baggy jeans, a wife beater and sneaks, with a fitted.
that is my weakness.
when i see a man like that, my legs get weak and my pussy get's wet... real fast.
now don't get me wrong. i love the good men, the men that every women wants, a nice clean cut brotha, who smells like cologne and not like the streets.
but a thug.
i tell myself that i passed that stage of my life a long time ago. when i was with prince a, who had guns, smoked weed like he breathed air, ran with the crips, and beat up my pussy on a reg. and i do mean beat up. i passed that stage. i didn't want bad boys anymore. he broke my heart.
but there are days when i wake up, longing for a thug beside me smelling like sex, alcohol and a hard life. wanting him to roll up behind me and wrap me in his tatted up arms, sweat beginning to form on his tatted up chest as he whispers into my thighs, with that sexy growl thugs seem to have ' i want to fuck you '
as eve says
i only take em thugged out/slighty bugged out/fuck with his tongue out/know the job ain't gettin done/till the body's gettin drug out/hot boy/keep me right/play your part/i'll keep it tight/where else you gonna be in the middle of night/but up in the sheets with me iight/gangsta/ true to your gang/street master/you the one i need when there's beef street blaster/aint afraid to stop a cat/plus pop a cat/soldier. cash. money. rule your world/what's topping that/ s-430 keep me on my toes/get a tingle in my spine/my spot only he knows.... (that was completely from memory).
when those moments of intense longing for a rough arm creep up on me, i play this song, smile at the next thug i see, contemplate giving him my number, and i sashay away, because i remember i passed that stage in my life a long time ago.
Missy Elliot feat. Nas & Eve - Hot boys