tappin vs tha prep

im for sure never gonna be jealous of a white guy in a fubu shirt thinking he fits the scrip, you might as well go hang with the little china man from how high while learning new moves from chedda bob *** ******. **** the free world! lol

 
part II

Staring at him out of the corner of my eye I choose not to acknowledge his handshake as my eyes move from his preppy face to his even preppier attire. Who does this guy think he is? Walkin around in his slim fit sweater over his button down shirt + his infinitely wet hair. guy thinks he's DiCaprio or somethin. He's not tho. Does he really think he's still tha best looking guy in here? Phuck this guy, for real.

"yea...cool" i say, passing right by him and taking tha empty seat next to Sommer.

Looking slightly flustered Brennen walks back to his seat and throws some cash on tha table. Popping his collar he looks at me and says, "what you drinkin bro?"

WTF, seriously who does this dude think he is? does he not kno i just benched 355 for 6 sets today? his hair hasn't moved an inch since i saw him. does this clown really think he's groomed better than tha best in breed? nobody challenges Tappin for tha throne. this miscreant thinks he's got a real shot tho, i can tell. scowling at him i can't help but envision my brass knucks pulverizing his cheek bones into dust. if this phuck crosses me one more time it's going down.

more coming....

 
....how much do you want.." he repeats, looking back at me while i continue to mean mug him.

snapping out of it i stand up from my seat and distractedly reply, "a thousand." tossing my money clip on the table i let him deal with the transaction as i make my way to the bathroom.

Shutting the door tightly behind me i carefully take off my under armour skull cap and place it in my TapOut drawstring bag. Pulling out Nick Chavez styling clay i ruffle up my hair and fashion it into a peaked side-crop. I'm so phuckin GQ right now. Can't nobody step to this! Not stopping there I hastily unzipping my L.A. Galaxy track jacket i leave only the skin tight Hurley tank top hugging my bulging pecs. Pumping some blood back into the teats i crank out some plyometric push ups and swell up like a smoked sausage. One final look in the mirror and i bust out the bathroom door, making my second entrance to the game.

can't say i'm surprised when all the heads turn again, even some of the phags are trying to hold back a smile, probably from the magnificent sight of it all. before i can regain my seat, Brennen is counting out my cheques when he gives me a confused look and says, "uhhh, dude we don't have $1,000 in chips..."

catching him giving the pecs a quick glance, i reply, "yea whatever brah, just gimmie what u got and i'll leave the rest on the table....cash plays...right?"

thinking it over for a minute he shruggs his shoulders and looks around the table for confirmation, "...yea sure, that's fine."

As he empties out the chip case I align my stack Jason Mercier style and leave the remaining Bennies chillin on top. These cats are so jelly of my stack. Tips tho, so typical i'm the only true alpha dawg in the room, don't even need to flaunt it rly. As the cards are dealt i wrap both arms around my massive stack and get ready for the game.

"yo brennen...you workout bro?" i say, glancing at him, then down to my biceps, then

 
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tappin_azz

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