"Fuck lil wayne", the words escaped Dwayne Carter, known everywhere else as Lil Wayne's, lips as he
read them aloud on his favorite music site SputnikMusic, his body trembling and sweat dripping down
his heavily-tattooed face. He scooted his chair back from the computer and walked around in circles,
rubbing his temples. "Calm down, calm down," he tried reassuring himself, "You're Lil Tunechi,
remember? You can get through this, just smoke a nice blunt and fuck Nicki and this will all be in
the past. Right, I mean...right?"
Later that night, he was just sitting on the edge of his bead, wearing his new Hot Topic skater's
backpack and colorful hat, staring at his wall, looking completely devoid of any life or normal jump
to his step he normally ha. Drake walked up to him and sat down, "...W-Weezy? You okay? You've been
acting off all day. Me and Gudda are starting to get worried."
"It's a'ight," Weezy's raspy, syrup-drenched voice said in a monotone voice, "I've just...I've just
been needing to think thinks over, you know? I'll hit you up later." Drake nodded slowly, worry
still in his eyes as he left and closed the door behind him. Lil Wayne buried his face on his hands
and whispered desperately, "Why, J0ckstraps...why?"
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