Blood is thicker than water- a phrase many have heard and implemented in their everyday lives. For the Knighton brothers, it was more than just a phrase. For them it was a motto, their creed. It meant that nobody, friend or love interest, was above...
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Pimpin' ain't easy but it sho' is fun. I smirked as I bobbed my head to the Notorious B.I.G.'s song Just Playin'. That was my shit. I never related to another lyric as much as I did that one. I laughed to myself as I sped downI-40 in my Bentley truck, thinking back to the blow up this chick and I had yesterday. I was upstairs beating that pussy like a drum and she was going crazy, just the way I liked. I loved the fact that I could have women so easily dickmatized. We'd met only a week prior and she swore up and down that she wasn't that type of girl. I knew that was a lie though. All women were sluts to me, you just had to put them in the right environment at the right time.
When I invited her to the house after a week of late night phone calls and long, tiring conversations— she put up a front like she wasn't down. As far as I was concerned, the moment she stepped foot in my house she was on my type of time. There was no need to keep pussyfooting around it; she wanted to fuck, just like I did— I could see it in her eyes. I knew the act she was trying to keep up wasn't gonna last long.
She was only there for about fifteen minutes before I had her bent over my dresser, banging her back out. After we finished, I tossed her clothes at her and told her to get the fuck out. Shit was always gravy until I told a bitch she had to bounce. Typically I'd lay with 'em for a couple minutes and then make up some excuse about why they had to leave, but I didn't feel like doing that with her— plus the pussy was whack.
"Fuck you, Kydric!! Erase my damn number, you fucking loser!!" I remember her yelling after I pushed her out of my room butt ass naked with all her belongings. I just laughed from the other side of the door. I was gonna delete her number anyway.
Silly bitch. I thought to myself as I stopped at a red light. Reem was gonna be pissed that I was so late picking him up but I didn't really care. It wasn't my fault his practice got canceled last minute, not to mention I was across town. I lit a blunt as I began cruising down the street again with my windows down and music blasting.
Anyone who knew me, knew that I wasn't one for relationships. I'd rather fuck a broad on the regular and throw a few dollars her way to keep her satisfied. That was my idea of a relationship. Plus, bitches always did whatever they could to keep the money flowing and if you were fucking with me, I spared no expense. If the pussy was good, you could get anything you wanted from me, and in turn I was able to run the streets and do the exact same thing with the next bitch. That was just the way I played the game. I had a nice collection of honey's under my belt, but no one was touching my Fab 3, as I called them.
Alita was first on my list. I'd been dealing with her for the past two years, on and off, and we got along pretty well whenever she wasn't running off at the mouth. She was about her paper and she'd been working along side me at my barbershop for the last six months. I'd met her at a Steak-N-Shake one night and when I saw her, I just knew I had to have her. She was smart as hell and the woman could smell bullshit from a mile away. She and I were the same age and unfortunately for me, whenever I tried to run game she automatically picked up on it.
