A Player's Prayer

Five

Fuck it up (fuck it up), stick it out (stick it out)
Throw it back (throw it back), for these racks (for these rack)
Poke it out (poke it out), stick it out (stick it out)
Throw it back (throw back), for these riches (grrt, bah)
She got a thing for niggas with money
She got a thing for niggas with money (uh, uh)
Poke it out (poke it out), stick it out (stick it out)
Throw it back (throw back)

Christian was laid back against the pillows, laughing as B stood over him making it clap to the music as he threw blue hundreds in the air in her direction. The bills rained all on the floor and the bed as he recorded her in her element.

"Happy birthday baby girl." He chuckled as she collapsed down on the bed, tired from all the dancing she was doing. It was twelve in the morning officially signaling her twenty third birthday. Scorpio season was officially starting now.

B touched back down in New York yesterday and it's been up since. Her friends and family happily spoiled her with all of her hearts desires. They all went out to dinner around eight the night before so hitting the club after was mandatory.

"Thank you baby." She smiled, laying on top of him as he pulled her into a tight hug. He kissed he side of her face before letting her up.

"The baddest in my city, word to my dead." He said, biting his bottom lip as B nodded in agreement.

"Yeah wake that up." She said as he laughed.

"Go get ready so we could go to your thing." Starlets was hosting her party tonight and everyone was waiting for her to show face. Not only was everyone celebrating her day, but they were celebrating her being back home. She yet had to see a lot of her friends and family.

"Leave the money on the dresser for me boo." He laughed at her comment as she headed to the bathroom.

An hour later B was showered, dressed, face beat and hair done. She had on a cream and dark brown custom mink fur coat, a vintage JPG dress, burgundy quilted Chanel boots with a burgundy Chanel bag to match. Her tape ins blended seamlessly with her natural hair, flowing forty inches down her back. Her face held a light beat, her go to makeup look. One of B's favorite things to do was get dressed. Her grandma instilled that in her from young, always showing up looking her best.

Pulling up to the strip club, B was in her element. Christian followed behind her with his pockets full of singles ready to throw. She was acting like a bird in front of the infamous Starlets backdrop, making Christian take her flicks real quick. The last time she was at Starlets was with a fake ID, her brothers grown ass friends buying her and Kia bottles in the spot. That's when shit was good. She was young having her way, enjoying life.

Bobby Shmurda and Rowdy Rebel's "Computers" played, livening the club as blue LED lights illuminated the floor. She made it to her section where all her friends and family were, just as excited to see her as she was to see them. The section was lit already, big ice buckets of top shelf liquor on the table, the hookah flowing and plastic bags with banded stacks of singles ready to be thrown. This shit was regular in her city.

"About time this girl pulled up." Her cousin Kelis said as she laughed. B was known to always be late to shit. She couldn't help it. If you wanted her to be on time you probably had to lie to her. Being locked up changed her a little though, used to that structure and order of having a set time and schedule for literally everything.