“It wasn’t a trick question. Why do you like crazy women?”
“Because I’m a passionate ass nigga and don’t play when it comes to the people I care about. If the woman I’m with plays behind me, that shit makes me feel like they ain’t for real.”
“And what if they aren’t that kind of woman?”
“Then they ain’t for me.” I shrugged. “Shit, even my fake wife be beating bitches up. You don’t think my real one needs to match that energy?”
“I beat up one bitch.”
“And we ain’t even been married a month,” I countered.
Myome giggled and I smirked at the sound.
My smile fell from my face when I heard the door open behind us. We both looked back and Charm waved at us as she walked inside.
“Good morning,” she sang.
“What’s up?” I gave her a quick nod then looked at my watch. “It’s six fifty-eight. Y’all girl gon’ make it?”
“She’ll make it,” Charm said. “Trust me. Retta is not going to miss the chance to get her vocals laid so she can be on this song.” Charm paused and yawned.
“You tired?”
“Not too tired to sing,” Charm countered.
“A’ight. Don’t come in this bitch playing around.”
“I won’t.
“Good.” I looked between her and Myome. “We still got a lot to lock in, so who wants to get started first?”
“Me,” Myome said immediately. “I’m already warmed up so I feel like I may still be in my zone.”
“Alright, cool. Get in.” I watched Myome climb up and pull her shorts down. “Ay”—I grabbed her wrist before she could get too far away from me—“Put that fucking ring on yo’ finger.”
Myome rolled her eyes but held her hand out. I grabbed her ring and slid it onto her finger. She lifted her hand by her faceand stuck her tongue out. She wiggled her fingers a little while she wagged her eyebrows at me.
“Go do that shit in the booth.” I nudged my head toward it and Myome giggled but headed inside. I plucked my phone up and tapped the speaker once she was inside with the headset on. “That wasn’t a joke,” I said. “Do that shit again.”
Myome lifted an eyebrow.
“For what?”
“Content,” I deadpanned.
Myome lifted her hand by her face and wiggled her fingers again. I snapped a single picture and uploaded it straight to my story. Chandler and Myome’s record label would love that shit.
“I just need you to lay your verse and come out, Yo. Don’t play around. We in and out.”
“I hear you.” She nodded once.
“You need me to count you in?”
“Nope.” She shook her head.
I nodded once myself then did some last minute changes to the instrumental before starting it.
Myome immediately bobbed to the music but stilled when it was actually time for her to come in, which I appreciated. I couldn’t stand a shaky ass recording. She laid her verse and I clapped at the end.