Na everything i read for Social-Studies they happen to me now.
Begging
Insufficient funds
High cost of living
Peer pressure
Gambling and internet addiction.
Your mama sell akara of 20–₦50 take send all five of una go university, but when girl sell wig of ₦50k+ take sponsor herself through school, una go quickly label am olosho.
Your mama really need explain how she take run am.
The market woman I buy foodstuff from doesn’t even ask “do you have cash” anymore, she just points at her OPay sticker. That’s the real proof of adoption, not the ads, just ordinary people trusting it enough to build it into how they sell. What’s an everyday moment that made OPay click for you? Register here: https://t.co/lH2e6nh0DN #OPayisOkay
T PAIN JUST BASHED ON ARTISTS COMPLAINING THAT RECORD LABELS ARE CONTROLLING THEM
T-Pain just went OFF on a podcast and said what a lot of people been thinking but scared to say out loud about Record Labels controlling artist.
“Y’all keep crying ‘my label is controlling me’ like y’all some hostages. Bro… they gave you $10 million. You showed up with nothing, no real movement, no real product that moves the needle, and now you mad they won’t just let you walk free while still owing them?
You didn’t contribute nothing. Your shit flopped. That money wasn’t free. It was an investment. And when the investment don’t pay back, they ain’t about to smile and sit back watching everything go wrong. That’s not control… that’s business. You think they supposed to just watch their money burn and say ‘do you, king’? Hell no.”
He basically told these artists: stop playing victim. Labels ain’t the problem when you brought zero and still expect full freedom after they put the bag up.
Cold. Necessary. And he said it with his chest.
Written anonymously
𝐅𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐳𝐢𝐞𝐝 𝐅𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐟𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧
𝘒𝘦𝘯𝘺𝘢 𝘮𝘦𝘦𝘵𝘴 𝘚𝘰𝘶𝘵𝘩 𝘈𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘤𝘢 𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘊𝘢𝘱𝘦 𝘛𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘴
The bass from Long Street was still vibrating in my bones when his hand closed around my wrist.
Njeri. 30. Married. Nairobi waiting for me on Sunday.
Sipho. 34. Cape Town born and raised. Voice like dark honey and gravel.
He didn’t ask. He just pulled me through the side door of the club, up two flights of stairs, into a storage room that smelled of old speakers and spilled gin.
The second the door locked his mouth was on mine, hungry, messy. My back hit the wall.
His thigh forced my legs apart. One rough hand dragged my dress up. Fingers found me already dripping. He laughed against my neck.
“Look at this, already ruined and we haven’t even started.”
He dropped to his knees right there, yanked my panties to the side and buried his face between my thighs.
Tongue flat, then pointed, then sucking hard on my cl!t until my knees gave out and I came with a broken cry, flooding his mouth while the music downstairs shook the floor.
He stood, spun me, bent me over a stack of crates and pushed inside in one deep, claiming stroke.
No warm-up. Just thick South African heat stretching me open while he growled in my ear,
“Hold on. This is going to be a long Friday.”
When you turn off your bathroom light and still see someone standing in the mirror for a split second, Don’t turn the light back on!!
Because if the figure disappears before the mirror goes dark, it was never inside the reflection.
Rick Ross Slams 50cent with a $100 million dollar lawsuit for defamation of character and career.
In recent interviews, Ross said “I know my man been running his mouth up on socials, I want to see his reaction now, Pay me my money you fool”
There has been no reaction from the veteran artist 50cent since his lawyers received the lawsuit.