Waka Flocka Flame Broiled.



Written by Esquire
Tuesday






This morning I awoke and recollected nothing, absolutely nothing.  I looked around my apartment and realized everything was too perfectly in place. I thought to myself The drunk version of me cant possibly be this good can he? I instantly got that nervous feeling, but I was at ease once I saw my wallet and iphone neatly placed on my counter. I then made moves to the fridge. Again, everything looked proper. And then of course I opened the garbage and saw this above. What the fuck a flame? I have no recollection what so ever, but it is clear I made a trip to the BK at some point in my drunken escapade. What did I even order? I have no fucking clue. Was the meal any good? I sure hope so. Was the Black Keys concert any good? Again, I sure hope so. I am a real piece of work sometimes. It's so weird because I usually remember everything - This last statement is completely false but it's what I keep telling myself. I suppose that's how you Monday? Dear god, help me... Flocka!

Note: This song is real grimey, son. Burger King.
      ♬ Hard in da paint.

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Appies All The Time. Snack well, friend.