post em i need em

crine u brad as pitt

imagine

aint no pizza get out

Ok dis hard

yeah okay b**** lmfao.

nas lost

Nah f*** this. I have a choice between s*** with the FBI or Getting my f***ing IP leaked? you guys are f***ed. im not leaking s***. leak my f***ing IP, Im done

Yet again, it was another late, sleepless night in Fayettville. The studio was packed, yet intimate all at the same time. Warm amber lights washed over exotic leather furniture, creating a dimly lit sonic oasis. A sweet aroma of clean laundry clouded the air, while vanilla scented candles were strategically placed around the room. The mood developed into a haze of relaxation. As engineers and producers methodically worked the mixing boards, Logic and the rest of his entourage nodded along to a rough take of a track that would later be called "ATM." Many individuals in the studio danced along while producers ran the track back, but there stood Cole in a dark corner, dissecting every piece of "ATM" with surgical precision. The track stopped playing, and Cole stepped from the shadows. He didn't speak much, but when he did, people listened.

"I'm going back in the booth, play that outro back."

Puzzled, the engineer began playing the outro instrumental back, not questioning Cole's demands. The room fell quiet as people began to observe. As the outro began to play, Cole put on a pair of monitor headphones, rubbed his freeform dreads and began to take a drink of a white, milky substance. Closing his eyes, Cole began to flow freely.

"Count it up, count it up, count it up, count it up, count it up, count it up, count it count it up, count it up, count it up" Producers and entourage members in the studio began to look around the room to see if others were witnessing what was happening. Cole continued crooning into the microphone, while the mood became even darker in the studio.

"Count it up, count it up, count it up, count it up, count it up, count it up, count it count it up, count it up, count it up." The Engineer looked over to Logic with concern. The engineer whispered, "should we stop him?" Logic then put up one finger, as to silence the engineer while shaking his head, not taking his eyes off of Cole.

"Count it up, count it up, count it up, count it up, count it up, count it up, count it count it up, count it up, count it up." Candles in the studio began to flicker and die out, one by one, as if a spirit swept throughout the room.

"Count it up, count it up, count it up, count it up, count it up, count it up, count it count it up, count it up, count it up." By now, everyone had stopped what they were doing, all attention was focused on the darkened silhouette in the recording booth. Finishing up his final thoughts, Cole hung up the headphones, took another sip of almond milk, and crept out of the recording booth.

As he came back into the studio, all eyes followed his every movement. Cole retreated back to his shadowed corner, where he leaned against the wall with his fingers interlocked and pressed against his lips, as if in deep thought. The silence of the room created an uneasy tension. The uneasiness built more and more, as studio members waited for him to speak. Finally, he broke the silence.

"Play it back."

you aint getting no p**** i promise you that

imagine knowing them

Why the f*** would kanye tour when he has a son coming in December and Trab is already on tour.... you know the rest

rotate the satellites

youtube.com/playlist?list=PLKf5GGwU_8dyvwVVUJZ08vxs6OXbX6gPh

on borrowed time already you cocks

Djoats masturbating to take care

He won for saving toilet paper