Ecstasy- Rapper imagines

Barbershop- nba youngboy

My names Curly and I cut hair. Being a female barber isn't easy, especially where I'm from. Homies always tryna holla. But I don't pay them no mind, I do my job. It's been my dream since forever to own my own barber/beauty shop. Where the girls and the guys can look fly, feel fly, and just be fly. It's gonna be huge, biggest spot on the block. And all the dudes I work with are gonna work for me, (aside from Biggie, you'll see why). It'll be called Curls and Cuts. Freshest place on the map, just watch. People will be coming from all over just to come up in my place. I'm gonna open shops all over the map too, Cali, Montana, Florida, Texas, Washington- maybe even Alaska.

"Yo, Curly, I got next," Reg yells from his seat across the room. Homie always claiming he got next knowing he was the last person in here. He stays with a low cut, low taper fade. It fits him nice too.

"Nah bro, I was here way before you," Mick says, walking to my seat.

"What hair she 'posed to cut? You ain't got nothin'."

"I know yo' bald-"

"Hush y'all," I yell, spraying alcohol on the back of Malcolm's head. This dude stays in my shop. Always getting a light taper to go along with his full head of curls. He gets those to slashes in his eyebrows too. Homeboy is the definition of fine, I'm telling yall. That's why I love my job, I get to turn bums into macks. Ray J's into Kanye's. Bobby Brown's into Chris Brown's.  That's who I am, Curly.

"We have a new cleaner today," Buggsy says. "He just got outta juvie and he needed sum to do so I gave him a job as a janitor. Curly, he gon' need a good cut tho. Looks like he been wolfing for 2 years."

"I gotchu, but he payin' me or?"

"I gotchu, he keeping you spot clean. Plus, he a good guy. Might pull you."

"Pull me? Nah, homie fresh outta the pin. No thug could pull me," I say, lining Mick up.

"For real, I been tryna pull shorty since I found this joint," Malcolm says, coming out of the bathroom. "I got bank, I'm a 4.0 student, and I'm going to college on a full ride. Still won't give me the time of day."

"Maybe if your wanna-be Usher behind would have time. You stay with somebody," I respond.

The door opens, in comes the finest dude in the existence of the world. He's dark, and he needs a cut, like for real. But without it, he's fine fine. His dents are not it tho, but he makes it work.

"Yo, Buggsy."

"Wassup, Kentrell ."

"Everything got trell at the end these days," one of the old heads starts rambling. "Latrell, katrell, Lontrell. Shontrell. 20 years later and we still ghetto as before."

"I heard that," another one says. That's why I love this shop. We got all ages and talk about every damn thing. The news, government, music, the Bible, even be talking about Justin Bieber and his marrige. They think Selena and Hailey need to have a boxing match or one of them rap battles Hailey be hosting. I say, leave them the hell alone. But you know some black people, always wanting drama.

"I told you not to call me that. It's youngboy." He looks around the shop. "It looks good up in here cuz."

He looks in my area, the seats are filled with dudes waiting on me to work my magic. We make eye contact, and he smirks. I roll my eyes and spray alcohol, this is my normal. Cut, spray, repeat. "Y'all got a chick in here?"

"Yup, you got a problem with that," I ask, looking at him in the eyes. He smirks again.

"Nah, I like it. Gives me something to look at," He looks at me up and down and bites his lip. I roll my eyes again.

"Its not an even exchange, I don't like what I have to look at."

"But you will, after you do sum with that bush on his head," Buggsy says, finishing up his client, my next one steps up.

"What im supposed to do," Kentrell asks.

"Get that broom, clean my spot. I'm done for the day. Clean everybody else's place when they leave, and the bathroom. Get the mirrors good too. Curly, make sure you lock up after you cut his hair."

"I gotchu."

"Yo, Kentrell. Whea you from?"

"Its Youngboy."

"Whatever. "

"I'm from Baton Rouge, just moved here with my mama."

"Ayo, youngman," I yell while cleaning my guards.

"What Guh," he yells back. I roll my eyes.

"I'm ready for you."

"Alright, I'm coming." He comes out of the bathroom with a smile on his face.

"C'mon. I'm hungry."

"What's that gotta do with me?"

"The longer you take, the longer my stomach is empty."

"Well, lemme take you out then."

"Boy, if you don't go somewhere," i say as he sits in my chair and i put the covering around him.

"I'll buy you a burger and fries at shake shack."

"How'd you know I like shake shack?"

"Your trash was full of bags from them."

"You goin through my trash?"

"You cutting my hair?" I get into my zone, as Aaliyah's Try Again blasts throughout the room. I cut a little off the top because he's giving very much Jackson Five right now. I turn him around to line him up, and tape his sides. He looks directly at me and smiles. "You doing yo thing huh?"

"Hush and let me work." I line him up and fade him, and let me tell you, my lines are sharp. I spray him with alcohol and he jumps which makes me laugh my behind off.

"Its not that funny."

"But it kinda is." I remove the cape, and he looks into the mirror.

"Damn, I'm fine as hell," He yells. He pulls me beside him, and wraps an arm around me. "Don't we look good together?"

"I look good, and you look put together," I respond, grabbing the broom and handing it to him. "You got a car?"

"Nah, my mama supposed to be picking me up."

"Tell her not to worry, I gotchu."

"You sure?"

"Yeah, now hurry up. My stomach is yelling."

"I'm coming mane."

"Keep talking and you'll be walking home."

"I ain't call my mama yet."

"Hurry up!"