She used to love him, now she didn’t. On to the next nigga.
Bigger bag! Different swag than the last, she move fast. He kept her laced to her acquired taste. Bad bitch thugging that’s her pace.
Expensive, elegant, extravagant! Diamonds, bags, and furs. He was silly… making the world hers.
She used to love him, but not anymore his love got pawned. His name was Shawn, she watched his sunset and stared off into a new dawn.
Her next mark was three times odd. She called him tongue tied Todd. Teasing him with the piercing in her tongue. Lounging, a mile high in the plush seats of his Lear. Sipping Ace of spades, his palate was wet they ain’t have sex yet! The cat had his tongue.
He was a square and she was a bad Bitch– on some gangsta shit! She used to love Todd until he died. One trip too many… his Lear jet crashed!
“Dam!” On to the next bag…
This one was a bit too good to be true. Lit nigga… Mississippi Lou. First purchase, he brought her a nickel plated twenty two, a Prada knapsack filled with stacks. Lingerie and some pumps from Jimmy Choo.
He loved her the most, brought her the Bentley Ghost. Then she got ghost she used to love him, but she didn’t anymore.
Her heart was sore from all this loving and Bad Bitch Thugging. Pure form… a Ghost, Loving them then disappearing. On to the next nigga. Chasing that once in a lifetime Jigga… or his type.
Fell into the arms of this nigga named Tite. He held the bag with all his might. Eyes focused, fist clenched tight. There was no relaxing that– she gave him leeway cause his dick game had her ass getting fat!
She stood pat, hips swaying knees weak. He kept her wig game on fleek and he definitely brought out her inner freak.
Young nigga always talking ’bout “No cap!” No cap– she pushed his wig back, for dipping in her Prada knapsack. And it was crazy cause she really loved him! Now she couldn’t anymore.
On to the next nigga…
He was a gangsta and she played his sweet pea. He let her run up the bag, while he ran the streets. She didn’t know if she was in love with him or his cash? She cooked, cleaned, and fucked him until she depleted his stash. Then she dashed. And she thought she loved him, but she didn’t. For her, this bad bitch shit was written.
The life she loved had her heart numb. But it was fun, spending up these niggas funds.
She did gymnastics on the pole, exercising her spirit. Not for the dough just to release her inner hoe on some meditation, zen, Deepak Chopra, transcendental, promiscuous shit… lap dancing on a bad bitch!
Soul sisters, eternal life partners, sensational bad bitch named Tosha. Kissing, sucking, and licking on her tits, internally making her cringe. This bitch was addictive… a full syringe.
Tosha invested all of her stripper ends and donated her cocaine white Benz. then it had to end. When you add one bad bitch to another bad bitch, you get one bad bitch dipping… off to the next bitch. And she used to love her, but it was hard loving these ho’s.
By now you know, this bitch ain’t slow flexing on to the next nigga… his name was Joe. White boy. Sold blow. Caked up. No joke! He spoiled her with raw bricks of coke. Her clientele was prime, he hit her with twenty at a time. She up charged to fifteen after first moving them for a dime a piece. Six figures easy!
That was the cost of her freak, Two fifty maybe more. She played it Joe. Sophisticated, educated, he believed that she was Harvard graduated, and she had a bachelor’s degree. To keep her lease on her condo on the beach is why She sold the keys. That’s what he believed.
When Joe got knocked, she had to go. Knapsack full, she took the blow and the dough. Shit was real– a few mill… bad bitch economics paid for his lawyer and the appeal. And she used to love him, but she didn’t anymore.
She was on a bad bitch tour!
She knew the angles, sexy pics galore, even naked with the four – four. Posted them on the Gram. Likes went ham!
Pan – am… Nicaragua! Dipped in Balenciaga. His name was Oscar. He signed over his wife’s lake house in Managua.
Hey!? If that’s how he wanted to pay. She never let him lay… Tobacco picking motha fucka! He enjoyed her space. He had that tobacco plantation real estate. And she only stopped there when she needed a break.
Oscar’s wife came to the house, blowing her shit! Emotionally incoherent and distraught, speaking that Nicaraguan shit. She didn’t fight. As usual, her game was active. Bad bitch manipulation tactics. She was feeling herself. She seduced Oscar into whacking his wife and then himself.
He was a layover, she never loved him and she was relieved not to see him anymore.
She decided to head home, her secret sanctuary in Yellowstone. Eyeing a cowboy nigga! Seven figures, she loved his figure and his large male member. Mind like Hov. She was like “woah!” He was her goal. So, she took it slow. Was this the love that she was searching for? He gave her the game. Knowledge was power. Her master’s degree. His name was Tyler. He wanted to get her pregnant and make her comfy.
She wanted to take it slow, he was moving too fast. It was great while it lasted. But she had to slide. And she was truly convinced, she used to love him but he wasn’t the right guy.
She was insatiably addicted to love, like an elusive drug. Searching so desperately for that intoxicating high. Always on the go… A bad bitch’s hero!
She was practically every niggas dream. Intellectually mean. Stimulating conversation, a peculiar fascination with love. Intuitively trained to effortlessly switch lanes, Change clothes.
A smooth criminal – getting to the bag!
A smooth lover – stealing hearts!
A smooth operator – game tight!
Styling on a hater bitch with a Bearkin bag and a switch. Top bitch, gangsta shit!
Bentley speeding down the corridor, distinctive roar, Four – four. Heart breaking! Yet, still craving that elusive sensation. Who was her next love?
Bad Bitch Thug!