By the look of your wrist,
I can tell you can't hear my biological clock.
See, I'm hungry. Got this pure satiation for the mere implication
to walk down that aisle and give off a smirk to those un-wed bitches
to the pimps that drove them wild. shit, as I can recall-nothing is for free.
you lubed my udders and now you want to milk by caressing me?
talk is cheap. I need you to do that Beyonce remix
put a ring on it and let me see that last name entitlement which I crave so
Shit. You move too slow. Molasses In your ass and
got the wit of Elmer Fudd & Mr. Magoo thinking that I give up the
vah-jay-jay for free and then want to chill on my couch and pucker up
running up my damn electricity. Don't you know that I got hoes
in different area codes, niggas that want to have just a whiff of this
just to smell the pure delicateness of the booming inner thighs that
have those childbearing hips and once again, I come to my
biological clock that you don't watch as it goes tick….
tock. you gotta love that clock. I looked up and years have passed. What my
grandmother calls wasted years and wasted tears that don't really say what was so
unclear as to why you are scared of holy matrimony, petrified of any words that start with "m"
and declare that you'd rather just be lonely. You must don't know…I'm husband hungry.
I need that white dress. Be that Godzilla with a relationship always on the test
because no foundation lied unless you refer to bricks that my man puts down
because baby, he throws the pipe. You must don't know. I already got my reception picked out
location, time and theme-and damn sure gonna demand ever single present on my
Macy's registry. You must don't know. I don't care about a relationship,
I want that 10 year deal; the kind where I can get massive benefits and then kick
your ass to the curb with the quickness. You must don't understand-
I'm husband hungry. See…all of my girls' bragging with their 2 carats raised in the air
I want to be part of that club-preferably with a near millionaire
and if he tries to pull out that pre-nuptial shit make sure that I whip out
deep throated sexual thickness that I know will lay down that pen to fix it.
I am the one. The husband hungry one. My desire lies in two weeks of dating
One night of fucking and one day followed by morning breakfast. You better get with it.
You move to slow. I just want to walk down the aisle in all white…
Hmmm….If I'm married, I can't be that hoe.