In My Day

Paying For It

I love being single.  Man, when I was young and I’d hit da club the women would line up just to dance with me. I didn’t have to pay fo water. I mean, I had them eating out of my hands. Those were da dayz.

Paying For It

Now a youngin won’t even look at me. I find myself paying for everything; reasoning and making a deal for a sistah to spend time with a Brutha. WTF, I just can’t wrap my head around it. I’m a good dude and I have alot on my mind, too. I hate being single.

Paying for It

Back in the day they was all ova me. I neva had to pay for sex or at least not like regular people had to pay for it.  Hummm, In some ways we all have to pay for it, right?  Anyway, can you believe sweetie charged me $250 just to, well I think you get the picture? I told her who I be and she was like “So what grandpa”. These young kids I tell ya are so disrespectful.

Paying For It

Don’t judge me.  The young girls don’t holla at me like they use to.  Age and father time has creped up on me. Now I can’t hide the grey and I can’t shake that ole man smell either. If I can manage to gather up $50 I could have a good ole tyme smokin crack cause $50 won’t even get my dyck wet.

Paying for it

It was just yesterday when I was the ruler of the world and every woman’s dream. With money in my pocket I would get all the attention, until my funds run out. Thank God for credit cards and cash machines.  I wish they didn’t take away my cooperate card. I hate being retired.

Paying For It

I’m looking in the mirror and I find myself disgusting to look at.  Now I’m an old sorry good fo nothin ole phuck but I got good skin thou.

I’ve been placed on restricted status on FB.  Baby Girl doesn’t want to have to explain why I’m on her friends list.  Man when I do see honey I’m gonna pop 100mg of Viagra and put a hurtin on dat azz.  Just wait I got somethin fo ya.

Harlem,

Heaven is at the foot of Mother…

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