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Gold diggers

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Gold diggers

A man who has money is beauty for women just like how men look for beauty in women. Granted you wouldn’t marry a woman for her beauty but it sure helps. Money is attractive, money is intoxicating, it has the promise of fulfilling all your dreams. Visions of not having to struggle anymore, gracing balls wearing designer clothes burdened with sparkling diamonds that hang on your neck and wrists, driven in luxury and escorted by royalty. Which girl wouldn’t want to be Cinderella for a lifetime? This time the magic doesn’t dissipate, the clock keeps ticking, the fairy godmother on speed dial and the glass shoes keep on multiplying. Living in Mansions, walking on marble, oversighted by crystal chandeliers, swimming in heated pools and served by foreign butlers. There enters the Gold digger, the manifestation of every man’s fantasy. She represents a tunnel in the repressed subconscious mind. She fulfills you in every way you desire. She subjegates herself to you, granting you power. She soothes and fills what’s lacking in your life. She is your escape in a world were routine triumphs. She is exciting, new and forbidden, uses her body to make you yield into the temptation of her bosom. You can squeeze if you want to, that’s the whole point. She’s yours for a price. The esteem and prestige of being your wife, but no prenups. Also, she wants to be included in your will, a stake in the inheritance fund and half of everything you own and oh, she’ll get it all. Her cunning intelligence guarantees it. You are her gold mine and she’s not letting go. Unlike the typical woman who operates with the right hemisphere of her brain, she is a blend of both hemispheres, she is both feminine and masculine. She is not just a woman whose emotional and acts on her feelings, she thinks, she plans, uses reason and logic, she has drive, she is ambitious! You are the route to her Gucci and Louis Vuitton bags, bespoke designer clothes, red bottoms heels and summer vacations in Monaco.

It was difficult to defend against the Blitzkrieg attack because it enveloped the enemy and crushed it with great speed. It gave you no time to think, no space to move, you were crushed by the weight of the attack. The perfect gold digger is akin to a blitzkrieg attack. You’ll never see it coming, she will crush you and dispose of you faster than the speed of light. Great gold diggers will seduce you, play to the repressed qualities of your being, ascentuate their body features, lower the pitch of their voices, play the demsel in distress, regress to a childlike persona, dominate through passivity to sink their claws in, marry you for your money and then divorce you. They are the definition of deception and smokescreens, they disappear like an illusion, like a dream, like it never happened. After you it’s on to the next one. You have to admire gold diggers because they are ambitious, they are driven, they have will, they want a good life and you are a means to an end. Gold diggers have balls, what makes them great is their ability to tap into their masculine sides while maintaining their femininity. That ambition will get you everything in life. I would love to be a Hugh Hefner, a magnet for gold diggers. To be surrounded by young, hot, beautiful women and have the relationships be platonic and transactional, using my pool and walking around the house in nothing but their birthday suits, oh Hugh cracked the code, the Playboy Mansion is heaven!

Cheaters

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Cheaters

Women cheat, men cheat, its human nature no one is perfect. Men cheat a lot but women are better cheaters. Women play the game better, they think long-term. Men just want to fuck. It’s not even a contest, your lady can break you down. She can cause permanent damage to your psyche, she can flip the switch to end your life. You don’t want to know who’s dick she’s sucked. And when she cheats, you won’t know a thing. Bet money now, you’ll get the biggest shock of your life! This is because female nature is more cunning in nature. It’s more chaotic and creative. The masculine brain is more leftist and derives it meaning from reason and rationality. The masculine brain wants to instill order while the feminine brain just doesn’t give a fuck, it wants to see everything burn! Nothing and no one is out of bound. Its difficult to catch your lady in the act of cheating because usually everything is so premeditated, so precise, there is so much detail, so much care, the deceptions, the story has had time to grow, ties that used to be platonic are metastasizing into something more. To go through with the process of cheating they need to feel secure, so most likely they will level up from the relationship they are currently in. It’s not uncommon for them to level down because sometimes the nigga with a bus pass has better dick game, but that’s for short-term results, they usually level up. They will be in stealth mode and wait for you to fuck up, they will even bait you to it and when you trip, leave your tired ass. Men on the other hand get caught cheating 9 out of 10 times. Men don’t invest as much as women in keeping infidelity a secret. The bare minimum will suffice and if they are caught well “I am sorry, I’ll never do it again” but that’s really just bullshit because men cavet everything. Everything is emotions with ladies so when she cheats it’s a double dagger to your spirit because she stopped investing in the relationship emotionally and started an entirely new portfolio with someone else. It means she stopped loving you, she stopped respecting you. If she stops respecting you then it’s over. It’s not redeemable like a voucher. Women can move on much faster because they stopped investing in you emotionally for quite some time and it might come across as cold and sudden but oh, it’s not, she has been stacking up your fuck ups for months and years. Women hold grudges and they remember everything. It’s useful for when they want to get back at you! Men on the other hand just want some pussy, it’s not deep, just some short-term gratification, it won’t hurt anybody, no one will ever know. More body counts doesn’t mean I love my lady less, just means I was hungry, I wanted some pussy. Let’s be real, men were never made to settle with one partner, that’s not how evolution works. If that were the case, our species would be in trouble. Men with strong genes have to take the lead, they get preferential treatment, if it means mating with more suitors then so be it. Strong genes signal vitality, health and life. It’s simply nature, has been that way from the beginning of time. There’s also the case that women outnumber men by 5 to 1. God is not an idiot. Women domesticate men for survival, it’s hardwired into their brains, we can understand that but it’s a projection and an attempt at control and is not really natural for men. When you really think about it, marriage is a fancy word for domestication. A man must sow his seeds and so he is bound to fuck up, it’s hardwired into his brain, it’s in his genes, his just gotta get variety on that pussy. When a woman cheats on the other hand that’s blasphemous! There is no coming back for a woman who cheats but “I can change” for a man who does, it’s expected, it’s his nature. Double standards I know but we are not hardwired the same. Women and men are not the same not even a sex change can alter that. Intent matters, we cheat to satisfy different things. Love and sex can be separated for men while love is a byproduct of sex for women. Cheating for men is hardly malicious, cold and calculated but it usually is for women. A woman will fuck your cousin to get back at you, now family gatherings are ruined forever. I know times have changed and women are more liberated with their bodies but have you ever been with a woman with a high body count? The intimacy, the connection, the warmth, her love, it’s all wrong, it’s not the same. She’s cold, distant, out of sync, avoidant and probably damaged. You can’t build something of substance with someone like that, she’s not interested in building anything. Where is her value? Where is her feminine essence? Body count matters especially for women, for men it’s just sex. Women can’t be in the casual sex game for the long haul whereas men can test drive different generations.

The Ultimatum

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The Ultimatum

When everyone knows you’re a writer, the stories come to you. On the weekend, I decided to see a couple of friends I hadn’t seen in a while. A friend was hosting an event and he invited me. I was excited and the event was a success. It was youthful, vibey and very summer. All I could see was girls in shorts and mini skirts. The place was illuminated by yellow thighs and you needed shades to let in the proper light in your retinas. The speakers were blasting Piano, of course and you could hear that lock drum and bass beating to the soul of the universe. There was happiness and it was contagious radiating throughout the room and manifesting itself on the dance floor. Tables were filled with bottles and hookahs connected to pipes emitting smoke that bubbled like a chimney from lungs that breathed out vitality and Joy. Oh, it was great. I drank alcohol and I smoked weed, I was hunk. A friend got into an altercation and the whole situation nearly spiraled out off control but luckily I managed to diffuse the situation. I can’t take all the credit, I am lucky he wasn’t a hot head, he chose peace. I merely told my nigga, “relax, his a fool let him take his petty win. Let’s focus on the girls we have here tonight”. He smiled and put his ego aside, calmed down, left the scene and let the fool be. Unfortunately, his girlfriend heard our conversation and she wasn’t happy with my proposed plan of “focusing on the girls here tonight” but she played it cool and intercepted my plan of action by keeping his man on lock for the whole night. For the whole night I couldn’t get to my nigga, she had her claws in deep. If I persisted she would give me this ice cold stare that you would get from a cobra with its hood raised up and I would cower because I knew her strike was venomous. I knew she had won, my nigga called me to the side and told me the plan was compromised and I shouldn’t protest that I must enjoy the night. So I did, I made a couple of connections and got a couple of numbers. A window of opportunity presented itself and the nigga came up to me and I was chilling with hot honeys, he was being courteous and wanted an introduction and so I obliged him. His girlfriend looking from afar catched feelings and gave him an ultimatum when he returned to her. It was between me and her. My nigga chose her and it’s no hard feelings. I understand, vagina always wins. I can’t compete with pussy. I would probably do the same thing. He took her home. We are fine, we still good friends and I ended up having a great night, if that’s too cryptic, I didn’t sleep alone.

Pussy whipped

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Pussy whipped

He’s pussy whipped, the claws of her vagina reeled him in like a fisherman and now he’s dangling on a string gasping for air, castrated and flat lacking a pair. He’s pussy whipped, a woman pleaser, always on her side but never gets to please her. Yet the woman is a rental and every man gets to lease her. He’s pussy whipped, on his knees begging for the cookie. Buying the whole shop but he ain’t never sample the pussy. She be controlling him like Lucy, using all her mental capacity to keep him in the deep sea, like we look good in this picture boo, see. He’s pussy whipped, respect and dignity evaporated like steam. She’s his biggest achievement, he’s retired, he never gets the cream. It’s a nightmare, it’s hard not to scream. Gave up his life and forgot about his dreams. He’s pussy whipped, worse is that she don’t respect him. Pitched me her pussy to make him the fool. Tore that shit apart cause I am so cool. Licked the plate clean and got rid of the drool. He’s pussy whipped, emasculated and mute. Has his clothes picked out, he’s a baby his cute. Never astute, follows the skirt like he doesn’t have a choice. Docile and obedient cause he doesn’t have a voice. He’s pussy whipped, without the pussy, he’s a simp! My nigga, get money, get pussy be a Pimp!

POWER

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POWER

In our modern world the word power seems to make people uncomfortable, it has negative connotations of greed, evil and corruption. It is undesirable and dirty and no one seems to want to admit to the world that they want power. We like to convince people and ourselves that we are saintly and good individuals who care for the well-being of others. We imagine that we are pure and we would never hurt or kill another person in cold blood, that it is always the other person who is the aggressor and not us. We deceive ourselves and repress this urge for power relegating it into the shadows. The truth is that everybody wants power. The world is one big power struggle, the clash of egos combating to be the alpha. Dominance, it keeps our blood boiling and we hunger for it like a starved prisoner. Standing over your body makes me feel good. I yearn to make you submit to my will and my point of view. Power is everything, it is control and persuasion. It sucks to not be able to persuade anybody, it makes you feel weak and not in control of the situation. You feel like a bystander, a passenger moving along with the wind blowing you away in every direction. It makes you feel like a victim of life. Power puts you in control, you become a creator, a God. A God, that’s what everybody secretly yearns to be. To have undisputed power and influence over everything and everyone. In pursuit of this untold power, life creates a Hitler and a Stalin. Because If God is a fabrication of the mind created to derive meaning in an absurd world then maybe I can fill that gap, I can be God and control peoples perception of reality. He won’t intervene because his not real, I am God now and I will prove it by starting Wars and conquering other nations. All is power and that’s the motivation for serial killers, to kill, plain and simple. Jeffery Dahmer murdered people for the power it gave him, it gave him a rush, it was intoxicating, he felt powerful knowing he separated your spirit from your body. He kept souvenirs, his victims skulls, skeletons and took pictures of the severed body parts to remind himself of the power he had over you. It was the same with Charles Manson, he had the power of persuasion, he recruited young girls to his cult and convinced them to commit horrendous crimes. If I live in your mind, I can convince you to slit somebody’s throat from ear to ear and that’s what Manson had, permanent residence in these girls minds, they revered him, going so far as calling him Jesus. Power is possession, it is psychological, it is forceful, it is desirable. If I have power over you, I can do whatever I like. The denial of the desirability of power leads to slavery because the shadow has taken control of you, your undesirable impulses and urges needs an outlet and so you disregard my right to life as a human being to justify your repressions, so you humiliate me, break me down, vilify me to feed the beast that has taken control of you. You don’t even feel bad about it because you are a good church going Christian who believes in community and doing the right thing.

Power, you have to be aware of the laws to get to the pinnacle. The victims of Jeffery Dahmer had one thing in common – they took the free lunch. Maybe Dahmer was charming and charismatic, it would certainly explain how he lured them to his place, but if someone offers you a big paycheck for something menial then that’s a red flag because they are after your soul. That’s how Harvey Weinstein comes into the picture. “Suck my dick and you will get the part. Come on, every young actress sucked dick to get to the top”. You suck his dick and there’s no coming back, his got power over you. He lives in your head rent-free. Worse is that you need this, you a nobody and his a Billionaire who controls Hollywood. What you gonna do? It’s easy to despise the free lunch when you are not hungry. If you depend upon your own arms, you stay hungry for a while maybe for a long time but you have your power and it accumulates. Who knows, maybe in a couple of years you become a big player in the game. Power, you need to delay gratification to attain it. Sucking executives dicks will only make you a pawn. Elizabeth Holmes played the game of power beautifully. She was charismatic and magnetic. Used theatricalies and fed peoples need to believe. She modeled herself after her hero Steve Jobs by embodying his spirit. She wore the type of clothes Steve Jobs wore, copied his mannerisms and how he used to present his products to the world. Investors thought that she was the next Steve Jobs, they saw Steve Jobs reincarnated. They gave her millions for her company. They fell in love with her. She graced the covers of top magazines like Forbes and Fortune. She was labeled a genius and an innovator despite the fact that she hadn’t produced anything revolutionary. Everyone mistook appearances for reality. Her company Theranos was a hoax. She deceived everyone to get to the very top, meeting world leaders and presidents in the process.

Like on The Godfather, power like war is deception, never let anyone know what you are thinking and you hold all the cards. That’s where Santino Corleone got it wrong, by revealing what he thought he compromised the family, he showed Sollozzo that the Corleone family were not united in the decision to not operate in the  narcotics business and Barzini took advantage. Power is double standards and smoke screens and Barzini played the game beautifully by keeping his hands clean and getting Sollozzo and Tattaglia to do the job for him while he sat on the sidelines and pulled the strings. Santinos mistake nearly cost the family everything, it was through the grace of God that Don Vito Corleone survived that hit. Power is getting people to play the cards that you deal. Power is cunning and deceitful. Power is concealing your intentions, like Heyman Roth pretending to be an alliance for Micheal Corloene while at the same time plotting his death. Power is crushing your enemy totally like when Michael Corloene assassinated the heads of the five criminal bosses all at once to cement his power at the helm. Power is power, it deserves its negative connotations.

Dahmer

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Dahmer

Monsters lurk everywhere in the world and it’s hard to spot them. They have learned to camouflage themselves in the darkness, it engulfs and consumes them, blackening their souls turning them into shadows. Analytical Psychologist Carl Jung explains that human beings carry within themselves both elements of the good and bad, that we are both angels and demons, sick, demented, evil, dark, spoiled. Because we live in a world where we have to co-exist to survive, we surpress these undesirable qualities relegating them into the shadows. Unchecked the shadow can grow to consume our personality and rule our subconscious minds enabling us to act unconsciously. Our shadows can turn us into psychopaths who lack empathy and thrive on destruction. The shadow can enable the individual to be narcissistic, egoistic and maniacal. Shedding a light on our dark sides helps in controlling the shadow. Acknowledging you have a dark side keeps the shadow at bay. Life is a balance of both the good and bad, of the light and the darkness. We are both polar extremes of the same spectrum. You are a killer and a murderer, human nature says you are. You might find pleasure in murdering your brother in cold blood. Cain certainly did when he murdered his brother Able to spite God. The murder was premeditated, he felt no remorse, the action liberated him. I know I am bad, I am capable of savagery and genocide. I may even take pleasure in torturing and tormenting you to appease my dark side. Your suffering might even give me comfort. Am I another Jeffrey Dahmer? Would I drug you, strangle you to death, masterbate over your body, have sex with your unconscious body, dissect and sever your body parts, skin the flesh from your bones, cook and eat your body parts for dinner? The capacity for evil in a human being is unfathomable. Maybe I am not familiar with my own darkness. I don’t know what I might do to you in the right circumstances. The story of Jeffrey Dahmer haunts me because he did it time and time again. A serial killer with a death toll of 17. No one was safe, from boys aged 14 to adults aged 33. He butchered his victims, cut off their limbs, drilled holes in their skulls and injected hydrochloric acid, severed their heads and preserved them in the refrigerator, inserted the bones in the oven to burn them and then crushed them with his sledgehammer, he cut his victims into pieces and then boiled them, he cooked his victims and he ate them, he ate them! He used acid and other chemicals to burn the skin of his victims skulls to preserve them. He bleached the skulls and if they were too weak he pulverized them, some he kept and used when he was masterbating. He felt no remorse, it was a compulsion for him, he was conscious of his actions, he knew what he was doing, he wasn’t crazy or diagnosed with some sort of mental illness, he consciously experimented with his victims bodies in his own words to create zombies, he loved doing it, it was his vocation. I don’t want to believe that I am as wicked and evil as Dahmer but I know it’s possible. To deny this is to repress my own darkness and wickedness. To know I am capable of such darkness frightens me. I hope Jung and Freud have an answer for somebody like Dahmer. Maybe it is the ID out of control. Sigmund Freud explained that the ID is the seat of both the repressed material and the drives, to which had been added to the unconscious fantasies and unconscious feelings, notably guilt feelings. Expanding on this idea, Freud states that the mind is divided into 3; into what we call the ID, Ego and the Superego. The Superego is the watchful, judging, punishing agency in the individual. The ID is self-gratifying and amoral and the Ego is the middle ground of the two and strives to be moral. I don’t think Freud and Jung would understand an individual quite as complicated as Dahmer, to try and understand somebody like Dahmer is impossible. I mean he seduced and lured his victims to his place, drugged them, killed them, cut them and sat with the stench of their decomposing bodies. The smell was second nature to him. Sometimes psychology is not enough, perhaps this is a genetic thing, maybe his the exception in the family tree. When he was finally caught he didn’t resist, he was compliant and told the whole truth, every horrific detail, where he hid body parts, how many he had killed, the hearts, biceps, legs he ate, when the killing spree commenced – everything. He knew what he had done was evil and he asked for the death penalty that was not granted because it was banned in his State. He was accepting of who he was, he was not bothered, he was not haunted by ghosts and demons, he was not remorseful, he even had fans who corresponded with him in jail, fans who projected onto him their undesirable feelings, desires and fantasies and he reciprocated back that energy. Jeffrey Dahmer is your definitive example of a monster, he scares me. Maybe I am just scared of myself.

Another Amy

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Another Amy

Are you telling me I am about to lose another Amy? God give me a break. Nah, this is uncalled for. This is unfair, I did everything you wanted. Why are you doing this to me? My goodness, I just can’t catch a break. I don’t accept this, nah I deserve more. I just can’t lose another Amy, they are limited and it’s not just that, he won’t enable her to fly and that what she deserves, the sky, the solar system, the milky-way, everything! I’ve lost so much, I have sacrificed so much. Currently, I can’t offer you much but the other guy can. He is strong and masculine and I am just chasing dreams. Money is slow and has been that way for a while, it’s the reason we are in this position. Success for me isn’t guaranteed, I am one of many. Why would you want to be an entrepreneur? Trust me, it’s an overrated experience and reality is not as glamorous. I believe I am the best but that’s not enough, a billion men have perished. I wish it didn’t have to be this way but I accept, after all my strategy is long-term. Maybe Amy isn’t the one, I dread that relevation because it means I have to start all over and I don’t have the energy to project and experience things anew. I doubt I have it me to fall in love again, theres a hand full of Amy’s and they are all taken. Time elapses and life difficult so I understand, I wish you all the best. What a pity, she had everything, the boobs, personality, the face, body, wit, the brains and just about everything! She was perfect but I accept, you are my sacrifice. At least you were mine for a while. I set you free, I wish nothing but the best for you. You deserve beautiful things.

I did love you Amy, I had plans. But life is difficult and never goes according to script. I had it all figured out but Mothernature doesn’t care all that much for my plans. Sometimes I think that I will never fall in love again. It’s difficult for me to fall in love, you were an exception and then I got another exception and now all my exceptions are gone. Deja Vu, it’s the past repeating itself. I am losing another Amy.

PS. When I was in high school, I wrote a poem for a concert that I was going to participate in. I thought the poem was good but I wanted feedback. My friends weren’t going to give me constructive feedback and so I asked Amy, she was in my class. I trusted her judgment, I thought she was amazing. When we were seniors in Primary school, she beat me in a speech competition. I was great but she was better. I gave her my poem and the next day she told me what she thought. As she was delivering her verdict I zoned out a bit and stared at her boobs but I recovered and heard everything she said, don’t judge me! True, I was thinking and picturing her naked but I was still listening! She wasn’t impressed with my poem. Her remarks was that there wasn’t feeling and emotion in my words. It was superficial and I did a lot of unnecessary rhyming. She said my words lacked empathy and compassion. She said she understands that it might be too hard for me considering I am a boy and she’s referencing things that come easy for her because she’s a girl. Then she gave me an example of what she was talking about with a poem about hands. It was so descriptive and emotive, her adjectives were powerful and rooted in reality, there was feeling and her words had empathy. Her poem felt real and personal. Her example caressed my spirit. I changed my poem and wrote another one. She changed my writing style and my artistic process. She made me realize that feminine traits are artistic in nature. I learned to caltivate these feminine traits like empathy, listening more, compassion and understanding throughout my young life and my work has gotten better. I am better. Also, I can attract the opposite sex with the greatest of ease, it’s not an ego thing, it’s just what it is. Trust me, I can take your girl if I wanted to. My reworked poem turned out great too, the crowd loved it, I loved it. I implemented her advice. She made me a better writer, I am still reaping the fruits of that interaction. I pray God gives me another Amy.

The one

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The one

I am the one, fucking bitches, decimating pussy like a vaginal disease. I aim to please, going up against me will leave you exposed like a midget with no knees. You coming up short and you will never reach. My verse just blessed you and you didn’t have to sneeze. Flow fresh like Spring and the punchlines a breeze. Swag cold like heat and sure to make you freeze. You all talk like a girl on Tinder whose just a tease. Kicking down the door cause I don’t need the keys. Puffing out smoke cause I got the weed. Implanting words in your mind like a seed, to make you strong and grounded like a tree. My style buzzing like a bee, while you lactose intolerant and you never get the cream. I am living out my dream, making money, fucking honeys on a stream. One mention of me and niggas scream, cause I bring the horror like you wouldn’t believe. I am the one while niggas phony as a weave. Unavailable to all my haters like a leave. A crown on my head like a king, high notes when I am hitting it from the back, she can sing. At the highest on the podium cause all I do is win. All of you are secondary like the next of kin. I am the one, tempting nuns with a sin. Baptising the game with miracle water from my basin.

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Long-term

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Long-term

The plan has always been long-term. You can have that bitch, she’s all yours and expedient, no long-term prospects like a deviant. I never minded missing a couple of parties, I was lenient, I don’t wanna be cool, I just am and you can believe that. I am the guy who goes on social media to diss social media. Cause what you gonna do? A lot of yall are like insurance brokers, you claim too much. We see the unhappiness in your eyes in all your pictures. Masquerading in falsehoods thinking it will affect your futures. Handling this post solo, I don’t need features. Your self-importance is a fairy-tale no one believes. No one really cares, it might be hard to conceive. You can take your fluke win, my insistence is on the league cause consistence is the key. I only play for the long haul and not just the long ball. I play to win forever and that’s just my call. The plan has always been long-term. I never lost sleep over what glimmers because I’ve always known I am a star. On top like the emperor of the Tsar. Constantly shinning and raising the bar. I am serving millions of people around the world like I said I would. I am international like I said I’d be. My words are helping people see. My presence unlocks all doors like a key. I am only going to get better and better. My influence is growing and my voice moves matter. They didn’t understand because their focus was fixed on the fleeting present that dissappears like an illusion. Instant gratification, a failed conclusion. They labeled me a loser and a failure cause I was broke chasing a dream. Cash rules everything around me, I am getting the cream. Blind to the vision because their lense was shortsighted and narrow. Nowadays, my words pierce the skin like an arrow. Time is the great neutralizer, my past efforts are bearing fruit and my dreams are finally coming true.

I am stronger, I am faster, I am smarter, I am the one. Ask your girl who can’t keep her hands off me because the charisma is fuming like carbon monoxide, gaseous killing them slowly with a smile. I am outside, danger when me and your girl lock eyes, cause I’ll take her and she’ll feed you lies. This was always the plan, patience and increasing worth like land. Your man is so bland, it’s so sad, so I kicked him out cause I am the leader of this band. Beyonce longevity, changing positions to sustain the activity, you were too impulsive like a kid with a tooth cavity. Finally a dick big enough to fuck up the world, no missionary, that’s boring, just a cautionary, on all fours so the bitch remains stationary. The plan has always been long-term, life-bearing and conclusive like sperm, vintage and timeless like a perm.

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Heel turn

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Heel turn

I am everything you say I am. Yes, I am narcissistic, egoistic, out of sync, grandiose, envious and irrational. I am a worldwide phenomena and not just national. Now that class is in session, I’ll make this educational. Don’t be emotional, I’ll hand out gold stars for pointing out the obvious. Like you left her unattended, what did you expect, she’s leaving with us. Godlike style, best vibe, best charisma and a sparkling section, take it easy, relax, she’s coming with us. Ever since that heel turn, the earth be plowing. Fresh produce delivered on a daily, with energy renewable, its all wind. Blowing away my competition like Team Rocket blasting out of space, my thunderbolts is Ashy and will shock you to win the race cause my Pikachu ain’t yellow, a couple of volts will solve the the case. Ever since the heel turn, you pay me, acknowledge me or get out off my face. The dough be raising so it’s time to eat cake. If you think you can come after me then you need two feet on the brake. Cause I’m a rake, two fingers in your eyes to avoid the wake. And a further low blow when the ref is in disposed to higher the stakes. Why play fair when the objective is to win? Why stay a virgin when the object is to sin? I said it before and I say it now, I am the greatest of all time. This is communications from the future, telling you to bet your last dime, on the great man antakalipa, my returns are better than crime. Headshot repercussions when I zone in you and make my move, servwe your ambitions and stay in your lane, observe. Ever since that heel turn, anything can happen like let’s do it or suck my dick and if you feeling froggy then leap, Kermit! I never commit, a counterattacking strategy works best for vermin who come up short like midgets, I set the bar so high, that my shadow don’t touch the surface, I set the limits. The clouds, the base, your stuff, contained in a case, you’re so vain, coming up to me is a recipe for pain, crush you up completely and use you as bait, catch another sucker, just to perpetuate the chain.

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