I’ma talk to you plain – like I do with all folks at the end of a relationship. I feel things are betta that way—ain’t no misunderstandings or need for repeated – identical conversations. I don’t want no follow-up questions or bold declarations. It takes me a long time to get clear on things; but once I am—I am (firm as a pit bull 0n a pork shoulder).
I’m wit you; but I am not really fucking wit you. You need to know this cause you dealing wit me like you are expecting that old loyalty I had when we first hooked up—heartily singing love songs (anthems), blindly following your leader, sticking up for you when someone said a bad word against you, and so on. You seem actually offended, hurt-even, when I call you on your shit. Your boys unfairly kill one of my Brothas, try to silence one…
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