R.I.P. Whitney Houston
- Thread starter mrtonguetwista
- Start date
look young thats my mom who died, I'm a clown & play my part and can still clown with love...My uncle died recently from dope and we all clowned but still love him a lot...He woulda clowned along with us over whatever he could too...some folks operate differently. Now would I had know Whitney was your mom I mighta been more sensitive...my point is I dont know her and what I say here has no barring or shows no disrespect to her immidiete fam but if you wanna know the truth....I dont really give a fuck about the beezee...ya she was a dope ass singer but had the chance at health none of us had with her money and chose dope.... starving ass kids in Africa coulda used that paper.
now im really not trippin on her as only god is her judge but this is the siccness not the poetry network RIP to the beezie but thats it...she dont make me none!
hows the crack game in 'stralia breh.
if she lived in my city, with her bad habit, with out her money, id know where she'd be at, and them people dont get much respect in society. thats just reality my dude. ask somebody in Oakland, or SF. luckily she's more special cus she had pipes. no pun intended.
if she lived in my city, with her bad habit, with out her money, id know where she'd be at, and them people dont get much respect in society. thats just reality my dude. ask somebody in Oakland, or SF. luckily she's more special cus she had pipes. no pun intended.
lol @ this quote from this article
http://www.ew.com/ew/article/0,,1078742,00.html
Being Bobby Brown reminds me of that old Joan Jett song ''I Hate Myself for Loving You.'' Like a destructive relationship you can't bring yourself to end, the show seduces you with its toxic charms. Changing the channel isn't an option. Not after Bobby discusses using his fingers to help wife Whitney Houston with her constipation: ''That turd was too big!'' (Insert the sound of me desperately sobbing here.) Or after Whitney, during one of her frequent and unpredictable mood swings, snaps, ''Bobby, I will knock the s--- out of you,'' in the middle of a romantic meal. Still, just because you can't stop drinking in the horror doesn't mean you won't feel a little hungover by the time the credits roll.
http://www.ew.com/ew/article/0,,1078742,00.html
Being Bobby Brown reminds me of that old Joan Jett song ''I Hate Myself for Loving You.'' Like a destructive relationship you can't bring yourself to end, the show seduces you with its toxic charms. Changing the channel isn't an option. Not after Bobby discusses using his fingers to help wife Whitney Houston with her constipation: ''That turd was too big!'' (Insert the sound of me desperately sobbing here.) Or after Whitney, during one of her frequent and unpredictable mood swings, snaps, ''Bobby, I will knock the s--- out of you,'' in the middle of a romantic meal. Still, just because you can't stop drinking in the horror doesn't mean you won't feel a little hungover by the time the credits roll.