Seems like every time I log onto blogger I either gain or lose a follower. Lol, niggas need to make up their minds. Am I interesting or not? Actually, you know what's some bullshit? MySpace disabled the link to my blog that I posted on my profile because they said that my blog either is a virus, philshing, or spam! That's kind of "way off base"; as the white people would say. I don't even know how to give viruses or philsh or whatever that is. Maybe I can spam you with my awesome music, or not. Seriously, that's freaking lame. I wrote them an email about it and I still haven't received a reply. Well, so much for that cause. I guess my MySpace followers will never be able to link up with my blogspot friends and stuff. Tough cookies? Yea, something of the sorts.
I haven't really blogged much. I'm kind of on my anti-computer kick. I hear that there is a lot of drama going around in what used to be my online inner circle. Where's the love at guys? I've heard a lot of bullshit. Some of which I truly do believe. Why do I believe it? Because you niggas are fucking lames. Lames would do the shit that I heard. I'm mad that you let a nigga you've never met affect your life though. Angry? Blog about me. Ga'head. I'm just saying, though. Every single name that was brought up in that conversation is now on my lame list for life. I can't believe you. Well, that's contradictory. I can believe you. I hope that some of you find lives within the next few seconds, though. It'd really do you some good. Why do I talk so much shit? Honestly it's because I'm arrogant enough to say it's because I can. I'm sure that no one will come at me sideways about it. I mean, come the fuck on - you know my track record! I'm a beast, son-son! Sike.
For all of you Joe Budden fans, including Carmen, that downloaded Padded Room - you're all banned from ever being my friend again. All of you are cunts and I hope you get suicide bombed when you step outside of your house. Like I want a fat despressed chick with an ice cream bucket full of dynomite to run up and hug you super tight and her other fat friend strikes a lighter by her butt and she farts and it blows you up. Stupid ass niggas. How could you? That's not even right. Go out and support that man. I think I'm the last person alive that still buys albums. Oops? Stupid me, I guess.
Well, I'm off to watch this movie. Bye now.
I haven't really blogged much. I'm kind of on my anti-computer kick. I hear that there is a lot of drama going around in what used to be my online inner circle. Where's the love at guys? I've heard a lot of bullshit. Some of which I truly do believe. Why do I believe it? Because you niggas are fucking lames. Lames would do the shit that I heard. I'm mad that you let a nigga you've never met affect your life though. Angry? Blog about me. Ga'head. I'm just saying, though. Every single name that was brought up in that conversation is now on my lame list for life. I can't believe you. Well, that's contradictory. I can believe you. I hope that some of you find lives within the next few seconds, though. It'd really do you some good. Why do I talk so much shit? Honestly it's because I'm arrogant enough to say it's because I can. I'm sure that no one will come at me sideways about it. I mean, come the fuck on - you know my track record! I'm a beast, son-son! Sike.
For all of you Joe Budden fans, including Carmen, that downloaded Padded Room - you're all banned from ever being my friend again. All of you are cunts and I hope you get suicide bombed when you step outside of your house. Like I want a fat despressed chick with an ice cream bucket full of dynomite to run up and hug you super tight and her other fat friend strikes a lighter by her butt and she farts and it blows you up. Stupid ass niggas. How could you? That's not even right. Go out and support that man. I think I'm the last person alive that still buys albums. Oops? Stupid me, I guess.
Well, I'm off to watch this movie. Bye now.
No comments:
Post a Comment