Hey homey, I ain’t got no real tattoo on me. Lemme give you the 4-1-1 on dat:

1. Ain’t no gangsta
2. Ain’t no sailor
3. Ain’t no part of the tattooed generation
4. Already gots a buncha funky looking marks on my skin and getting more all the time
5. Already gots sag on my skin and don’t need no magic marker looking thingy to point it out more

But when my homegirl suggested a tattoo for my Motherguilt logo, I was all like, “Yo my playah, that’d be tight.”

I didn’t want nothing whack for my logo. Not no girly girl colors, or ponies or butterflies. Because motherhood is tough, ya know? Tattoo tough. It’s permanent. It don’t wash off. Sometimes you get stabbed in the heart and you bleed but you survive, Sista Girl, you survive.

So my homegirl came up with this logo and now I’m thinking how fly this would look tattooed across my saddlebags. It would peak out over my jeans whenever I bend over, instead of my granny panties.

Hollah back, ya’ll.