always...Tyce had it under control. There was also no doubt in his mind that Tasha got into some crazy shit as soon as the door closed but he was used to that shit. He knew what type of bitch she was but her tight sex game is what had him hooked. As long as he didn't wake up with his dick leaking, he didn't give a fuck what she did. The shit that did bother him was how she tripped over Angelique so hard. Bitches will be bitches and always hate on each other but it was something else in the background of her reaction. Tasha's gaming ass had a problem with Angelique ‘cuz she was getting close to his homeboy. "Bitches aint shit," He proclaimed stopping at a light. He wasn't blind, he knew Tasha had an eye on Tyce but so the fuck what, so did every other bitch. What made him so easy about it was the fact that he knew his man would never fuck with her anyway. Tyce would never let pussy come between the two of them, plus Tasha wasn't his type of chick anyway. The spoiled, thick, pussy throwing bitches was more HIS speed and Tasha was sniffing up the wrong tree when it came to Tyce. Since they was little niggas running the streets he'd come to quietly admire the way Tyce dealt with women. Truth be told if he were more like his friend, his own life wouldn't be as dramatic. The green light glowed as he continued his personal therapy session. The “ Escalade” floated down the street like a cruise ship in a calm sea. The dark tint mingled with the black body making it impossible to peek in from outside. His was one of the thousands of “ Escalades” that jammed the streets of L.A. The only thing that separated his from the pack was the twenty thousand dollar rims and the plates that read 'I GET IT' those words had gotten him a lot of attention. He couldn't count the number of times bitches would ask "You get what?" "Whatever IT is" was his usual reply. That always led to a little more conversation and plenty of fucking. Omar knew the type of chick that responded to his plates was exactly the type of chick he was looking for. Shit, pussy was easy to get...just look like you getting money and pussy will be thrown at you like a pass from “ Mike Vick .” Shit all these bitches was on the hunt for a meal ticket. Don't let em find out you really is getting paper, ‘cuz that's when they really start trippin’! He could paint brush all women in that category as far as he was concerned...everyone except Angelique. She didn't need a nigga or his money but she wasn't stupid either. If a nigga was dumb enough to trick out then she was smart enough to treat herself. You couldn't be mad at her for that but in her case she was more than capable of taking care of herself and a nigga if she chose to do so. Shit Angelique was educated and fine. Rumor had it she was a silent partner in a few low-key sex clubs and she owned four semi trucks that she rented out to drivers who didn't have their own rigs. She definitely was a progressive bitch; Omar had to admit. As he pulled into the “ In n Out ” drive thru and waited in line he stared out the dark window and continued thinking. He and Tyce had been hustling together since they were 16 and running with him had definitely paid off. But following the rules of his no dope policy left a lot of money in the streets for other niggas to get. Biz was all too happy to get all the work they passed up ‘cuz he was basically getting free product to flip himself...that shit aint make no fucking sense to him! But Tyce wasn't trying to hear that shit, that nigga was so scared of being locked up it was ridiculous! "Welcome to “ In n Out” may I take your order please?" The speaker asked. At the same time, the phone in his lap started vibrating. Omar lowered the window and picked up the cell looking at the bright screen. "Hold on a minute baby." He told the speaker. "No problem sir, order when you're ready." Omar raised the window and hit the talk button. "What up my nigga?" "Aint nuthin’ what you