Raps To Roast People Novels & Stories

"And make the shake thick." I turned to Raphael, who was standing three feet behind me, looking like a misplaced god in a world of plastic booths. "What do you want?" He looked at the grease glistening on the grill and curled his lip in genuine physical pain, "I don't put that disgusting, processed garbage into my body. It’s practically poison." "Suit yourself." I turned back to the cashier. "Just the one meal, please." The kid tapped on the screen, "That’ll be fifteen-fifty."

" Hi lovelies, it's your favorite chat buddy, BBB. Welcome to another session" " I know in the past month we have been talking about revenge body and how unjustly the world treats fat people" " Today I want us to talk about some wolves in sheep clothings" "I know someone who thinks charity work is just a photo op," I say. Camera zooms in on my face. "Someone who uses people for their own gain," I continue. My eyes blaze. "Roman Rogriguez, I'm talking to you," I spit. The video uploads. I add hashtags.

“Talk about my people that way again, and I'll make sure you don't have a mouth to talk anymore,” Rohan warned, then quickly added something as if he didn't want to lose his momentum. “Ah nah, just keep on talking, and everyone will know that you're like a shithead for an Alpha.”

It angered me so much, I wanted to give them a taste of their own medicine. "Hey rejects!" I instantly grab their attention. "You think it's funny to laugh at mates, where're yours then, huh?" Some of them stopped laughing, they were taken back at my remark. I continue. "There's a reason you're all rogues who don't have a place to call home and are living like shit. Think about that you fucking dipshits." And I top it off with the classic double flipping them off and a smug look.

Zhao dirty looks,' He'd frown and wave his head but I couldn't stop. The flow of words were splashing through my head and coming out my mouth uncontrollably. I couldn't stop. So after a few weeks, everybody just got used to it and expected it. I was entertaining them at first. Giving them something to listen to that wasn't so depressing and slow. So slowly I became known as Rapping Riley. It was a pretty unimaginative title but kids were high fiving me and beat boxing to my raps, so I didn't mind.

"You! Check on Fraser!" The man hurried to the door, peering outside before returning with a grim look in his eyes. "The bitch is right, boss. Fraser is dead." A smirk tugged at my lips as Rocco's facade of control began to crumble. "I'm much stronger than you think, Rocco," I taunted. "Not so little anymore, am I?" "I should have raped you bloody in that warehouse!" He roared. "You won't be so cocky if I'd done that now, would you?"

Before the scalper could fathom what had happened, a few of his teeth were knocked out. “Sir, why are you punching me?” The scalper was really clueless about the reason. Flying Rooster did not say much to him either. He just playfully explained, “No reason. I just hate scalpers. When I see scalpers, I want to punch them.” Was that a valid reason? Flying Rooster did not really care. He waved his hand, and the gangsters caught the scalpers on the audition site and kept beating them up one by one. Usually, when one of the scalpers was punched, others would step out and help.

Just keep holding their necks and keep selling them sex It's better if we keep them perplexed It's better if we make them want the opposite sex And disenfranchised young criminal minds In a car park beside where your nan resides Are not slow, they've just never been shown That you should be~" When the rap came up, I rap along with it. It's just I'm still in my loading state while waiting for the foods. I was nodding my head a little with the song while singing along with it. "Loving someone Oh, oh, loving someone Yeah, you should be loving someone Oh, oh, loving someone Oh, oh We're all human, we're just like you man We're sentient, or something or other

He said nothing until they were all seated, the rain still drumming like war drums on the roof. Then he spoke. “You have seen what happens to fools,” he laughed. “Kroos believed power was measured by how loud you shout. Marquez thought fear was a fortress. And where are they now?” A silence heavier than iron filled the room. None dared to answer. “They are gone. One rotting in a cell, the other waiting to be paraded like a trophy. The city celebrates. The people whisper of freedom. The press smells blood. And all of you…” The Boss's hands clasped, his rings gleaming. “…all of you sit at the edge of the same blade.”

“Do you know what I sacrificed for that car? What gives you the right to take it from me? Huh? What gives you the right? “All my life, if I wasn’t perfect, you beat me, starved me, called me worthless! When I started earning, I gave you ninety percent of my salary—but when I came home, you never even said a kind word to me! “I had a fever and no money for medicine, but you spent it on snacks for Ben. You told me my life was cheap. “Is that what I am to you? A tool to make money? Answer me! ANSWER ME!” She stabbed again. And again. Twenty years of buried agony erupted like a long-dormant volcano. And as its molten fury consumed everything in its path, the air turned thick with deathly silence