With the lick of her lips, the tip of her toes dropped twice the distance,
Cracking a smile, this bitch was full on, false resistance,
I calm the mood and strike the convo, now that we got time,
"Sorry bout the glass", she shrugs with a laugh "Fuckit, it's not mine."
As lights blaze in the rearview, She rips a corner with one hand,
Pulls a glock and holds it up, "I got a wing man"
|