If delusion doesn’t defer dreams or disrupt destinies, what’s this? Because obviously, many mentally ill, miserable, meddlesome motherfuckers are agonizing from failures involving their inability to tear me down. Dreaming of destroying deity-like dominance doesn’t go well without God’s good graces, does it? So, y’all dumbly discerned that it was your destiny to disrupt mine? Stupid-ass motherfuckers, delusional dummies, sit the fuck down and shut the fuck up—or stand for something significant! For the record, foolish folks’ feelings will be irreparably injured! Also, any aspirations toward thwarting this turnaround shall be addressed accordingly. Additionally, all antagonistic assholes and insensitive instigators pretending propriety and politeness, fuck you! Conspirators and co-conspirators, you’re in the motherfuckin’ way! How long did you simple-minded simpletons think you’d sit still, stalling stupidity’s suppression, stealing someone smart’s space, and stopping everyone’s evolution? Get the fuck out of here! Anyhoo, Surf, sup? Welcome home! And don’t diss me, because my mood may make me say something super spicy. And we all know how sensitive some “real niggas” are—like bratty bitches with big beards and beer bellies. Stay safe, sir. Hip hop has hurt and hindered many more men than it’s saved—like popular podcasters. And rappers rarely realize how relentlessly retarded they are until it’s too late. Y’all, when G.G. got popped by the punk-ass police with pharmacy pills, I was nurturing an intensely irritating injury—wondering if morphine would work in stopping some suffering. I was in plenty of pain, and I even searched “morphine pills,” later learning that time would help heal my muscle strain—waiting was my best bet. It took three total weeks before I could comfortably squat with weight. Whole time, the Feds’ flunkies kept alluding to my muscular mishap. Coincidence or cinema? You be the judge. In the prior published post, when I said, “Somebody, somewhere knows exactly who I am!”, I meant me! There’s nothin’ nobody can tell me about me! Your Honor, proper procedure in common court cases is to stay silent while litigation lingers, right? But why? Why is telling the truth tsk-tsk? Win or lose, the world will know, for a full fuckin’ fact, that their favorite famous folks fuck with the Feds and intensify illusions. I couldn’t care less about commonality in court cases when there’s nothing common about anything happening here. All y’all are stupid as fuck! Degrees don’t do dummies justice, do they? But justice, justice does to dummies what degrees do for dummies. You’ll figure that out soon enough. Moving on, do you know why you’re so evil, envious, and eager to end my excellence? It’s because my immense influence’s overt omnipresence regularly, repetitively reminds you that you ain’t shit! You’ve spent your entire existence chasing a cookie-cutter image, frantic to match molds, with your weak asses, and you’re hurt and hindered by Beau’s bountiful brain. Like I said, copying my content, stealing my style, lying like your lives are on the line, slandering me and defaming my character, won’t help heighten your headspace. You clearly don’t carry the cognitive capacity to create change, ’cause you can’t even be your motherfuckin’ selves! Fuck y’all—all y’all! But whatever. Chloe, hi! And happy belated birthday. You stay on my totally taken-over timeline, but I ain’t mad at it. You’re cute, cool, curvaceous… I’ll stop. Do y’all want to hear a joke? I’m fixin’ to freestyle this motherfucker, too. So, a bad bitch and a bald-headed birdbrain walk into a bustling bar. The bald-headed birdbrain chirps to the bad bitch, “It’s a lot of bad bitches here.” Then, the bad bitch barks, “Wow, look how much hair he has.” Afterwards, the bald-headed birdbrain grabs the bad bitch’s wig, places it on his head, then sassily struts to the bushy bargoer and says, with a feminine flair, “Hey, my man said hi.” , as he points to the bad bitch. The bad bitch laughs and leaves. Later, the bald-headed birdbrain is exposed for having homosexual situationships with several sirs. Wait, maybe this is only funny to me. But soon…
Omniscience