Fucking Tired (Weak Chest)

Because dead ass. I love blogging. And I cant do it because I have reherse, spit, and get to the club on time.
I eventually knew I would have to travel into the realm of adulthood. But I'm a child at heart that means sans 9 to 5 or any job I got to work 8 hours. Alast I got to work to look fly because I going on a block money strike. Except from the dudes that make it rain on me.
So I need to make enuf money to pay bills my poetry bookings dont cover. And besides that I want to buy a house in Honduras so I saving my money hard body. Then there is the book, the LP, the publishing company and the record label.
And if somewhat important to me you know I'm suffering from an affliction that makes it hard for me to breath let alone. Stand on my feet and climb poles all night. Thank you Newpipe and the World Health Organization. For all the cancer patients you have produced.
The only thing good I can say about that is that I debuted at Bada Bing's Gentlemen's Club and was recieved very lovingly by bartenders and customers...Made sum decent guap for it to be a Monday night.
I'm off to Philly this Friday for the R.A.N.D.O.M. showcase. Got to get sum fly kicks and sum gold leggings because I'm the feature. Yayyy!!!
Watever God is in attendance I want to thank him because I really blew up since I've been on my open mic and slam bizness. I'm getting booked sum serious paper for a chick who can barely memorize her shit. I think my Grandpa watching over me...for real thank u Mr. Dean