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"Excuse me miss ma'am?!" A nigga grinned as we walked into the gas station.
Here we fucking go dawg
"How you doing?"
"Hi."
"That's not- but yeah they call me Rell though, shit you can call me bae but Rell'a do just fine."
"That's cute."
"What's yo name?"
"My name's Tameka."
"Damn so whatc- where you going?"
"You don't see me walking in the fucking gas station?"
"I like em fiesty." He growled, scratching the air. "Where you from though? I ain't never seen you round here, whatchu doing round here?"
"Living life."
"I like a woman who take initiative."
Spell initiative you dumb fuck
"Who you know round here?"
"People." I shrugged, coming up with some names on the spot. "Pooter, Man Man nem."
"Damn that's some fuck niggas you hanging round." He made a face. "Fuck with me though, take my number down or some shit. You acting like you don't see a nigga tryna put down or sum."
"I will shove this bag of hot fries so far up yo as- what the fuck is your number?"
"Whatchu said?"
"What the fuck is your number?" I repeated, speaking a little slower this time.
"786-786-6113."
"Voila magic, get the fuck out of my face now."
"Aht aht." He cheesed. "Call me right now cause I feel like you faking, call me fore I slap the shit out of you."
Excuse me-
"I don't know how the fuck you Miami niggas get down but you can't talk to me like that bitch. Move out the fucking wa- Kam'rn stop fucking recording me bitch." I snapped, pointing at a snickering Kam'rn & Co. "Get out the fucking store nigga."
