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"ion like how you just picked me up like i'm yo bitch assum." omari mugged me as he got in the car.
"youon have the right to be mad at me, i should be mad at you." i mugged him back driving off.
"watchu want cuh."
"omari stop fuckin playin with me."
this nigga getting me mad i'm finna open the door and throw him out going 100 on da highway.
"i'm sorry, how may i help you." he sarcastically said leaving over the center console resting his chin on his hands.
"are you okay?" i asked him parking up into the empty parking lot.
"i'm fine, perfect, splendid-"
"omari i'm not playing with you what's goin on?" i sat back in my seat.
"i'm chillin bruh." he chuckled grabbing the blunt from behind his ear.
he making me mad and i'm about to cry to make him feel bad.
"talk to me please foe i take that blunt and rip it up into pieces."
"you ain't on shit." he scoffed lighting it.
after a moment of silence, he finally spoke.
"wanna hit?" he asked referring to the blunt.
"yes." i mumbled looking out the window seeing a crackhead scratching his ass.
"hmm, i feel depressed as fuck." he handed me the blunt.
"wassup? why?" i asked taking a long pull and blowing the smoke out my mouth and nose.
"bruh this shit too much fa me. my son getting sicker each day, i almost lost my fuckin life, this guh skressin me aht, i'm tryna work more than one jobs to pay fa asim hospital bills i just dunno man." he sighed rubbing his hand down his face.
