So come back, okay?”Ī good pimp doesn’t get paid for screwing, he gets his pay off for always having the right thing to say to a whore right on lightning tap. Then in her crisp New England accent she said, “Are you coming back to my pad this morning? You haven’t spent a night with me in a month. She stood looking at me for a long moment, her beautiful face tense in the dim dawn. She walked into the street around the Hog to the window on my side. She didn’t answer, but she did a strange thing. I said noon, not five minutes after or two minutes after, but at twelve noon sharp I want you down, got it, Baby?” His inner life is so rich with cunning and scheming to out-think his whores.Īs Kim got out I said, “Goodnight Baby, today is Saturday so I want everybody in the street at noon instead of seven tonight. Jesus! I would be glad to drop the last whore off so I could get to my own hotel to nurse my nose with cocaine and be alone. I coasted the Hog into the curb outside the hotel where Kim, my newest, prettiest girl, was cribbing. The whores went into fits of giggles at Rachel’s shaky witticism. The best pimps keep a steel lid on their emotions and I was one of the iciest. Daddy, we sure been humping for you, and what you smell is our nasty whore asses.” We been turning all night and ain’t no bathrooms in those tricks’ cars we been flipping out of. “Daddy Baby, that ain’t no shit you smell.
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Then Rachel, my bottom whore, cracked in a pleasing ass-kissing voice. “Goddamnit, has one of you bitches shit on herself or something?” I bellowed as I flipped the long window toward me. I was in an evil, dangerous mood despite that pile of scratch crammed into the glove compartment. My nose was on fire and the stink of those whores and the gangster they were smoking seemed like invisible knives scraping to the root of my brain. It happens when you’re a pig for snorting cocaine. I smelled the stink that only a street whore has after a long, busy night. My five whores were chattering like drunk magpies. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the publisher, except where permitted by law.įor further information log onto Library of Congress Control Number: 2010942563ĭawn was breaking as the big Hog scooted through the streets. He’s gotta be God all the way.”Ĭash Money Content™ and all associated logos are trademarks of Cash Money Content LLC.Īll Rights Reserved. “A pimp is the loneliest bastard on Earth. It thrills ’em when the pimps makes mistakes. He knows they are still asleep … all whores have one thing in common just like the chumps humping for the white boss.
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