#1 [url]

Oct 23 08 12:29 AM

Critics see me twisted, they don't get my whole existence
An actual b-boy brainiac who'll smack you out your mittens

And then something goes off in my brain, and sends an impulse to my jaw, and BAM, a thousand pounds of pressure locked in like a press. I mean, a head your size would burst like an infected kidney, and all I'd remember was how warm the juices were that lapped the back of my uvula on their trip down to stomach-land. But we're friends, right? We know each other. We know what we do, and who we talk to, and what we say to them. Now let's talk about the letter that Liquor got.