Dear Broke Ass Dude
June 8th, 2008 | By Sonnie
Dear Broke Ass Dude
I meet you in the club last week, and you had it going on. Your kicks were shining, your ear was blinging and you was buying drinks for everybody. I’m a cautious girl, so I sit back and watch.
As you pulled out your dough, I never saw or heard the jingle of car keys. That was the first sign. You had game and you spit it tight. Not tight enough for me but you got up in my girls ear.
I watched as a group of girls formed staring her down. They weren’t coming after her to fight for you, they were laughing knowing what she was getting into.
Your boy made it over to me. He wasn’t as flashy as you, and he didn’t run game. He liked to watch just like me. The waitress came over and asked if we wanted a drink. He offered me one but declined one for himself.
I knew the look on his face. I knew it was the beginning of the month and rent was due. I bought him a drink and let him pay for mine. You laugh, out loud, as if there is some shame in paying your bills on time.
Dear Broke Ass Dude
If you weren’t flashin that little bit of dough in your pocket my girl wouldn’t be on you. She run game like that. If you got pussy on the regular you wouldn’t be so pressed to show out. If you had an dignity you wouldn’t be leaving cause yo boy drove you here.
So one week later. I visit your boy. His house isn’t decorated like a PIMP, but he got a house in his name. He don’t drive an Escalade, but his car gets him were he needs to go. He doesn’t have a closet full of name brand clothes, but he looks damn good when he’s getting ready for work in the morning. Believe me I know.
My girl told me about you though. She had to come and pick you up from yo mama house. She said walking through the backyard to get to the basement was cute. She ghetto like that.
She told me you had every pair of Jordans’ that ever came out. She also found the envelope of money yo mama left you. Yeah, she left it, my girl got sticky fingers though.
She told me how your mama came home and broke up yall bump and grind. Church let out early and you forgot to cut the grass before everybody came over for dinner. She also told me how everyone in your family was asking for the money you owe.
Dear Broke Ass Dude
Realize nobody wants you. You cry that all women are foul, the truth is no real woman would fuck with you. She would rather struggle with a man, than have momentary spending splurges followed by the McDonald Dollar Menu.
So the next time that fly ass girl turns you down without even hearing you out, don’t call her a bitch. Realize it’s because your a Broke Ass Dude.
Posted in Dear Letters, Inspiration
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