I love New York, more than ever. Since when, all lives matter became the new N word, in honor of Thug Lives Matter most.
What’s my crime prevention solution? Take away medicinal weed cards like recess passes next time Latrell Sprewell’s brother from another mother tries to choke out a pasty cop’s white privilege on the Lex line.
All of a sudden, Thugs Lives Matters most has a full-blown panic attack on the Subway.
I can’t be cut off from my Mango gummies homey.
Yolanda don’t like my skunk ass weed breath.
Edibles are ash free, plus, stink free which equals zero regrets.
And I’m not sharing a blunt with you after just coming out of the slammer, you monkey pox packing motherfucker.
The city always smelled like stale beer, especially around the lower east side, but not now it reeks of skunk weed, not the most flattering scents in the world.
I’d rather go down on Cardi Bi’s yeast infection.
Skunk City More Than Ever, Challah!
Thank you very much.