Food for thought. soul food that is.

finga lickin jenga flipin stir fry.

Cook a lil sum sum in the back.

Pull up with the whip around six. When you stake a place out its best to be early. Most niggas sleep round this the time.

Some lil birdy knocks on the window. Dae Dae grins, grabbing his junk. He slick like that. Always trying to fuck or some shit.

Shake my head. There’s a light coming from the crib. That’s our cue.

Dae revs the whip and runs over tha chicken head like he on his GTA VI.

I pull out the shottie. Start spraying. Some real house warming shit.

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