According to someone, somewhere, something I'm doing right now is probably wrong and something about me is incorrect. A woman working. Twenty something and not married. Melanin infected. The nerve of me. My favorite thing about me is how great people hate that I am. It's you who thinks that I'm great, why get mad at me? Went with the family to Coldstone the other day and got shade from everyone behind the counter. Of all the places in the world, why is everyone at Coldstone mad at me? So I tipped them. They ain't sing to me, tho. G shit, I guess.
