Pimp The Story Of My Life Quotes

An emotional debt is hard to square.

Before I'd touch a square bitch's slit, I'd suck a thousand clappy pricks and swim through liquid shit, They got green puke between their rotten toes, And snot runs from their funky nose, I hope square bitches become syphilitic wrecks, I hope they fall through their own assholes and break their motherfucking necks.

Why did Justice really always wear a blindfold? I knew now. It was because the cunning bitch had dollar signs for eyeballs

Son, there is no reason except a stupid one for anybody to project on that screen anything that will worry him or dull that vital edge. After all, we are the absolute bosses of that whole theatre and show in our minds. We even write the script. So always write positive, dynamic scripts and show only the best movies for you on that screen whether you are pimp or priest.

Only a fool trips on what is behind them.

I smelled the stink that only a street whore has after a long, busy night.

No more small towns for me. I was going to the city to get my degree in pimping.

He was an old Drag man with his bit getting short. He was the first to attempt to teach me to control my emotions. He would say, “Always remember whether you be sucker or hustler in the world out there, you’ve got that vital edge if you can iron-clad your feelings. I picture the human mind as a movie screen. If you’re a dopey sucker, you’ll just sit and watch all kinds of mindwrecking, damn fool movies on that screen.” He said. “Son, there is no reason except a stupid one for anybody to project on that screen anything that will worry him or dull that vital edge. After all, we are the absolute bosses of that whole theatre and show in our minds. We even write the script. So always write positive, dynamic scripts and show only the best movies for you on that screen whether you are pimp or priest.” His rundown of his screen theory saved my sanity many years later. He was a twisted wise man and one day when he wasn’t looking, a movie flashed on the screen. The title was “Death For an Old Con.

He took the bait like a rapist in a nudist colony for the blind.

Slim, I hope you ain't sexed that pretty bitch yet. Believe me, Slim, a pimp is really a whore who's reversed the game on whores. Slim, be as sweet as the scratch. Don't be no sweeter. Always stick a whore for a bundle before you sex her. A whore ain't nothing but a trick to a pimp. Don't let em Georgia you. Always get your money in front just like a whore. Whores in a stable are like working chumps in the white man's factory..

The pimp game is like the watchmaker's art, it's tough. Party went through his life struggling to make a watch while wearing boxing gloves.

I spent most of my time floating on an inflatable raft in the pristine Mediterranean waters, my big belly curving toward the sun, reading (incongruously) The Autobiography of Malcolm X. It rocked me to my core. Malcolm’s story opened a window onto a reality I had ignored. But the greatest revelation the book brought me was the possibility of profound human transformation. I was spellbound by his journey from the doped-up, numbers-running, woman-beating, street-hustling, pimping Malcolm Little to a proud, clean, literate, Muslim Malcolm X who taught that all white people were the Devil incarnate—to his final, spiritual transformation in Mecca. There he met white people from all over the world who received him as a brother, and he realized that “white,” as he had been using the word, didn’t mean skin color as much as it meant attitudes and actions some whites held toward non-whites—but that not all whites were racist. At the time of his murder, he was anything but the hatemonger portrayed in the American press. Somehow, through the horrors that had been his life, he had become a spiritual leader. How had this been possible?

One of those arrogant repeaters went to the hole for having a sassy look in his eyes. The charge was ‛visual insubordination.

Iceberg Slim did for the pimp what Jean Genet did for the homosexual and thief and William Burroughs for the junky: articulate the thoughts and feelings of someone who had been there. The big difference is that they were white. Unlike them, and despite one Harvard study of Pimp as a ‘transgressive novel’, Slim was, and still is, marginalised as a writer. It’s ironic and indicative of the institutionalised racism of English-speaking society that someone whose influence on Western culture is now probably greater than any touted (white) writer of all postwar generations finds himself in this peculiar position. Literature, always the most culturally hegemonic art form, has basically shut Slim out, in a way the music industry tried (unsuccessfully) to do with black artists for years.

A wise old pimp gave him the three secrets to keeping women loyal and malleable. Charlie used these as the foundation of everything he did following his release from Terminal Island in March of 1967. The first was to use fear and intimidation, but that didn’t always work. The next was becoming the greatest lover in the girl’s life—satisfying her like no one else can. The final and most important was making the girl feel fully loved.

I was losing, page by page, the fine rules of thought and deed that I had learned in church, from Henry to the Boy Scout Troop in Rockford. I was sopping up the poison off the street like a sponge.

I had been bigger sucker than a square mark. All he loses is scratch. I had joined a club that suckered me behind bars fives times.

How about it, an Iceberg with a warm heart?