Rant 3: Bitch

Bitch, you got me fucked up. You wanna see me? Bitch, you don’t even know me. You think I’m some bop who’s hoping to wife herself to your so-called man? Get the story straight. I’m not you, bitch. I don’t need to be doing little shit like sending little chickenshit messages to people, always trying to have the last word. My girls is holding me back, saying you ain’t worth me getting all pissed off with your goddamn messiness. I’m a grown woman and I don’t need to feed your drama. You best keep my name out your mouth. Don’t be worried about me. You want him so bad, check his ass. You got something to say to me, then say it directly. Woman up. And then we’ll see who’s got something to say.
That’s what I thought. Don’t make me get all ghetto on your ass. You think because I’m making all this money and got this badass title and education that I couldn’t wipe the floor with your stupid ass? You don’t want to see me. No me busques porque me vas a encontrar. And that won’t be cute.

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