Spenser more shit that don t make you money

Categories :. I sat on a bar stool and stretched out my leg, pulling up the sweatpants to examine the new scar. What started out as a joke landed seventeen-year-old Dillon Yates in a lockdown juvenile facility in Boston Harbor. There is a cute cover illustration—a bright pink piggy bank with a bill around its snout. Nobody in his corner.

Hey man, get the door. These mother fuckers think it’s CVS around this bitch. Tell him we ain’t ’bout that shit. Yo, who is it? Uhh, Nick. Yo, nigga, what up? Oh, nothin’.

The Spenser Novels 16-21

Sign In Don’t have an account? Start a Wiki. Don’t Let the Money Make You. You must enable javascript to view this page. This is a requirement of our licensing agreement with music Gracenote. All the money that you guys are talkin’ about?

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Hey man, get the door. These mother fuckers think it’s CVS around this bitch. Tell him we ain’t ’bout that shit. Yo, who is it? Uhh, Nick. Yo, nigga, what up? Oh, nothin’. Why you come to this mother fucker so early all the time, man? You-you said 1 o’clock. I don’t give a fuck what I said, nigga. I don’t get out the bed before two-thirty. Spenser more shit that don t make you money come through this mother fucker so early next time, nigga.

Let’s see what’chu got. Ain’t ’bout to count no money, ain’t sellin’ no dope. Don’t bring me no bag, I want a envelope.

Ain’t ’bout to count no money, nah, ain’t sellin’ no dope. Ain’t no disrespect, well maybe it is. Ain’t no trappin’ here, well look here now, bitch. Ain’t no Oxycotin, no coke or no fizz. Have you forgotten who the fuck that I is? Trap or die, that’s a lie, niggas fry or testify. Super fly, get super high, jigga boo shit, supersize. Niggas do shit and justify. You can do shit and get euthanized.

I could do shit, that’s no surprise. Serve your ass, two piece and fries. You niggas high as fuck, got slow reaction. I done sobered up and I’m down for action. And I fuck you up, if you come ’round askin’. Don’t try to play me like I’m Anglo-Saxon. You a mouse in a trap house, I’m a dog in a cat house. I’m comin’ like Harriet Tubman, you comin’ like Harry the drug man.

Some niggas don’t give a fuck, man, ’bout they own people sufferin’. Talkin’ ’bout that they strugglin’, made somethin’ from nothin’. I’ma kill me a dope dealer. I’ma douse me a trap house. Who let the dogs out? I’ma make niggas crawl. I’ma make niggas call out to Jesus and they momma. Right before they vomit blood out they stomach.

This for my auntie, she smoked your shit daily. And this’ll make you crumble, yeah, just like it did my uncle. And this’ll make you meet your maker, understand that he’s the baker. Got your ass on the slab now you the dope for the undertaker. Don’t bring me no bag. You-you a mouse in a trap house, I’ma dog in a cat house. You a mouse in a trap house, I’ma dog in a cat house. Everythangs Corrupt. That New Funkadelic. Arrest The President. Good Cop Bad Cop. Woodstock ’99 Live.

Nobody Wants to Die. The Priority Years. Remain Calm.

Everything had to be perfect for a scholarship. I turned my chair as I listened and could see the morning traffic on Berkeley. Spencer and baseball, one of his first loves. Welcome. In this installment of the Spenser series, Spenser is hired to find out if Boston’s star pitcher, Marty Rabb, is «fixing» games when he pitches. His dad wore a suit. Find out the history of this project The Story of Bullets and Beer. Start a Wiki. I opened it. First, there is a grad-student paper called OUTrageous, which has been outing gay people on campus and off. You don’t care if people are annoying.