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Bitch, if you don't like my opinion, just like you said, move on. I don't care. You asked for an opinion, I gave you an answer. You happy? No. You want me to buy my kids a Barbie, bitch, I'ma buy you a five-yarded highball, damn it, shove it up your pussy. I'll shove ten of them up your mouth so you can shut the fuck up and move on with your life. Okay? Okay. You stay safe.
First of all when did I ever ask you for your opinion like ever ever ever ever secondly bitch what the fuck you come Finna touch my dick you Finna touch my dick bitch you're weird
It's not a fucking cigarette. I've said this multiple fucking times. To multiple people. It's not a fucking cigarette. It's a fucking cone. It has weed in it. Alright? And no, I smoke all the fucking time. So don't tell me what I can and cannot do. Thank you, goodbye, have a good day.
Interesting, because the color of that, the end of that blunt, whatever the fuck you're smoking, that's exactly where you're going after you die. Hell, bitch.
To be honest, I got too many struggles that I can't even pick one. Um, I would stop being gay, but it's not really a choice. Um, I would stop smoking, but nah, I can't be sober. My bad.