Tuesday, November 23, 2010


"Who win the lottery and who meet death?"
Buket TKO.

With all due respect, you ain't an architect, you misdiagnosed, I must correct, you drink tap water in designer bottles devil, I design slaughter for your declining respect level. There ain't no I in team but there's definately a MEAT, and where there's meat, you know there's beef, and where's there's beef there's beef getting meted out, with the money machine yardimean.

You'll all be kissing their feet tommorow,
Fake mother lovers.
Mother motherfucking lovers.

"You want some beef?
(Toomer hits a gronk twice to the nose)
Anyone else?
Next time mind your own fucking business.
I love when people interfere in other peoples business.
Is that ya sister, ya brother, ya cousin, your roommate?
Then why don't you just shut, the, fuck, up."

Toomer TKO.

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