass ova' a couple of pennies is what I hear."
A lot of people didn't know we were fam 'cause unlike a basic-ass nigga I don't go around bragging on another nigga dick. Yeah, my cousin got Alabama, Mississippi, Georgia , Florida, and Tennessee on lock, but so fucking what? That ain't got shit to do with me. Besides, it keeps down a lot of confusion anyway.
I shook my head, "Cuz, I know you ain't calling me on no he-say-she-say shit. Yeah, I owed him -- still owe him, and I'ma pay him back when I get the money."
He chuckled, "and when will that be?"
I rolled my eyes to the ceiling. Here he go.
"See, if you was to go into business with me, you'll have niggas owing you," he corrected, "you and yo' girl would be straight, nigga."
"Nah, that shit ain't for me," I told him what I've been telling him my whole life, but when you watch a nigga literally go from rags to riches right before your eyes anybody would get a little tempted.
"Yeah, I knew you'll say that shit," he grumbled, "Look, you don't got to worry about paying Dre shit. I took care of it for you, cuz." From the sound of his voice I could tell his big ass was smiling and if Big Jr was smiling it was only because of one thing.
"What you did to him?" I asked like he would really tell me over the phone.
"I got to go, cuz," he spoke in a rush, "next time you go by Big Momma house tell her I said hey and I miss her peach cobbler."
The phone clicked in my ear and all I could do was shrug. Whatever he did is between him and God, I'm just happy that nigga ain't in my hair no more.
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A / N :
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