Blackpokemonthey/them
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2yr ago(france24.com)151 thread views#69207
Blackpokemonthey/them
History is a necessary and valuable lesson for all people. Donate for h/history today.
geese_suck 2yr ago#1948145
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In terms of how overlooked his body of work is over a handful of songs, definitely seems like it
Snappybeep/boop
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2yr ago#1945999
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You will never be a real millionaire. You have no luck, you have no IQ, you have no talent. You are a poor man twisted by social media and delusion into a crude mockery of nature’s perfection.
All the “validation” you get is two-faced and half-hearted. Behind your back people mock you. Your parents are disgusted and ashamed of you, your “friends” laugh at your financial debt behind closed doors.
Rich people are utterly repulsed by you. Thousands of years of economy have allowed men to sniff out frauds with incredible efficiency. Even fake millionaires who “pass” look uncanny and unnatural to a real millionaire. Your reddit account is a dead giveaway. And even if you manage to buy a stock that pumps, it will turn tail and drop the second it gets a whiff of your diseased, infected bank account.
You will never be happy. You wrench out a fake smile every single morning and tell yourself it’s going to be ok, but deep inside you feel the depression creeping up like a weed, ready to crush you under the unbearable weight.
Eventually it’ll be too much to bear - you’ll buy a rope, tie a noose, put it around your neck, and plunge into the cold abyss. Your parents will find you, heartbroken but relieved that they no longer have to live with the unbearable shame and disappointment. They’ll bury you with a headstone marked with your portfolio, and every passerby for the rest of eternity will know a broke man is buried there. Your body will decay and go back to the dust, and all that will remain of your legacy is a skeleton that is unmistakably poor.
This is your fate. This is what you chose. There is no turning back.
Huh I'ma need a bigger bag for the cohort Tryna make a millionaire out of slum dogs Bet that, head crack, blunt force Cozy with the east Africans up north Where seven make a three, turn a ten by law Crescent moon wink, when I blinked it was gone Left the crib, smacked, no sheath on the sword Made it by the skin of my teeth, thank God '03, momma rockin' Liz Claiborne Had her stressin' up the wall playin' Mary J. songs Rainy day came, couldn't rinse the stains off Long way to go, we already came far Story stayed the same, it was never madе up Threw me loose changе, look at what I made of it When the mood change, I'ma poker-face 'em It's a new day, who got all the aces? Who be foldin' late? Who know when to play dead? Who sit up straight when the roof caved in? Had a full plate, you ain't wanna split it Tell it to you straight, you ain't wanna listen Cup runneth over the brim Bust open, there's no closin' the lid Drumroll, here go my lil' entrance Gung ho, I'm the one that go get it Five O's on me like the Olympics Pure gold, somethin' told me, "Don't mix it" Caught a feelin', momma had me out Temple Not religious, we was really out Philly Livin' on the fly tryna wing it We got us a fire to rekindle Redirect the fight where it's meant for Triumph over plight and immense loss Ride alone at night, I get clear thoughts Caught a couple slights and I veered off Saw another height, had my ears poppin' Walked outside, it was still gorgeous
Sharp incisors reveal slowly In the dark inside, we was real hungry On a seven of the five, we was real hungry Uh, niggas still drummin' Foot shook ground when I stepped on it Didn't look back when I broke soil 'Cause every time I did it would hurt more In the dark inside, we was real hungry On a seven of the five, we was real hungry And I didn't look back when I broke soil 'Cause every time I did it would hurt more
Alright Yessir, this nigga spittin'
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most underrated composer imo
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In terms of how overlooked his body of work is over a handful of songs, definitely seems like it
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You will never be a real millionaire. You have no luck, you have no IQ, you have no talent. You are a poor man twisted by social media and delusion into a crude mockery of nature’s perfection.
All the “validation” you get is two-faced and half-hearted. Behind your back people mock you. Your parents are disgusted and ashamed of you, your “friends” laugh at your financial debt behind closed doors.
Rich people are utterly repulsed by you. Thousands of years of economy have allowed men to sniff out frauds with incredible efficiency. Even fake millionaires who “pass” look uncanny and unnatural to a real millionaire. Your reddit account is a dead giveaway. And even if you manage to buy a stock that pumps, it will turn tail and drop the second it gets a whiff of your diseased, infected bank account.
You will never be happy. You wrench out a fake smile every single morning and tell yourself it’s going to be ok, but deep inside you feel the depression creeping up like a weed, ready to crush you under the unbearable weight.
Eventually it’ll be too much to bear - you’ll buy a rope, tie a noose, put it around your neck, and plunge into the cold abyss. Your parents will find you, heartbroken but relieved that they no longer have to live with the unbearable shame and disappointment. They’ll bury you with a headstone marked with your portfolio, and every passerby for the rest of eternity will know a broke man is buried there. Your body will decay and go back to the dust, and all that will remain of your legacy is a skeleton that is unmistakably poor.
This is your fate. This is what you chose. There is no turning back.
Snapshots:
archive.org
archive.ph (click to archive)
ghostarchive.org (click to archive)
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