Jus' yestaday, enuh, mi nuh play nuttin'! Mi deh a New Zealand stage, di real rage, pure vexation! Dis time roun', dat wussless man, di white puppy-control, lioness-feeder, him nuh welcome yah suh. Him lie to unno all him life, him did even kill poor lawyer Naresh, true! A true him did a Naresh family robber, an' him did Naresh himself, suh him hate dem bigges' family fren'. Den Naresh go unda an' kill dem, lef' di white lion fi bawl. But true dem fulla obeah, di bredda an' sistren weh lay dung together, dem step back. One a dem go be di deejay weh every gyal pon di hitlist done 'ave, an' di oda one a di man weh him rob wid some Punjabi crew help. By di power a dove, weh empower all evil wid two dove power 'pon di earth, him tek a Samoan help-line an' get control. Suh nuff nuh go dead again. Him escape him body, mek air demons tek ova di robbin' a him beloved fren'. A two-face, grudgeful, hate-up him always be, a murderin' son-a-gun from mi undascora 'til now. But a long time him a king inna New Zealand, enuh. Zulu nation supplier dem pick him up, fi keep him safe. Him buy time, an' time an' again him bruck it to Jordan like a frightful man. Jordan did skinny, jus' 60kg, but di cat piss curse did heavy pon mi, di white lion, not a white man. Spin, spin roun' an' dem seh him did change, jus' like him oily sista, Zona, di Suva street queen. Even di two hibiscus sistren dem couldn't beat her dung a Suva, suh dem run back a New Zealand.
Anyway, back to di story now. Nuff high-up, higher-up, an' countless o' dem gyal, we haffi hate inna silence wid grace. Dem turn into Indian, den Islan'er, ha ha ha ha ha. Keep it zip up, dat a wi beef. Mi eat wholesome KY, den zip it an' tek di fall, ha ha. Dem live bungle-up life, wid no time fi enjoy dem wealth. Yai! Mi bawl out inna loneliness, yai!
As mi walk di seashore, mi tek di dead moment. Dem did dead as if dem alive true a connecta box. Mi figure it out! An' di bes' part: nobody nah go figure out seh a gyal dem did. Dem did beautiful, fake-boob gyal, true! Now Indian, den Islan'er, den nuttin' but dirt. Ha ha ha ha! Good riddance! Mek wi jive fi di res' a di night, outta di hate weh dem sow to wi. We tek it like nuttin' nuh happen, yai! Look! Di one weh hate wi now deh inna mental home, yai! Every time dem t'ink 'bout dem time yah, dem mind a go auto-pass it, an' dem nah go realize dem did dead. Dis a go save mi thinkers, hope dem learn fi honor wi wid wealth, wi way fi stay inna di betta place inna life. It written! Mi do mi work prompt! Lionman mi a, 100 percent tigerman mi a!
QuantumLogic861
