p.e. baby. yeah boi! i used to listen to fear of a black planet on my discman, smoking parliament lights out of my bedroom window late at night. why did rap music speak so clearly to my white, suburban, upper-middle class chick ass? not entirely sure. but it did, and it still does.
don't believe the hype
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Bass/How low can you go? Death row/what a brotha know?
Sup, home…
also for the record, i had a little mermaid wall clock that i’d string up and hang around my neck. ahh ahhh ahhhhhh ahhhhhhh!