In any event... enjoy:
You Know What REALLY Grinds My Gears? (2)
YOU KNOW WHAT REALLY GRINDS MY GEARS?
People Who Are Confused About Blackness: You know, I'm tired of addressing this shit. Being a rapper, being poor, being ignorant, going to a HBCU does not make you black. You're black because that's what your skin color is. Now, I used to have this same bullshit-thinking so it's not like I don't know why certain people have this mindset, but seriously, stop the bullshit. Just because I choose to wear my jeans baggy, or rock fitteds, or whatever else is the stereotypical wear for black people is not because I'm black, it's just my personal style. Now if you happen to be the type of individual who likes to rock straight-leg jeans and glittery Jim-Jones type rock star shirts, then that's on you fam. But to say that one is MORE black than the other is bullshit. And you niggas need to understand that. It's simply ignorance at its finest. I used to have a lot of white friends. Now I don't. Not because I suddenly said one day "oh shit, I'm black, so I should have nothing but black friends." It's simply because I don't have white friends anymore. There's no rationale for why it is that way. That doesn't mean I look down on people who hang out with white people. Be friends with people who entertain you and who have your back. I'm so tired of hearing about REAL brothas or REAL sistas like only niggas who fit the stereotypes of what people assume Blackness is, IS what Blackness is. And that's bullshit. I'm not loud and ignorant. I don't go out and curse out people in public. I don't listen to all this wack ass rap music on the radio and on BET. Tell me I'm not black and I will definitely give you a lesson in Black history, homie. I dare anybody to test me about my heritage and you will return back to your roach-infested domicile with a sullen look on your face. Now, see that was wrong of me. I shouldn't assume that all black people live in a house with roaches, and neither should they assume that because I'm black I think Young Berg is the illest rapper since Nas back in '94.
YOU KNOW WHAT REALLY GRINDS MY GEARS?
People Who Ask You Why You Ate the Last of Something. It's the last fucking piece. How else could I NOT eat the last of it? If there's one piece of chicken left and I eat it, what did you expect? You want me to just cut it in half and save the bones and the breading for you? I mean, what the fuck? If there's a cup of juice left and I happen to want a cup of juice, wouldn't it only make sense that I'm going to drink the last of it? Did you REALLY want me to save you a half cup of juice? Because that shit would piss me off. I'd hate to come home and there be a half cup of juice left. What kinda shit is that? You gonna leave me a corner instead of just drinking the last of it? That's bullshit, for real.
YOU KNOW WHAT REALLY GRINDS MY GEARS?
People Who Eat Off Your Plate. ARE YOU FUCKING SERIOUS? Did you just take a bite outta my sandwich? No, you didn't. Ain't no way in hell you had the audacity to take a bite out of MY double cheeseburger. I don't give a damn if it was just a dollar, it's MINE. I mean, how rude can you be? I don't know where your nasty ass mouth has been. For all I know you like to suck the rust off of old prostitutes. Then you gonna put your dingy ass lips on my burger? You done lost your damn mind. How about this? Take your broke ass down to McDonalds and get one yourself. Inconsiderate ass motherfucker.
YOU KNOW WHAT REALLY GRINDS MY GEARS?
Dry-ass Coleslaw. You motherfuckers at Chick-Fil-A got one more time to give me some dry coleslaw and we gonna have problems. I'm over here choking on cabbage because you don't know how to give me enough of whatever it is that makes coleslaw wet. So please, next time, hook a brotha up with some non-dry coleslaw. I appreciate it.
YOU KNOW WHAT REALLY GRINDS MY GEARS?
People Who Rush You. I mean, I'm going as fast as I can. The other day I'm at work and my sister is calling me every five minutes telling me to hurry up so SHE can go. I didn't ask you to go come and get me. How you gonna do somebody a favor but whine and bitch about it? You coulda kept your ass where you were. And it's not like I'm sitting down and we watching old episodes of Living Single or some shit. WE'RE WORKING! You think I'm tryna be at work any more than I have to? Obviously I'm coming, so why you gonna keep calling talking about "will you hurry up?" like I'm just sitting there taking as long as possible because I just LOOOOOVE working so much. I'm tryna go home too, so what logic is that? Or what about when you tell somebody you gonna be late and they STILL rush you? Didn't I just tell your dumb ass I'ma be late? So why are you still trying to rush me so I get there on time? If I could rush and be there on time, I wouldn't have called and said I was gonna be late. Obviously I'm rushing NOW and I'm not gonna be there on time. So stop rushing me. I'll be there when I get there. How's that for a time?
YOU KNOW WHAT REALLY GRINDS MY GEARS?
Foot Locker Customers (Part 2). NO, YOU CAN'T GET MY DISCOUNT, NIGGA! I WORK here, so that's why I get 30% off. You don't, so you have to pay full price. Stop asking me that shit. Can I come down to your job and just get 30% off? I bet like hell I can't. I don't care if you're joking, it fucking irritates me. Sir, why do you keep pulling on the door after we've said we're closed? We not gonna let you in. We're trying to go home. No, you can't just look around while I'm sweeping. What the fuck are you talking about? But you're gonna sit there like a dumb ass for the next five minutes looking through the glass like I'ma just let you in, well guess what? I'm not. So keep sitting there, you stupid ass, because I'ma keep acting like I don't see you, fam. What you mean why don't we have your size? Because somebody got there before you! You act like they sent us every size except yours. Stop with the bullshit. There are 498,382,920,402,199,521,678 other Foot Lockers in the world, so go there and get YOUR size. Stop acting like this is the only sneaker spot in the United States.
...and that's what really grinds my gears. Back to you, Tom.
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