In response to post #81: http://www.thefastlaneforum.com/community/threads/i-am-buying-a-new-bugatti-and-i-will-post-pics.47828/page-4
It's funny. Looking back on the pain (I actually haven't gone back to read posts past July in this thread, 'cause it would only bring back bad memories and mess with my focus), I somehow knew it was coming... even four years ago. I made real money - serious money - for the first time in 2010, and it put me in a different stratosphere of potential good moves and bad moves. MJ has a thread on this site warning about the sorts of pitfalls, traps and utter nightmares you can fall into when you make money, and in retrospect, I didn't heed that advice nearly as seriously as I should have.
But it's actually a damn good thing everything happened. I now have an extremely realistic perspective of human nature, some of which is expressed in the above song, particularly near the end.
Understand: I live in the murder capital of the United States. They call Chicago Chiraq for a reason. More people die in the field than in Iraq. I'm around guys willing to sell anything, including their souls, to get this paper. I'm around guys risking 5 - 10 years in the pen to get this paper.
I am unique in this city. If anybody in the streets I'm directly or indirectly connected to had the mental ability I do, I know what they would do. They would hustle day and night. They'd bring a street hustler's mentality - get it, or die tryin' - to the corporate game, and they wouldn't stop until they're sitting on terrifyingly high piles of money. They wouldn't stop until every whip in the Lamborghini store downtown was parked in the driveway of their mansion. They wouldn't stop until all the hoes who ever played them were sorry.
Anyway, back to hate. I don't hate social media, I hate how people use it. I borderline hate a lot of the people on it. I hate the fakeness. I hate the pretenders.
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