"You are now a free woman, dawg. Come to this strip joint with me," My homie, Dwayne, asked but we call him Ice because he was always wearing at least one diamond whether an earring or Rolex or chain. And an ice pick was his go to weapon.
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As of right now he's been talkin my got damn ear off about this strip joint I can't even remember the name of.
".... I'm telling you the place is fire. The chicks are bad. Come on It's just gon be me, Bonnie, Clyde, and Dreads," he begged.
I decided to let the little nigga out his misery, "Fine. What the he'll is the name of this place anyway? I swear if it's called some shit like Areola 51 I ain't goin," I told him.
I leaned over him and grabbed the blunt I rolled last night and lit it with a lighter and took a pull and released.
I passed it to him.
"That actually ain't a bad name," he said letting the air out as if he finna proposition the owner to change the name of this club. "The name is Pleasure Overkill or Passion Inducer. I wasn't lookin at the name ya fill me!" His dumbass said.
I rolled my eyes at the little nigga wondering what I got my ass into as I released the pull from the blunt enjoying my high.
