My bitch looking like a bag of money. I see bitches staring with hate and niggas lusting for her.
About 10 minutes later we walked in front of the restaurant, watching some of the diners that sat on the outside laughing, chowing and sipping on mimosas. It's too cold to be sitting outside if you ask me.
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"You always wanna eat somewhere fancy man", I say as we entered the restaurant.
The smooth sound of jazz played softly over us as waiters and waitresses walked passed us quickly with steaming platters of Italian food and pitchers of drinks. It was a cool environment, but the funny looks I was getting from these Italian niggas was making me a little uncomfortable.
It's like, blacks and Italians have some pure hatred for each other for no fucking reason. I mean, I aint got no reason but on the business level I can see why. Everyone hates everyone when it comes to getting money.
You fuck with my bag, I might have to kill you.
"Wait right here baby", Monae says as she walked off into the crowd.
"Monae...Monae!", I called out to her before sucking my teeth in annoyance.
I turned my head in her direction, and frowned my face as I watched her give double cheek kisses to some Italian guy in a black shirt, unbuttoned showing his chest with a pair of black slacks.
The table was off to the side, in the cut as a group of suited men sat in the table in front of the table Monae was standing at with this Italian nigga. My eyes diverted across the crowd as the chattering of people filled my ears.
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