Legit spit hold weight in these streets. Who am I kidding? I could not tell you a Diddy-damned thing about these streets. Thank God for that. Random ninjas choke you out. Foot Clan status. I can tell you about that drank, though. Not about that Henny or the Jose. About that craft beer, stay the fuck up off that Rosay. Wannabe rapper, but I spit the real sure enough. The truth in this booth. Stupid with this bloggin’ shit. Outlets are important. Otherwise my mouth run, startin’ shit.