The Brooklyn rhymer continues to mine this dynamic on follow-up songs like Dior and PTSD, ingesting rumbles of future bass and spitting out lines like, Niggas always talkin hot and runnin they mouth/Until I kick down they door and run in they house/Have they mother on the floor with the gun in her mouth/Like, Whats that shit up on the net your son was talkin bout? When explaining how he started rhyming, Pop repeats the platitude that when youre a kid from the hood, youve only got three options: play ball, sell drugs or rap
I hope other pharmacies follow CVSs lead
In the cigar vs cigarette contest, the former wins major coolness points
Even non-smokers may not be spared the deadly risks of tobacco smoke
The Appellate Courts ruling established that employers have a duty to protect their employees families from foreseeable harm
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