smoove like butta

The name's Fu-Fu and I got mad flows and I got techniques to get women out they clothes.

I'm bout it bout it yo.

I think the woman at the bank wants to take a ride on the ol' Fu-Fu Express. She's an older woman, and not very attractive, and she's got more gold in her mouth than Mr. T EVER had on his neck....but somehow I still get a big head when I think about how goddamn irresistible I am to her.

I find myself teasing her...like making sure part of my ass can always be seen by her no matter where I am in line. I like to think that she peeks up inbetween asking someone if they need any stamps and sees my luscious yet firm buttocks and starts to salivate uncontrollably causing her words to come out like "Shwould you shlike shlome shltamps with shthat?"...you know, from all the extra spit in her mouth.

Oh forget it.

Today while I was in there she grabbed my hand and said "Boy, why you got butter written on your finger?"

She was right. I do have butter written on my finger. I don't need any or anything. I just wrote it on my finger at work today out of boredom.

But I thought the truth was boring so I said "Cause I'm smooth like it," and then winked at her.

She blushed like a Japanese schoolgirl lost in thoughts of Michael Jackson's supposed Vitiligo and wondering if it affected his black American cock the same as the rest of his body.

Then I walked off, very subtly shaking my ass.

And I swear I heard her moan.

November 07, 2001 | 4:51 p.m.

last entry :: next entry