Thot Stamp

Don't use me

"Really? You used my name?"

Marquez didn't even know Michael was behind him in the locker room when he was telling his story to Mariyah.

However, it was hard to miss Michael. He stood over 6'4, broad shoulders, and had the physical built and almost face of Corey Maggette. Michael Phillips was a dominant player on the court and also with the ladies. Michael wouldn't have any problem dealing with women or being so depressed over one he would need Marquez to come help him.

Michael looked at Marquez in disgust. "You telling some bitch lies about me?"

"It's not some bitch, it was my girl. I was in a jam," Marquez tried to defend.

"Lie on someone else's dick not mines, homie," Michael said opening his locker. 'I don't know how y'all do it out here but we don't bring other niggas into our shit. That's how lies get turned into rumors and rumors start ruining motherfuckers' lives. Look, I don't know how ya niggas are but I seen a lot of guys wifing the bitch you're supposed to be smutting and smutting the chick you're supposed to be wifing. Shit is ass backwards up here."

'Where are you from anyway?" Marquez asked. Marquez really didn't know anything about his team's new future shooting guard except he just came from another school and got on the team.

"Why? You writing a book?" Michael remarked tossing his sweatshirt in the locker and pulling out his jersey.

"No, I'm just curious," Marquez said.

"Bitches are curious, homie," Michael replied. "You're trying to get more of a background story to go with your lie to your bitch."

"I told you she's not a bitch," Marquez was getting uptight.

"Right, right," Michael nodded. "That's why you lying to her? Because she's not a bitch? She obviously ain't your girl if you got to lie to her. And if you are, that means you was doing something that was worth lying for. My guess is you was fucking with another bitch. She found out somehow and you had to come with that lame excuse. But the bitch loves you so she's going to swallow that shit like cough medicine."

"You don't even know me to be talking about me or my girl," Marquez stated.

Michael slammed his locker door. "You're right and you don't know me to be using my name in your bullshit lie. Get this straight, homie, I'm here to play basketball and win games. The reason why I came here is none of anyone's concern and where I come from is not anyone's concern. The only thing you need to know about me is my name and my position. Everything else you'll could read it in my bio when I retire at the age of 38 after making MVP over a dozen times and have a shitload of championship rings on my mantle."

"You sure are full of yourself," Marquez said.

"Yep, sure am," Michael smiled. "That's why you talking about me to your bitch."

"You got one more time to call my girl a bitch," Marquez warned.

Michael laughed. "Oh, ok, So now you're defending her honor. You just lied to her, probably fucked some other stank in the process. But now, you want to be noble and poke your chest out at me. Give me a break."

"You got one more," Marquez reiterated getting up off the bench he was sitting on.

Michael laughed again.

"You don't want to do this," Michael warned. "It won't be good for you."

Marquez said nothing but clenched his fist.

"Oh, you really want to go," Michael said. "Okay."

Michael stepped back.

"I hope this bitch is worth this ass whipping," Michael said and Marquez lunged at him.