I don’t think my homie’s afraid of me! 😳
Cuz the other truth is, if you are kind and gentle and care about and love me — don’t lie to, cheat on, and steal from me.
I’m super sweet. kind. compassionate. nurturing. And loving. Like, totally. ☺️
Believe me you, I know how to please my own monogamous man. Quite well. I don’t need no help — at all. My brain? 4,000. Thanks for the offers!
No thank you.
And i’m a natural teacher. Organic. So you best believe, I’m gettin mine.
If, that’s what I decide.
I have no problems with gay men. At all! Long as ya’ll ain’t messin with my man? We cool. I don’t do that DL shit. It’s hoe moment dangerous. And, I’m monogamous.
I don’t hate your bisexual ass. Talib. I just don’t like — your character — as a human being. It has nothing to do with the color of your skin. Or your sexuality.
Or the color of skin of your harem hoe chics. Or their sexualities either.
And, I happen to prefer men.
Is primarily heterosexual on the Kinsey scale, a sin? Lmao! *shrug*
I like men. Condemn me to death. Lol!
I have no problems with chics who like Paris, and sipping expensive tea, and dresses and heels, and manicured locks, and sexuality all over the place.
But that’s not me. So don’t try to ride my ideas, using me, for who I actually am. On my back, for your lifestyle, cuz you think mine? Is trash.
Just cuz I like Haitians and Dominicans, and organic tea at the Chinese supermarket, trash ass Chinese food (which I don’t eat, cuz I actually eat real Chinese food. In Chinatown lol), quality jeans on discount with steel toed timbs, and celibacy, cuz I prefer one good man.
Doesn’t mean I’m trash.
And there ain’t no problems.
Cuz the other thing I won’t be doing is calling the police or FBI.
Imma “clock you right in your face” kinda woman.
Always have been. So take that shit elsewhere.
Talib, I repel black men. Apparently. They all afraid of me. When I come to see them bout some foul shit — THEY did? They like, “I’m callin the police!” And runnin: from my actual — fists. All 114! Yeah! Progress! pounds of it.
I pack a mean punch. That will knock yo ass out. Blood, everywhere. Really. Real reality.
(I am not the chic at the French cafe sippin custom made expensive teas in a white dress, with red cherries, and hooker heels. Hoe moments. I read James Baldwin? When I was 10! Lmao! )
I’m only interested? In one of them. One of those black men.
And he ain’t you. Not even close. Lmmfao!
I came to this union mtg for one purpose. To ask to get layed off to protect my kids. Since they say no? I’m out. Work to do.
You should see the portrait my dad did of me. The mask looks like a happy black girl with a big smile and afro. And underneath? I look all mean. With my hair pulled back in a bun.
Good lookin! Lmmfao!
Cuz dad. It’s not a mask. It is what happens when massive abuse occurs. In order to survive. You put your foot up an ass. Righteously. Or you will die. In hip hop. It is not what I grew up on. And so I just go straight back to the old school. That I grew up on.
That nigga said “4x real nigga”. Really tho? lol
Ya’ll should make music off your personal life struggles. Get back to ya’lls roots. *shrug*
“Make the check out to…” not you. You can make that check out to FTP, ATL. I make my own money. Off my own slave labor, and apparently? Help a shitload of super rich people? Make theirs, as well. 😒
And they give back? Zero.
(You know how much I give a fuck about copied ideas, stolen poetry and films? Not. Even. A. Little. “Art”? 😤 lol!)
I, have a teflon heart. Because I have so many — feelings? If you rip it apart?
Suicide is an option. *shrug*
I learned the hard way. How to deal with hoe moment niggaz. Four years straight. Every single day, driving to *the bridge*. Perfecting my dive at the pool. So when I hit the water, like concrete, I would shatter every bone in my body. And drown.
I reached out for help. Like people tell you to do? Don’t be afraid. Get help! (For something much bigger than me. One person. 3 x’s a week — therapy. A couple different meds.
Nothing was working.)
Cuz, well, it was hip hop. And I was like, hip hop is my sanctuary! From all kinds of abuse…what is happening?!
I’m going crazy!
Kill yourself kill yourself kill yourself for ever thinking that your whole foundation was REAL.
So, now that I’m better. And getting better daily? I play this. Constant replay! One of the best lyricists in “the game”! Lol
Watch depressedguy4, Talib Kweli’s favorite punching bag, be my ex boyfriend. Who should be happy! That he ain’t dead! And has an excellent girlfriend!
Stead of some hoe moment hip hop sloppy chics!! Who put they pussies up for trade and stock. (Donald Trump?! grab those women by they pussies. Them, 2 of them. Specifically. They have no idea what slave labor actually is. Too busy fuckin dumb niggaz handing over all they money. Then getting? Dissed. Cuz, those dudes got tricked, into thinking stalking sociopaths actually have — feelings. Smh.)
Union mtg. Gotta run! Ya’ll have fun! I’m going to protect these kids!
The Boston Public Schools? has decided not to end our program.
Welp, someone knows they roots.
Congrats! To the Irish Republican Army. Lol
When Boston niggaz will have a Detroit hoes back. But, *trash* he ain’t got no money!!
And, damn! I won’t be able to kill that chic and steal a thing from her. Because she’s already linked. *woe is me* *i’m so sick*
4 years yet? Let’s see how well you do. With me doing me. And you doing —
the real you.
*i want my body back* — Queen Jessica Moore.
(I can’t fuck with that hip hop “label”. Niggaz call me queen? I think “hoe moment pussy.” Like I’m part of some harem. Nah dog. Never that. I’ve survived a hella lot. On my own merits. And my own slave labor. Legs shut.)
Empresses, don’t know about that. It’s never been hoe moments. Just love, with struggling niggaz — who were, um, hoes.
Now you know.
Lesson for younger women/men, from an older head…You can do all kinds of shit to survive whatever. On your own body. (Stripping is not a crime. Plastic surgery is not a crime.) Lol!
Just do not run through hip hop men/women. Using, abusing, stealing they loot, and dumping them like they lives don’t matter. If you find you got stuck with those niggaz, and didn’t know it?
Free yourself. Legs? Shut. Once you put yourself all over traks with them, once you steal someone else’s shit — and start abandoning heads who you know/who supported you — in real reality, face to face? Thinking this shit is all fun and games? For that hoe moment money?
It’s an issue? Of character. Make sure you have a good one. From jump.
And that’s why I dig younger men in general? Cuz you can’t blame them for none of this shit. Nothing, at all, to do with it. And you put the breaks on them before they get involved in it. The same for younger women. Cardi B needs to be on the city council or something! “What’s with all these rats in the Bronx?” She’s funny! Lmao!
Good fuckin question. I have no clue. I didn’t even know that the Bronx had rats like that. Boston certainly dug em up.
*the big dig* in Boston? Brought out the super rats. I remember seeing one and I was like, omg! Is that a beagle?! (The dog lol)
Cuz guess what this hoe moment trash isn’t?!
How’s that for real “talk”?
Nikki Minaj should not have a response. 😒She should rap about her own life, and the shit she’s had to put up with from some hoe moment niggaz that she actually loved and supported. Not robbed and abandoned (hence, how angry she gets). I’m sure Remy? Can feel that. Lmao! She know what time it is. 😊 Remy Ma got a good man. Guess what kinda free labor she had to put in to make that happen? 😒lol!
Ya’ll act like people’s lives end cuz of a rap. They don’t. People’s lives end when other people do some real foul shit — super mentally sick. And instead of people helping who knew about it? In reality. Not words on a trak.
They decide to make money — off black and brown death.
And, white death as well.
Cuz since when does a penis, without a fuckin brain, know color?! Lmmfao!
hip hop virginity? Lmao! how bout, I just think there are better things to rap about. Like, your own life. Unless, all you have to say is…well, I have 9000 kids from all my hoe moments. A great private school education. All my family members are academics. And my mommy paid for my first mixtape.
I know straight conservative white dudes who are like, laughing. Lol
Plus, stay up all day and all night abusing depressed marginalized people who are clearly telling you, You’re a dick. A big ass walking — hoe moment — penis. Booksmart. That’s it. Lol.
(Don’t try and steal my beautiful b side! Just pay ya dues! Fool. Lmmfao!)
Determined. I did okay in Hawaii. It was kinda hard. But not really. Longboard. Not short. Though you’d think it would be the opposite. I was feelin the whole covered shit, in a wetsuit. And, since I’m in good shape and you need that to ride some waves? I had a great 4 experiences. Lol And want to do it again.
That video is all original art ya’ll. Don’t get excited by a white man who doesn’t know how to swim?! Yeah. I wouldn’t count on it. 🙃
I’m a better swimmer than a lot of people though. White men included. And, it shows.
I have no fear of — water.
(Safety tip for the ocean in 100 feet. If you feel the undertow? Don’t panic. And don’t, ever, swim against it. Quickest way to drown. You work with it. Gradual pace, at an angle, so that you are swimming back into the shore. You might wind up 2 miles down the coast? But you’ll make it back. Facts.)
When I think of Howard in 91? First thing that comes to mind, is hip hop. It was the biggest love session I’d ever witnessed. The diversity of music and people. Over a long time period. 2nd biggest. The biggest was a weekend. Freaknik ‘92. Where my homie, at Clark — who shoved my skinny ass in a locker in 7th grade 😡 lol! — saw me from a lamppost and started chuckin m&m’s at me. Indy filmmaker dude. How he got on a damn lamppost?! Sittin on the light fixture? Anyone’s guess. I was like “get yo ass down from there before you fall and crack yo head!” And, I was happy to see him. Because, what are the chances of seeing your homie from middle school, in all those people. He still in ATL. Lol
He brazy! Lol. He’s got a beautiful wife and kid. I got to work with him when he did some filmmaking at the school I used to teach at.
Anyway, while I’m sure a whole bunch of shady ish went down (rape, sexual harassment, abuse) — not one single person, when a million people dropped on that city? Was shot, or killed. It was lovely. And when it got too crowded and I was like, waaaay too much stimulus. Lol I dipped to go hang with the alt white kids in little 5 points. And that was all love as well.
ATL is a great place. Good people. They’re very friendly. I got lost and I must have looked confused, because someone actually stopped. And said, are you okay? Can I help you with anything?
*culture shock* lol and she did too. Took some paper out her bag and drew me a whole map. Detailed. I tried to give her money and she was like, “you must be from the north” lol “You okay? I’m good.”
I insisted. So she finally took it. Like, if it makes you feel better.*shrug*
When you’re not dying but you act like you are. You have no clue what sick is, watching attempts on you life, being destroyed for someone else’s benefit. While they laugh about pain, and terror, and destruction. Then discuss social justice for marginalized heads.
It’s the biggest hip hop hypocrisy I’ve ever witnessed. And since I’m guilty of loving, and actually getting mentally sick off it? And the whole point was to get back to you two chics?
I ain’t sweatin that shit. And while I’m worried about my own self and my own heart, and desire to have love with an emperor.
I’m really worried about my kids. It makes me feel nauseous.
I’ve never seen anything like it.
This shit is so not original hip hop. At least not the diversity I was used to. Pre 91. Mozart Park. And groups of people, different backgrounds , a whole rainbowed spectrum, taggin and breakin and dj’ing and mc’ing dope ish, and everybody stylin like, look at my new kicks/cut/get up.