Sharing ideas, privately, in non abusive circumstances is a super good feeling. My head spurts off creative shit. I think it’s a byproduct of being bipolar.

(No Jessica Moore. [i am so sick of that sociopath. The hoe is really bird brained. Ya’ll gentlemen hit the nail right on its head. All those 2 do is covers of other peoples shit while stealing your loot. Glad at least Zendaya is learning Spanish. Nice work. Lol]. There is nothing magical about you. You are not invited to the “party”. Nobody wants the pussy you sellin. Feel free to get your hoe moment body back. I’m getting my mind right and back from you and Dream Hampton, and — twitter — -that’s not where my creativity belongs. So you can never capitalize on it for your hoe moment hip hop profits, again. Spread my ideas. And laugh over me driving to a bridge to kill myself while you search for your next victims.

We got more important things to build than ya’lls redemption for the horror that you’ve watched, instigated, created. By worrying only about yourselves and your exclusive 2 children.

Dead. Pigeons.

I’m worried about a lot of children. All colors. All over this country. And the closest I’ve ever come to “hating” is ya’ll. But love is the cure for those who have mental differences and get abused by hoes like you — thinking our lives are worthless and for your “artistic” consumption. Get a job. I know you’ve never had jobs. Now’s right about the time to change that up. If, you ain’t tryna be homeless. And begging the uber driver to pay you for your old worn out asses.

Don’t know if you’ve noticed how many beautiful women there are on this planet. Super creative genius women on their own hard work and merits. But, it’s bout time someone puts you in check. Your stuntin on hip hop heads? Dead.)