Haters (I'm On To You)

I got floss stuck in my teeth.What the hell am I supposed to do? I'm all out of options.

Beyond that, I'm sick and tired of player haters. Not as in people who can't stand unfiltered British cigarettes; those things are nasty. I'm talking about the fellas that get insecure when you talk to their lady. Or worse, despise an individual for possession of game.

A. She's not "your woman." No matter how married or engaged you might be. Every person is qualified to make their own decisions. Slavery is illegal, pal.

A great rapper once said, "Fiance/ is just a fancy way to say/ a dumb ass fella getting played."

B. Step up your own game. If you are worried about a little lady giving a fella like me attention, quit it. Why am I more interesting than her? Duh! You've been player hating!

Women occupy 51% of the earth's human population. We have pretty good odds, simply because most men have little to no game whatsoever.

There are few rules to "The Game of Life." Beyond purchasing fire insurance, the strategy is basic.

Of course, I'm more of a Monopoly Man myself. Rich bald headed cracker making off with a bag of loot. Your loot. That's me. That's my style, playboy.

Next time you are bopping your head to sleazy R&B or some LL Cool J, don't forget that true N-Words like me exist. We are the life-giving blood of society. We are the milkmen delivering nutrition and semen to the housewives of America. If you have a problem with this, take it up with my A&R.

Your pal,
Jesus Pescado

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