I'm gonna tell you a little story
When this little story's through
There's gonna be a little test
See if you know what's good for you

She was an angel of the 4th Ward
When I plucked her off the street
So tenderly I took her indoors
Bought her some tits and fixed her teeth

You should've seen her crunch a number
Work a sucker, shoot a breeze
She started off on the club floor
Soon enough she had the keys

She was a punch I couldn't counter
Sometimes I was tempted to applause
Just being around her
Felt like I picked the pocket of god

Could not believe I'd found her
Was like I picked the pocket of god

Then some tweak, some kinda heat wave
He backed my distribution up
Parcels of Tardust and White Nurse
Stacked in the back room of the club
My boys could not extract her thinking
She knew there's cameras everywhere
Maybe she was fresh outta thinking
Maybe she thought I couldn't care

Never gave me reason to doubt her
There was her face and her facade
Smilin' over them packages of powder
Like she picked the pocket of god

She couldn't look prouder
Oh, she picked the pocket of god

I found out she had a partner
He's still around here somewhere
But now he's working for me
His was just business
I took her personally

That's the dead end of that story
Could be the end of yours, too
This was a woman I admired
You're just shit-for-brains-for-hire
Before I scrape you off my shoe

Know that I only asked her once
Now that I've asked you nice
Go on ask yourself
Do I strike you as the kind to ask twice?