Heck, my only love. And I know I should be focused on perfectin’ my dunks, ’n’ layups, ’n’ crossovers so I can get up in the NBA. And on some real ish, there really should be no time for chicks. But there always is. Even when I don’t want there to be, they’re in my face heavy on the regular, checkin’ for a dude like me. And, yeah, some’a them broads don’t even deserve to have me in their beds. I know it the minute they drop their clothes, that I ain’t got no business givin’ them a taste of this Lopez lovin’. But I do, anyway. And sometimes I end up kickin’ myself, like I’ve been doin’ wit’ Quanda over the last few weeks. And now this . . . “So, you wanna explain ya’self?” Pops says, eyein’ me mad hard. The minute I step through the door. There’s smoke comin’ outta his ears, that’s how heated he is right now. My stomach drops to my feet, along wit’ the spinnin’ ball I have up on one finger. This ain’t what I expected to see—Tiffany ’n’ her parents sittin’ on the sofa.
What do You think about The Girl Of His Dreams (2013)?
