Monday, February 16, 2009

A Letter


Stop hatin' me. It's not my fault. Don't sit there and say "What is he talking about?". You know. I know. Your woman knows. I see you see her looking at me. I see the anger in your eyes. I see the desire to want to kick my ass. I see you realize that would be a big mistake. I see your shoulders slump ever so slightly in defeat when you recognize the fact that she wants me and there's nothing you can do about it. Luckily for you I have a woman. A woman that has stuck by me no matter what, so I'll stick by her no matter what. Otherwise I might just take yours. Not because she's special, because I can. So the next time you see me and your woman sees me use it to your advantage. Take her home and knock the bottom out of that shit. Do you really care that she'll be thinking about me? Do you really care that she'll be screaming my name? You want to be me anyway. So for a few minutes of your miserable existence you can pretend you're me. It doesn't matter because you're gonna be getting the best piece of ass that you've ever had. Simply because she saw me.