Blog Archives


Her name was Taji Nicole Day. She was Black and Asian, more specifically, Cherokee and Korean; and she was all up on Gymel that night at Felicia’s. B and Gymel had shot down to Savannah for the weekend with Duvanni for the St. Patrick’s Day Festival, and to handle some “business”. Really, everybody thought they were headed to Orlando to link up with some RocNation A&R’s, which in all honesty they were supposed to. But on the way down, D-Freeze, their homeboy in FLA who set the whole thing up, called and said they had to reschedule. ” Dang son, we’re already on 16, headed that way,” G was saying. What were they gonna do now? ” Yo, somebody roll up, i need to think..” As they flew down the thorough, Duvanni grabbed the Dutchs and commenced to getting the bleez proper. B was driving, and as the pungent aroma of Sensi filled the air, everybody started to relax a little bit more. Honestly, they were going OT on business, and nobody had been able to enjoy a vacation in almost 2 years. The label was starting to take off, and all three had major responsibilities so as to ensure everything went smoothly. If they weren’t in the studio, mixing and recording, they were in meetings with label execs and promoters. A vacation would be nice, even a brief one. Gymel passed the dutch to GS, choking like crazy. ” Daaamn!!!! My dude always comes through wit’ that stupid!” They all laughed, talking shit to each other, just cooling. B put on the Army of Two mixtape they had just finished, and the vibe went to straight CEO mode. The wheels were turning ” as the sensimilla burned” Gymel was saying on track one. That’s when they all seemed to have the same idea at the same time; which is why they were so tight. ” Ya’ll just wanna hit Savannah? We’re already down here..might as well..let’s see what kind of trouble we can get into..” Duvanni looked and G, and G looked at B. ” Let’s go!!!”

An hour later, they were there. Duvanni had called one of his home-girls, and let her know that they were coming through for the weekend, and it just made sense to kick it there instead getting a room. As always, she was cool with it. when they pulled up to her spot, which was nestled not to far from the Port of Savannah, it was poppin’. Bentleys, Lambo’s, Ranges..they were everywhere. Thank goodness they’d decided to whip the 600! Duvanni’s home-girl’s name was Felicia, and she owned an import/export company, so she rubbed elbows with all of the Social Elite of Chatham County. She welcomed the squad in, and immediately showed them to the party; but they were so blazed, that just wasn’t what they wanted to do at the moment. G had the Macbook, mic, and everything needed for a quick session, so they went upstairs. On the way up, Taji was coming down, in a mean pair of Blahniks and a Vera Wang mini that turned everybody’s head, but her eye only fell on Gymel, and she smiled as they passed each other. ” God she smelled sooo good!..” he thought to himself. Little did he know that later on that night, her scent would be ALL over him. The trio reached the top floor, found a spot secluded from the noise, and set up for a quick session.
Session out of the way, and feeling more relaxed, Gymel decided to go downstairs and hit up the bar. A Ciroc and Cranberry sounded nice right about now. As he walked up to the bar, which was floating in the middle of the living room ( sick) he caught a familiar scent. It seemed to be wrapping itself around his whole being, travelling through his nose and straight to his brain. It was INTOXICATING….he had to find the owner; he looked around and saw her sitting on a chaise by the pool, killing the game with with the pose she was striking. Damn. That’s all he could think..Or was he thinking at all? He didn’t even KNOW this girl, and he was wide open…straight lunchbox! He walked over to shorty, and began to introduce himself. ” Hi, my name is-..” Gymel Smythe, I know, ” she said; finishing his sentence. How did she know who he was?? ” I was in Atlanta last week when ya’ll performed at that spot off of Peachtree.” For the life of him he couldn’t remember at the moment. Shorty was BAD. About 5’5″, Cherokee and Korean, and honestly Niki Minaj had nothing on her. She ordered him a drink, and they walked through the slowly dissipating crowd to the deck, which overlooked the river; it was beautiful. They talked for what only seemed like a few minutes, not noticing everybody had left, so it must’ve been for some hours ( Ciroc and Cranberry!). Taji ( which is what she said her name was, finally ) ended up in his arms somehow, and staring into his intense brown eyes with her even more intense grey ones. She had the kid stuck. All Gymel remembered was her saying ” Come with me…” and they left in her Ferrari 550. He didn’t wonder what a girl like this was doing driving a 550, but he didn’t have to think about that; because at every light they stopped at, she was damn near out of her seat and in his lap, lighting fire to his body everywhere she touched him. ” Oh man..” he was gone…..By the time they reached her penthouse, they were already half undressed in the elevator. Gymel couldn’t think, his whole thought process was consumed with lust for Taji, as if she had a fire burning and she needed HIM to put it out. And that he would, they didn’t call him M.G.D. for nothing; no complaints over this way. And Taj was a beast. She was all over him, DEVOURING him, awakening feelings that no other female had ever awakened…It’s like, they were supposed to be here, driving each other out of control..her mouth was on his…his mouth was on her…And, well ya’ll get the picture. Let’s just say that at least one place in Savannah caught fire that night, and it was the top floor over looking the city, in a seriously laid penthouse. They went at it for hours, and when they did pause it was only to roll up, burn a little, and get right back to it.The neighbors got no sleep that. Mmm,Taji…..

” Role Reversal”——–#GymelSmythe