The Bald Headed You

& no this isn't bout weave. Its about how you feel when we approach you when you feel you bummy as hell ladies. Just felt like saying half y'all bald headed anyways. Had to get that out the way early. Well, now hey how you doing this evening? Great I might guess looking at you in sweats, tucked in your Uggs, no makeup, hair wrapped & a nice lil dingy hoodie. O yes m'am we still gonna holla at you. Wonder why? Because this the you We gonna see eventually. Now of course you want us to come slide on up behind you when you woke up flawless as mother Bey but you ain't her you peasant & you ain't gonna be like that 24/7 boo. It bothers you we asking for the digits when you ran in the store breath smelling like lemon pepper on your muthafuckin WANGS for a juice & tampons. But see Jesus said in one them books any which one just choose & it's there, that in route to get vagina & her heart, to not get used to her mesmerizing image for it is false to trap our soul into headaches & who that bitch arguments.

The Rules: Playing The Wing

Because I don't want your ugly ass. I'm here insuring my nigga fuck the brakes of your homegirl off these here Henny shots, cool? It's a simple thing really. He wants to hook up with her but you defensive player of the year 3 nights straight, 5 years in a row, so my nigga got the scoop on you & brought in reinforcements. Now judge the wingman not by him having a girl or just wasting great flirting on the bum friend to occupy the blocking away from the QB so my man's can get that sack in. There for the side entertainment. The cheerleader, no homo. What kind of friend would we be letting our homie fly into the drunken bar skies dolo? A future lonely drinking fucker that is. All in the name of support & friendship & drinking & getting bitches & drinking but mostly getting bitches but yea for the drinking.