i couldn't drop dimes

here i am, great kat of cats, back in the same boat of always and never. really, i don't mind it so much. i do feel, though, that i was dropped off on front street. at first, i stood around and stomped and made a fuss. now, i've started walking and i don't mind front street tomorrow. i'm nobody's girl. and he's nobody's boy. so, in one way or another, we're in the same boat. yeah, yeah i know i really need to stop, sort of putting myself out on that ledge, but it ain't no thang. i can't say i wouldn't be like, "damn....thas fucked up," if he just reads and doesn't write back - what can you do, honestly? not a damn thing. it's such a shame when you're a good doll and the bad hoods take a mild advantage over your head. can't stop won't stop. and, on a sidenote, not so serious - he stopped breathing for about 5. so i don't want to hear about it. and, secondly, i wasn't even there for that in the first place. free brew, what up? so when he was practically in the clutches out in his own hallway while his mates raged on above and below - completely ignoring him - i could drop dimes. i can't help it if i'm so good. so so good. i don't want to hear his shit sometimes. anyways, last night was fun, it was hilarious and i'm sure something of the likes is already in the works. i won't worry about it. i'll stop runnin' my yap now. another day another dollar let's get faded on the bottle and forget about tomorrow. 'cept in my case i need to remember tomorrow because it's friday and right is tight on fridays. moral is; i'm no longer the trick, i'm the tricker. if anything, i'm kat.