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iceberg slim (author) - durealla (part 2) lyrics

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and i went to the street to play
it was at the celebrity club i made my first big rub
with a game called “the j+panese fan”
i caught me a fool and took him real cool
for a roles and eight solid grand
he was a f+g, and so i had to sh+g
and dee didn’t dig the show, but she soon came at ease
when i showed the {?} and {?} out on the floor
“candy honey”, said she, “i’m glad you’re with me”
then said: “you were thoroughbred, but the truth of the thing, this was my only big sting. though, now and then i hit for light bread”
but my sl!ck chick knew every trick, and with her, the cash rolled in
we lived real hardy, life was a party with money, narcotics and gin
our pad was the best and we both stayed real pressed
the tricks would come and go
we stayed real high and kept ourselves fly
for an hustling, dee could always make dough
one night in bed: “candy honey”, she said, “money i got plenty of, so you needn’t give me rings, mink coats and such things. just give me the strength of your love”
now, this really wigged me ’cause i couldn’t quite see this fast hoe being romantically uptight
but i was in love too, so what could we do but treat each other right?
then, one night about one, we were out having fun in a club called the isle of joy
when we met dixie fare, multi millionaire and international playboy
“look, fellow”, said fare, “who’s that fine freak there wearing that lovely red dress? i’ll pay you a fee if you’ll introduce her to me”
and i did and durealla did the rest
that night in bed: “candy honey”, she said, “i know i can take dixie’s dough, but you have to lay for me real patiently down in sunny, old mexico. i don’t want you ’round when i take off this clown and snare him into my den and i’ll come back to you and always be true and we’ll never have to hustle again”
i took my clothes off the hook, took out my bank book and made love for the rest of the day
at nine, that night, i took off on my flight in a furious [?]
my stay wasn’t bad, i had a boss pad and there was plenty of fabulous hoes
i pulled common [probably a mexican term], who’s [another mexican term] and a cousin of mexican rose
although the climate was hot, there was plenty of pot and the tequila was dynamite!
i laid the cut, on karma’s big b+tt and kept her on her knees all night
then one day the mailman came that way, with a new york cable grand
“candy honey”, it stated, “i’m glad you have [?], for i really hit a [?]
i’m leaving today and i’m on my way arriving jet comet three
meet me at four. sorry, cannot say more…
love from your woman, d”
[?}, i pulled on my grey silk and downed me some ice cold wine
i bought a new york news that rocked me in the shoes, when i dug this bold headline: “mr. dixie fare, multi millionaire, international playboy committed suicide and died. he left all his game to a ms. du fontaine, who was slated to be his bride”
i fought to stay calm at a this atom bomb, but i grinned from ear to ear
i knew my luck had turned as soon as i learnt all those big bucks would soon be here
i lit a smoke and made a joke with the man who drove the cab
i hummed a tune and watched the moon as i calmly paid the tab
we got to the field and the game i [?] as i heard the loud speaker roar: “jet comet three went down at sea a hundred miles in shore
reports all state that the hand of fate has not left one alive”
the plane was [?] and when it exploded no one had a chance to survive
a young lady gasped as she breathed her last tale
“andy honey”, she sighed, “i have been his true b+tch who’d had made him rich”, then she coughed up some blood and died
but i’ll pull through like old down dudes do and go on playing the game
but i know from me that can never, never be another b+tch like durealla du fontaine



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