Somewhere far along this road...

How could you be so... cold
As the winter wind when it breeze, yo
Just remember that you talkin' to me though
You need to watch the way you talkin' to me though
I mean after all the things that we've been through
I mean after all the things we got into
Hey yo, I know of some things that you ain't told me
Hey yo, I did some things but that's the old me
And now you wanna get me back and you gon' show me
So you walk around like you don't know me
You got a new friend, well I got homies
But in the end it's still so lonely

How could be so Dr. Evil?
You're bringin' out a side of me that I don't know
I decided we wasn't gon' speak, so
Why we up 3 a.m. on the phone?
Why do she be so mad at me for?
Homie, I don't know, she's hot and cold
I won't stop, won't mess my groove up
'Cause I already know how this thing go
You run and tell your friends that you're leavin' me
They say that they don't see what you see in me
You wait a couple months then you gon' see
You'll never find nobody better than me

Talk and talk and talk and talk
Baby let's just knock it off
They don't know what we been through
They don't know 'bout me and you
So I got somethin' new to see
And you just gon' keep hatin' me
And we just gon' be enemies
I know you can't believe
I could just leave it wrong
And you can't make it right
I'm gon' take off tonight
Into the night

Never again.

"If spring can take the snow away...
Can it melt away all our mistakes?"

I wish this song would really come true.

"When I grab your neck
I touch your SOUL."

Wait for it... Waaaait for iiiiit...

It'll be like it was... One day. I have... Faith.

WithdrawalFiredChildSupportBitchNiggazBabyMamaDrama
ParkingTicketsPoliceCooperationInsecuritiesTwitterFacebook
WeightGainBrokeLiesAwkwardnessPrideAngerPastPresentEtc.

ViolinsPianosPandaBearsRyanLeslieLyricsMasturbationFood
FashionFashawnBluCousinsMikeKennyBasketballXBOX
GoDogGoWikipediaIDon'tDeserveYouInstrumentalFuture.

TheThoughtThatItWillAllBeOverSoonAndBackToNormal.

Dissimulation.

Good thing I never got around to recording this (See "Whew!!!" in the August posts). Oh, and I "poor-man's patent" all of the shit I write. AND I wrote this in mid-August... Yeah. And of course it would sound better (and probably make more sense) if I was performing this myself. I'm pathetic, (but I'm still that nigga, flyer than everyone, etc.) because this reminds me of when I'd call Breanna and leave her voicemails of me rapping verses. WACK.

**********

We're never gettin' along, so isn't it wrong
That I think of you when I get my intimate on?
Then I listen to songs
You made me angry, so lately, I vent on my blog
Still callin' me a "playah," well, hate the game
I hate to say our relationship ain't the same
I take the pain that I feel when people say your name
But it's so fuckin' hard tryna make a change
Just knowing I could never be with you
It seems that it never would get through your mind when I said that I missed you
Jealousy issues
At first, but later, I'd be ready to kiss you
I see you with that nigga, I'm especially pissed, too
That's you main, I guess I'm second, and it's cool
But not for real, I fell so easy
I guess it's L-O-V-E (dead ass)

And somewhere along the lines, things got hard and I
Up and got pissed, I fuckin' lost it
But really all was fine
'Til somethin' hopped on my mind. It's bloggin' time!
Always lookin' at FaceBook
Statuses, I'm mad and shit, you couldn't relate good
And that's very logical
You steady tellin' me to end the jealousy, but that there's impossible
But for you, I got into a lot of trouble, prolly double
"That's not D, that's a body double!"
We gotta cuddle, but too bad we're not a couple
We had massive potential to be the hottest couple
I'm a rocket shuttle. I'm heated, believe it
I'm hopin' soon I give up
'Cause I ruined enough, I'm feelin' stupid and dumb
But just so you know, I do it because (I love you)

Your likin' of me, I know that it's shrinkin'
But my eyes not closin' or blinkin'
Without you, boo, I'ma boat, and I'm sinkin'
Corny right? See, I know what you're thinkin'
You sayin' "You don't love me, you just love my ass"
Yeah, I do, I love to touch and grab and smack it like you did something bad
I'm fuckin' bad
So [if] I smashed from the back, you should know I'm gonna brag
But seriously though, I hope you're hearin' me, yo
'Cause I'm weary, you know?
So? I'm a whore, and I ignore you. I know, I'm evil
So what? I have a hard time gettin' over people
Remember all the words we created?
I'm nothingness now, it hurts and I hate it
First I should face it, my minds doin' backflips
I'ma try movin' past this (Dammit)

**********

And that's better than any bouquet of flowers, bitch.

LMAO.

Oh, and Happy Halloween, by the way.

Let's see...

I commented someone's FaceBook status (I didn't put "LOL," but I was CLEARLY joking...)
Then this individual (<---CLEARLY a substitute) said "No one asked you anyways..."

OKAY...

Let's get one thing clear. FACEBOOK IS PUBLIC (AND SO IS YOUR STATUS). SO YOU ASKED ALL OF YOUR "FRIENDS," ACTUALLY. If you don't like what I do, suck dick. Delete me. As niggaz would say, "STR8 LYK DAT."


I mean, say what you will or may about me, but at least I'm not... (I JUST NOT NEED TO GO THERE...)

In fact, this goes out to everyone (INCLUDING people who I'm cool with).

I'm actually gonna stop saying things like, "I can put whatever I want on MY blog," because that goes without saying. That being said, I can do whatever I want on MY blog. Bitches. Don't like it, don't be my friend... STOP READING. Eliminate me from the face of the Earth. Can't? Okay, shut up. Hahahahaha.

Reality Check... (Late night venting)

How I'm feeling right now... This quote is just stuck in my head.

"What happens to a dream deferred?"

That's on my mind for many reasons. If what I'm about to vent/rant/babble/etc. about seems irrelevant, who cares...

I'm 18 years old. I don't have anything. Sure, I have lots of material things. But, if you know me PERSONALLY, then you know that those things don't mean anything to me. Why do I get them, you ask? Maybe it's because those things are the only things that have ever given me positive attention in my life. I've been a loser all my life, but I've gotten attention for being different and wearing nice clothes (I've stopped overdressing lately, though). I don't feel good unless I have a $500+ outfit on. I watch too much TV. I went to a sneaker website and saw some shoes I've been anticipating the release of and just became so angry because I knew that the likelihood of me purchasing them is low. And I'm not afraid to admit that I'm broke because I never claimed to have extensive amounts of money, despite my expensive attire. Fuck the implications. I got rejected for 3 jobs this summer (I thought I deserved to get each of them, but whatever)... Since I saw those shoes, I applied for more jobs on the internet. If I don't get the job, it's nothing new to me. Then, I think... What would buying lots of clothes do for me? Confidence? The confidence would be wasted... because apparently no one knows me... And if no one knows me... You know where this is going. I don't know what else to do with money anymore.

So, I'm 18 years old. I have a growing goatee... A sex life (sorry, Mom)... Hopefully college bound in a few months... But I have to walk to school this week. And I have to walk home, too. I choose foot it in the morning because I'm too embarrassed to be dropped off in my step-father's work van... I have enough problems, and enough things that people can make fun of me about. I don't need one more insult added to their arsenal. Hmmm... Since my blog is public, I guess I just told everyone. Whatever. I feel ashamed to BE ashamed about the work van in the first place. I mean, I've NEVER really had much (except for when I lived with my dad), but I don't know. And it fckin' sucks that I can't complain about it because I'll get lectures such as, "When I was your age, I had to walk 5 miles in the snow, blah blah fucking blah." Just because your high school years were wack, doesn't mean mine have to be equally as bad. I need a car... Or at least I need to drive to school. Man, my year is going downhill.

Like I said earlier, I don't really have anything. I really dislike the people in my household... And they dislike me back. I put on the biggest front EVER on a day-to-day. And I hate it. It's faker than the smile I had when someone else was crowned homecoming king (pretty fckin' fake). I have no support in anything I do. I have to motivate myself to do everything. EVERYTHING. I know that they don't think I can go to a 4-year university, despite the numerous academic achievements I've received. The deadline for early entry college applications is coming soon (Nov. 1st), and I'm just starting my application process. I think I can make it... And I want to go to college... No, fuck that. I HAVE to go to college. I have to get the fuck out of here. I hate every "hood nigga" in Kansas City, Kansas and every "boss bitch" here, too. Washington, D.C. or Atlanta isn't going to be any better, but, hey. Whatever.

But... What DOES happen to a dream deferred?

Many of my dreams have been put on hold or eliminated because of various setbacks.

I had potential to be the valedictorian of my future graduating class... Then I experienced attraction to and from girls.
I had potential to be an NCAA basketball player. Then I came to Kansas City...
I had potential to be shirtless and not be ashamed of what people were seeing... Then I started rapping.
I had/have potential to get a record deal (fuck what you heard)... Then came my senior year of high school and the thought of failing due to lack of a college education.

What happens to these deferred dreams? They're looked back on during nights like this. And they're spoken about when I'm on the phone with people and I feel like I do now.

"Does it dry up like a raisin in the sun?"

It's 4 in the morning. And here I am... thinking of my life again.

I'm too tired to even think about this anymore. Much less blog about it. Fuck off.

As I always say, if any bitch nigga/bitch bitch wants to "clown on me" for this, don't waste your time. I openly admit all of this shit already. I AM A LOSER... I AM POOR... MY FAMILY DOESN'T LIKE ME... ETC. ETC. I don't even know why I even put these at the end, but I do anyways.

Down to Earth, much?!

The problem with me and my blogging style is that I vent SO much verbally, I don't feel like typing it on http://darnellleonard.blogspot.com... But I'll put it in a nut(pause)shell for the readers' enjoyment...

Homecoming assembly, right?
Being cocky/arrogant, right?
Thinking I'm fly as shit (I was, though, but that's nothing out of the norm), right?

They call my name while announcing the king candidates...
EVERYONE GOING STRAIGHT CRAZY... RIGHT?

WRONG!!!

In fact, there was actually a vibe in the auditorium that said, "Who the fuck is Darnell Leonard?" I didn't hear shit! I was backstage throwing a Bow Wow-esque temper tantrum, contemplating flipping off the crowd Eminem/Kanye style. I didn't, though. I was pissed. Granted, I received moderate applause when I actually walked on stage... Shouts to Porter (the mascot) for Jerkin' while I was on stage.

The following may be viewed as a cop-out excuse, but it's the dead ass truth, as well.

1. If I AM, in fact, the loser that the lack of applause/cheering made me out to be... SO WHAT? I've been a loser for all but one year of my life. Dead ass.

2. I'm still the best rapper in the city (fuck what you heard) and possibly the state.

3. I'm flyer than everyone IN that non-applause-giving crowd.

4. I blacked and bought a $60 sweater after I got gangsta and left school. AND I spent like $20 on candy. Get at me. LOL. Still caked up, bitches.

5. I GETS BITCHES (LMAO).

6. Ummm... I was flyer than the rest of them, so why am I addressing them?

**********

SPEAKING OF ADDRESSING PEOPLE...

I'm not saying shit if you don't say shit, but if you keep talking shit, then there's gonna have to be some kind of discussion. Notice how I said discussion; I'm not gonna make any threats like someone's mother did to you... That's not what I do. But niggaz seem like they're scared to speak their mind to you. I'm not those niggaz. When it's all said and done, I can END your whole "I'm the shit" mindset with a few sentences. Dead ass, though. And what are you going to say as your comeback? "That's why no one cheered for you, you square. I'm the most popular guy in the school." ...I refuse to go more in depth about this situation until further provoked... And even if that happens, I'll keep my ego-deflating comments to myself. You're cool until you get around certain people. CUT IT OUT. If I were to say the comments/statements/truths, then you'll fuck around and end up feeling like I am... Down to Earth.

^^^That was ill, I don't believe I've actually said a title in my blog entries before.

Point blank.

I feel like TK in this "Terry Kennedy/Bow Wow" reminiscent "beef".

I never thought he'd trip THIS MUCH over a girl that 1) I knew WAY before him, and 2) (I just not need to go here). Many "beefs" I've had involved a female... The only difference between this nigga and the other nigga (who I mentioned in this blog before) is that the latter of the two actually addressed me about the [alleged] situation. Granted, he came at me completely incorrectly (with his no-life-having-ass), but still. If we (the current nigga I'm "beefing" with) were THAT COOL in the summer, you don't pull some coward shit like this... Both of the aformentioned individuals can fuck off, regardless.

Address me about this situation before you make your judgement. And besides, if your SOOO concerned about your future and "career," then this situation shouldn't affect you as much as you made it seem... At that point, fuck the "principles" of what "I did" or "I'm doing" and all that stupid shit. Dead ass.

(Say what you will or may about me posting a blog about this situation. I didn't say that the situation didn't affect me, because I don't fucking see how me and this nigga can go from "cool as fuck" to me saying "fuck this nigga." It's not really my fault that he reacted the way he did. I'm simply stating how I feel about it. Get the fuck off of my blog if you don't like the way I handle things.)

Whatever.

**********

On a lighter note, I can officially buy cigarettes, porngraphy (and star in them), and talk to Shi Reeves without her saying that I'm "jailbait." Go me! It's my birthday (it is).

SAD.

No, no, no... Me? I'm not sad... SAD is an acronym for "sucky ass day."

The following is bullshit that happened from 5AM to right before I posted this.

**********

I attempted to do my Western Civilization homework by waking up at 5 in the morning. The only problem was that I kinda DIDN'T HAVE MY BOOK...

So I couldn't look up the answers. So, I did what every person as smart as me would do: bullshitted my way through it and looked up the answers on the internet. This whole fiasco was a problem for two reasons. 1) It took extra time to Google and actually SEARCH for the answers (didn't get finished until like 6:45, 10 minutes before my ride [usually] comes); 2) I probably didn't get the answers that the teacher was looking for, since I had to rely on Wiki-fuckin'-pedia.
After completing the homework, I throw on a sub-fly outfit consisting of an adidas track top, adidas Superstar 2's, 511 Levi's, and the same white tee from yesterday (still relatively fly compared to most niggaz at the school). That outfit sucks balls... At least I got to brush my teeth. Whatever...

My ride calls me at about 7:07 (late as fuck) and tells me to wa

lk to his cousin's house (who literally lives right around the corner). I'm cool with that, aside from the lateness and whatnot. So, I get to his house and I end up waiting for about 10 minutes. When he pulls up, there is an individual whom I'm not particularly fond of in the passenger seat looking mad as fuck for some reason... Maybe he's still mad that he didn't graduate? I don't really give a fuck. We get to school at like 7:20 (school starts at 7:25), then I walk IN THE GRASS (WHICH WAS WET) to get to the door to avoid being tardy. I go through the metal detectors, greet the adults there... My shoes were grassy and shit... Whatever.
I get to class... e-mail the teacher my rushed, Wikipedia'ed work through SchoolLoop from my school-issued laptop... While on the SchoolLoop website, I notice that I have an F (a damn 37.5%) in American Government (the easiest class/easiest teacher I've ever had in high school thus far)... The F is a direct result of one of my group members plagarizing. FUCK! I was pissed, as you would guess. As I put my laptop back in my bag, I see that I had my Western Civilization textbook in my backpack the WHOLE DAMN TIME! I got heated for about 38 seconds, then I said "fuck it, at least it's done" (I may have literally said that out loud).

The teacher tells me that I have to take the Accuplacer college placement test again - Brief history about me and that bitch-ass test: I've taken it 3 times prior to this. You need 100 to pass (not 100%, but 100/120 on some kind of score thing). The first time I took it, I got a 60-something, the second time, I got an 88, and the third time, I blacked and just X'ed out the program while I was taking it (LMAO). At this point (early this morning) I didn't really give a flying rat's ass about this test. - Anyways, I was telling the teacher how I reeeealllly didn't wanna take the test... Then she explained to me that it was important, blah blah yadda yadda. I started thinking to myself, "I passed Pre-Calculus (a college course that I DIDN'T get college credit for due to this wack ass test), and I'm in trigonometry (possibly there would be trigonometry on the test), so I might do well on this test." ...That was kinda just my opimistic mindset talking...

So, I go down to the floor with the other group members and I'm chillin'. We go to the van and I text and I'm good. Walk into the KCKCC building and walk through the hallways, literally getting STARED DOWN by the students sitting the hallways. Whatever. We get to the testing center, start up, and I guess I was ready! This one stupid chick, who, for some reason, always is on field trips with me, is talking NON-STOP. Damn, man! Eventually, it ceased, and I was taking this test. I felt real confident with all of my answers, blazing through this shit. In my mind, I was like, "I got this! I'm too real for this shit, my nigga" (I really said that last part, and, in fact, I say that during all my tests that I take)! At the end of the test, I see that I got a 96... A NINETY-SIX. FOUR POINTS FROM PASSING THIS DAMN THING! FUCK! Who cares, though.

And on top of everything else, I'm in desperate need of a fuckin' haircut.

**********

I'm still here at the college, and I'm calm, but still. I hope things get better (even though it's not THAT bad). I'll just text Shi Reeves some more... Yeah. If you didn't know... I actually have her number and "we text occasionally". Dead ass, though. And that does, in fact, make me cooler than whoever is reading this. Hollah!

What buffoonery!

What the hell is this!?

So, I'm walking to my first block class, get in, take my seat, whatever. It's all good. My seat is placed so I can see people walk by the door. I'm reading my paper, everything is normal. I hear some obnoxious people out in the hallway... As I look up, I see one of the top 5 dusty ass niggaz in the school wearing [red] Hot Topic skinny jeans! Whatdafucknigga?!

I'VE NEVER WITNESSED SUCH BUFFOONERY IN ALL OF MY YEARS OF HIGH SCHOOL.

To make a long story short...

Niggaz (Chris Rock's definition of "nigga") ruin EVERYTHING! My, God...

...There's nothing else I can really say about that! And this bama is not the only nigga that is fucking up skinny jeans for all the REAL fly-minded people. I promise, I'll go to the 514, slim straight jeans if you niggaz keep it up. *Sigh...*

PUBLIC SERVICE ANNOUNCEMENT

I know that not everyone can afford to "get fresh" or "be fly" or whatnot... But c'mon, man. BE YOU. The main niggaz rockin' skinny jeans now are the same niggaz that talked shit on me wearing "those tight-ass jeans" either to my face or [most likely] behind my back! BE YOU! If you're a real gangsta (even though you're not), what would your superior say about you wearing skin tight jeans? BE YOU. And another thing, you can't change your [non-existent] style in one day... You're not fly if you come with a fresh outfit one day, then come back with ultra-baggy jeans and a 3XL tee (when, in actuality, you wear a large) the next day. That's not how it works. Damn, man, y'all fuckin' it up for everyone (like always!).

ANOTHER THING. I personally know the pressure that exists while being a fly person day-to-day. Seriously. There's lots of pressure that goes into being THAT [FLY] GUY, such as the constant need to go "all out" when you put your clothes on in the morning... Or people weirdly looking at you because you come to school quasi-fresh. This school year, I've decided to not give a fuck about it. I don't feel the need to get mega-fresh at school when I've done that for 3+ years. It doesn't mean anything... I have nothing to prove... In fact, I really had nothing to prove to begin with. The only exception to the fresh rule is at the mall, parties (never go to them), sporting events, concerts, etc. Essentially, I'll get fresh anywhere BUT school. LOL. Catch me at those times, you virtually have no chance of surpassing me in this fly shit, niggaz. But as for the skinny jean fiasco, I'm about to dress like Wale. Dead ass.

Thank you.

"I started this fly shit, and this is the muthafuckin' thanks I get!?"

Um...

FaceBook is ruining my life. Dead ass.

Every time I fucking look on there, I see something that makes me want to blog and vent on it... which isn't really a good thing, because, as of late, I've only been blogging when I'm stressed or angry.

But, I'm not gonna let this whole blog be about "her" (that's what it's headed for if I don't calm myself). I'll just make a few songs about it... I think I could actually make a whole mixtape about her. You know... good times, bad times? Intimate times? Oh, yes, there will be at least 3 songs that pertain to her in someway.

And this whole post is retarded, because I'm writing it KNOWING she'll read it at some point.

Whatever.

Oh, and if I have strep throat AGAIN... it's hell. For real, I'm fucking tired of that particular sickness.

This whole day sucks ass. I didn't get my LG Xenon today, either... Yes, I'm FINALLY upgrading from my "Cingular" (doesn't even exist any-damn-more) RAZR after nearly four years... If it doesn't come tomorrow, I'm going postal. Like the mailman... NIGGA. Ha. That made me smile. I crack myself up.

D to tha Elly.

Pigs.

Fuck all law enforcement "officials" (including law enforcement "officials" who happen to be related to individuals I know).

As stated before in this blog, this "fuck you" does not include the United States armed forces, detectives, the FBI, CIA, NSA, or the Secret Service. In my humble (but very true) opinion, they're the law enforcement agencies that actually mean any-fucking-thing.

An extra "fuck you" to security guards. Fucking rent-a-cops.

Suck my dick, bitch (that goes out to a certain female security guard who lives/lived next to my cousin).

Back atcha (and I pac[k] like "cap" backwards).

I'm still alive. Sorry, haters.

A lot has happened since my last post (obviously). Here's a very brief recap of things.

-Copped the Beats by Dr. Dre. That automatically makes me cooler than you... Or, way more than I was to begin with... Yeah.
-Multiple break-ups with you know who.
-The particular relative with the terminal illness passed away a couple of weeks or so after the entry I mentioned it in... So much for the 4-12 month period huh? Rest in peace. I still haven't been to the grave, though.
-Visited my father... Who fed me very well (LOL). So, yeah. Kinda not skinny anymore. Ugh.
-Went to Miami with my father... And now I have an interest in Central American females.
-I don't feel bad for "anything I did" in the summer, because it wasn't just me who wanted it.
-I'm still the illest rapper you've never heard of. Fuck you if you disagree.
-I want higher learning. Howard, Cornell, and Morehouse are among the top 3 (which one doesn't belong?).
-School started on the 17th. Niggaz tryna be the second coming of "Darnell" and shit. I'm not trippin' though, "'cause I been fly since I flew in."
-I still love Shi Reeves. My other wifey is Bria Myles. Damn... Her ass reminds me of someones...
-Me and my mother still disagree about damn near everything.

That's all I can think of. I'll be blogging more than before now. But, yeah. Whatever.

Oh, and if any of the above seems cynical in any way, it's because I'm such a jealous-ass nigga. And, I kinda don't give a fuck? Yeah. My personality and my looks/style make up for the jealousy (at least, it should). I guess it's mostly my fault, but, who cares. More on that later, though...

D.Linquent EP coming soon.
D.Linquent album on the way.
D.Linquent mixtapes coming with the quickness. Yes... Plural.

I'm out like regular skinny jeans. It seems the tighter the clothes, the flyer you are. Who cares if I wear super skinnies. So what. Ummm... more on that later, too.

I win.

(The thoughts of dozens of people after they discovered that I "rapped")

"This nigga? Tryna rap? ...HAHAHAHAHA! [He's not gonna make it ANYWHERE.] I mean, look at him... Glasses, tight pants, young ass shirt. He can't be serious."

(The following may offend some (most) people, but if it offends you, I probably don't like you anyways.)

So, what the fuck else do I have to do? By simply releasing (seriously, just by releasing) my first mixtape "The Previews," I exceeded all expectations. And, if people actually listen to that mixtape and "Weirdo," I'll exceed the expectations that I previously exceeded. Dead ass. I fucking released two mixtapes with a total of 51 tracks in a 6-month period. Sure, people have done more, but I'm a student, and people didn't (or don't) even see me as a rapper. Fuck them.

Personally, I think I have enough skill, talent, and creativity to be nationally known. Lyrically, there's NO QUESTION that I'm one of the best in this metropolitan area (FUCK WHAT YOU HEARD). I just need that one chance... That one shot to prove myself to everyone.

I mean, the masses don't really know me (yet), but look at all that's happened to me in the past year...

**********

-Exactly one year ago, I was a hobby rapper. Nothing more, nothing less. I had great lyrics, but lacked delivery and a personal style. That was essentially all that was missing. Still, I rapped solely as a hobby.

-Then, AJay contacted me, and we discussed how our partnership was going to work... And the rest is history. We had one recording session... I kept recording this same fucking verse OVER and OVER and OVER again until "I got it right." That's when my delivery became substantially better.

-After a series of unfortunate circumstances occurred (being sick for so long, among other things), we dropped "The Previews" mixtape. I gave it to everyone who was anyone at the school.

-Time passed... I kept fucking getting sick, having strep throat three times in 6 months, and I STILL dropped another mixtape before the end of the school year. AND that shit is HOSTED by a DJ. People give me beats and work with me because they like my music, my lyrics... I don't try to be something I'm not.

**********

I don't care, people can say I have a growing ego, but I don't care. I don't care if another rapper has put in more work than me, been shot a couple of times, been to jail, and claims a street as a gang. This rapper is more than likely not as good as me. As stated above, I don't pretend... I'VE NEVER LIED ON ANY OF MY TRACKS. EVER. It seems that staying truthful is hard, because I seem like the only one with the sack to be real publicly.

I didn't even ask for any of this... It just happened to me. I didn't even want AJay to be my manager at first. I didn't want anyone at my school to know I made music because I was scared of what they would say.

And, to the genuine, authentic haters? It's odd how you people are the ONLY ones who say I can't rap... I completely understand if you say you don't like the music, but it's fuckin' absurd to say that I "can't rap." Some of you haters were cool with me at first, then we had a falling out, then, all of a sudden, I "can't rap..." Or, your very popular friend likes my music, so that's why you like my music. That's stupid. And all of that's not to say that I'm just the God of Rap... I know what's what, who's where (status-wise), and how things are in this city (as far as rap is concerned). I know who not to cross (there's only a couple of them in this area code, though).

I don't even know why I'm addressing this bullshit.

I DO THIS FOR REAL. I WILL MAKE IT.

So, in this rap journey that all of us are participating in...

I WIN.

Flattered?

To expand on the end of the last post...

(I know you're reading this, too)

You're OD-ing on the stalking. It's not attractive. AT ALL. You're like Geico Kash looking at me all the time (and that sucks, because I love Geico). Notes and statuses about me on FaceBook, blogs about me on MySpace... QUIT! It's actually NOT flattering... It's more disturbing than anything.

AND...

STOP TALKING LIKE YOU KNOW ME. YOU CLEARLY DON'T.

You haven't even been around me for that long! And for the 3 month period that we WERE close (if you can even call it that)... What did you learn about me? That I like sex? That I'm half Filipino? That I have an ass fetish? I never opened up to you in any way, shape, form, or fashion. Stop acting like you know everything about me. You don't even know yourself, since you don't have a defined style or speech patterns. You don't know me. I'm more myself than I was when I was in fucking 8th grade. Lots has happened. And you weren't around to see any of it. So cut it the fuck out.

My only fear now is that you'll attempt to extort money from me when I make this rap shit.

Whaaaaaaatever.

Whaaaaaaatever...

After watching Seven Pounds when I was severely ill last week, I attempted to change my ways and be nicer to people... Unfortunately, some people [of a certain race] you just can't be nice to. It's impossible.

I'm just gonna let people find out drastic information on their own. I'm officially done with it.

Oh, and if [she] gets mad at me for this... All I can say is, "HOW IS THIS ANY DIFFERENT WHEN YOU TOLD ON ME OVER SOME BULLSHIT?" Exactly, it's NOT.

All I have to say about this whole situation is...

Mah-mah-say...
Mah-mah-sah...
Mah-mah-koo-sah...

It's official.

I'm officially right about EVERYTHING. EVERYTHING! Pissed is an understatement.
If these fuckin' people would listen to me from the start, then they wouldn't have these issues or look idiotic, dimwitted, etc.
And then these people act as if it just happens this way... I predicted it! I'm not exactly what you would call "psychic," but I have enough common sense to predict the [extremely obvious] near future.

I know it's almost 12:00am, but I just noticed how the previous school day put everything in perspective for me. I've always been somewhat of a loner, and now I guess I see it now more than ever. Perhaps it's because these people hate to see someone (me) right? And because I'm different? And I've always been overshadowed by others in some way, even though I was the innovator. AND... just because I'm not saying nigger (pardon me) type shit such as "point" and "cuzz," doesn't make me less of a human. In fact, it makes me MORE of a human.

A couple of songs on my mixtape will highlight some of these issues I have with these things I deal with in my life. No questions asked.

Thought Process...
They Say...

There's a few more, but they focus on other issues such as me hating certain situations I'm in, people starting ish, and (my favorite topic) people hating on me. This mixtape is doing a lot for me therapeutically.

Good night (but not really).

I hate high school...

I just got home from school...
Not in the happiest of moods at the moment...

You only go through high school once, and I realize this... But what I DIDN'T realize was how much drama, ignorance, stupidity, and (sorry, everyone) niggerness that high-school has to offer (until recently). Okay, I've put myself in a some of these predicaments, but whatever...

Here's the top two that I can think of right now...

1. All of these laptop "rappers" - pause... for those of you who do not know, that term defines a [usually crappy] emcee who constantly tries to be the next Lil Wayne, Gucci Mane, Soulja Boy etc. by recording [usually crappy] songs on their school issued MacBook computer. I record music on my laptop, and for two main reasons: 1) I would rather not use money on studio time, especially since I am currently unemployed. 2) I openly ADMIT that I use my laptop and don't have money like that. - The issue I have with these peons is that they think they're all that and then they send diss tracks to various rappers. I was a target of one of these tracks (I'm not getting into detail, because this individual is not worth having even {this much} space on my blog). The result, in a nutshell, was me completely obliterating this person on an a'cappella response, then this person starting getting ridiculous, spreading rumors and whatnot. I don't even fuckin' like Maino, but... HI, [retarded, ugly, morbidly obese] Hater! And, hi, [failure in life, non-fresh, every day relationship advice seeking, trying to fight but you go to church bi-weekly] Hater! That's all I'm saying about this situation unless further provoked. I'm done with it.

2. Relationship issues - I don't really feel like typing right now, so, long-story short, a girl has people watching me while she's not around. How [insert word of frustration here] is that!? I'm sick and tired of walking the hallways looking around to see if I'm being watched. This has been going on for a few months, and, quite frankly, it's getting extremely old.

...I'm seriously considering leaving this God-forsaken school in favor of a mostly Caucasian school.

I'm out like baggy clothes (I'll vent on style at another time).

Hold up!

Why the fuck am I getting frustrated for anyways? I'm me! Hahaha... In a few years, I'll be blogging about having too many groupies! *Thinks* AND, I got these! (Pictured below)Who cares if I overpaid, I still have them...