Hot to Trot
When a brotha calls by my bordello, hot to fockin’ trot, he does so for one simple reason: My bitches be the best motha fockin’ bitches in all Arcadia, yo.
Ya see… When a girl volunteers herself to become part o’ my Poon Tang Clan, she can expect her sweet ass to be put through the paces.
She be requirin’ Big Slim’s own personal stamp of approval to guarantee she be the real fockin’ deal, ya feel?
Heh heh heh.
I remember this one occasion when I took on eleven bitches all at the same time.
First up was this sweet lil’ thing called Candy. Now don’t get me wrong – she sure as hell looked like butter wouldn’t melt – but oleo be the last thing that bitch wanted to put in her fockin’ mouth. Hell no… When she puckered an’ parted her lips, she looked me straight in the eye an’ told me drop it down her like a motha fockin’ gobstopper.
Next up was Jackie; an innocent virgin who liked to play by the rules. Unlike the rest o’ the girls, all Jackie wanted was to remain monogamous by devotin’ her life to the same fockin’ man… Five minutes with Mack Daddy later an’ her unspoiled ass soon got put straight on that front, ya feel?
Third in line was this narcissistic bitch who was constantly takin’ selfies of us in action. She wasn’t there to get her ass hired; all she wanted was enough photographs to sell to the highest fockin’ bidder once she got out o’ there. Trust me when I say the only thing I smashed harder than dat bitch was her motha fockin’ camera.
Next to take a ride was a broad with a sick fockin’ fetish. As she laid me down on my back, she told me to act dead while she serenaded me with songs about all the ex-boyfriends she’d loved an’ lost. I got the impression wit’ that bitch that she rather be pushin’ up daises than pushin’ her ass into me, so guess what? I showed her the motha fockin’ door as quickly as she came in.
The girls kept on coming. Bitches who liked playin’ the victim; who wanted to feel every ounce o’ pain an’ sufferin’ I could exact on their subservient asses. One girl even bought her toys to the party… A couple o’ sex dolls which she took great pleasure gettin’ off on by pretendin’ that shit was real.
Despite all that, a nigga did what a nigga had to do, an’ once I emptied out in the last of ‘em – I looked down at the mountain of bitches I’d conquered, dawg.
Multiple fockin’ broads, one fockin Drexl, an’ come Monday night – history is gon’ repeat its bad self.
Not for the first time, I’ll get down an’ dirty with eleven bitches an’ show them who’s fockin’ boss.
There’s gon’ be nothin’ sweet, nothin’ innocent, nothin’ kinky about it – no fockin’ sir.
The next time a brotha calls at my bordello, hot to fockin’ trot, he best be askin’ for the Champ for one simple reason, yo…
Olympus ain’ gonna be no white boy day.