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"Damn it." "What?" "The zipper's stuck." Footsteps sounded, and the curtain pulled back. "There's a salesperson two feet away." Caleb looked at Arian, alarmed. "Let him." "Arian!" "Stay still." He stepped closer than the zipper required. Close enough that Caleb forgot what he'd meant to say next. "Are you...

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When Henry sang this, he had no idea how little time he had left. Look at him. Eighteen. His whole life still ahead of him in his own mind and not one person in that room at the end could see what you can see right now. A boy worth everything. Because look what they did to him. He was stabbed in the street. He told the police he couldn't breathe nine times. He told them he'd been stabbed. They didn't believe him. They cuffed him face down and treated the dying victim as the criminal, while the man who knifed him was walked inside and allowed to choose his food. Henry died in handcuffs. Alone. Surrounded by the people who killed him and the people who were meant to save him. Now watch the POLICE crawl out of it. First it was a confusing, fast-moving situation. Now, suddenly, it's he'd have died anyway. In a week they went from we did nothing wrong to it wouldn't have mattered what we did. That's not an explanation. That's a confession in slow motion. This is what two-tier policing looks like in the flesh and when the country dared to be angry about it, the government's answer was to tell us to calm down. To call our grief a dangerous undercurrent. Understand this. Cold rage isn't a riot. It's the opposite. It's anger that stays controlled, clear-eyed, and never forgets. That's what they're so frightened of. Not a mob. A country that remembers. But don't let them have the last word on Henry. The last word is this. A boy singing about looking up at the stars and how they shine for someone you love. He didn't get to grow up. He didn't get the dignity he was owed. But the whole sky was his, and millions of us are looking up now and seeing him in it. They looked at Henry and couldn't see a single light. So we'll shine for him instead. His name was Henry Nowak. Look how he shines.

BanksyCat

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Oh lovely. This is a beautiful high school Christmas performance. A classic rendition of ‘Innit’ by BunnaB and YKNIECE. (Lyrics below. Read at your own discretion.) Yo YK Yeah Bunna talk to these mothafuckin' people What the fuck goin' on They been asking for this shit we gotta give it to 'em They been wantin' on this shit Let's ride then Bunna I'm talk 'bout innit (I'm talk 'bout innit) And if he want the cat, he gotta spend it (He gotta spend it) He claim he smack this shit no he didn't (Know he lyin') Can't be runnin' 'round the city like we did it (What the fuck) Droppin' salt, why you fuckin' up my image (Up my image) Can't let him hit it cause he tryna tell the business Hmmm, won't fuck him, won't suck him, can't kiss him Can-can-can't let him hit it cause he tryna tell the business Hmmm, won't fuck him, won't suck him, can't kiss him (at all) They know this pussy like a faucet (I'm talm 'bout faucеt) I throw this wham all on his body (Ooh) He eat this shit, I'm talm 'bout sloppy (I'm talm 'bout sloppy) This nigga beggin' me to stop it (Why he beg) I like to ride it (Like to ride), I'm talm 'bout rodeo (I'm talm 'bout rodeo) That's my shit (Huh), and I'm his ho He mine, I'm his, he nutted, couldn't last in it It's wet, got grip, feel good, come slide in it Throw it, throw it, throw it, throw that wham Shake it, shake it, shake it around You better throw it in a circle (Throw it) Nut in it, boy, you know this pussy fertile (This shit so fertile) And if he want the cat, he got to spend it (He got to spend it) He claimed he smacked this shit, no he didn't (Know he lyin') Can't be runnin' 'round the city like we did it (What the fuck) Droppin' salt, why you fuckin' up my image (Up my image) Can't let him hit it, 'cause he tryna tell the business Hmmm, won't fuck him, won't suck him, can't kiss him Can-can-can't let him hit, cause he tryna tell the business (Mhm) Hmmm, won't fuck him, won't suck him, can't kiss him (At all) He say I'm pretty If you love me better die for this kitty Itty bitty titty committee Ain't got chest but throwin' ass in the city Big booty, peanut butter thicky Chocolate like a candy bar and this shit so sticky (I'm talm 'bout sticky) He like it and he wanna wife it How many times I gotta say its like a faucet (I'm talm 'bout water) Throw it, throw it, throw it, throw that wham Shake it, shake it, shake it around You better throw it in a circle (Throw it) Nut in it, boy, you know this pussy fertile (This shit so fertile) And if he want the cat, he got to spend it (He got to spend it) He claimed he smacked this shit, no he didn't (No he didn't) Can't be runnin' 'round the city like we did it (What the fuck) Droppin' salt, why you fuckin' up my image Can't let him hit it, 'cause he tryna tell the business Hmmm, won't fuck him, won't suck him, can't kiss him Can-can-can't let him hit, cause he tryna tell the business Hmmm, won't fuck him, won't suck him, can't kiss him
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Oh lovely. This is a beautiful high school Christmas performance. A classic rendition of ‘Innit’ by BunnaB and YKNIECE. (Lyrics below. Read at your own discretion.) Yo YK Yeah Bunna talk to these mothafuckin' people What the fuck goin' on They been asking for this shit we gotta give it to 'em They been wantin' on this shit Let's ride then Bunna I'm talk 'bout innit (I'm talk 'bout innit) And if he want the cat, he gotta spend it (He gotta spend it) He claim he smack this shit no he didn't (Know he lyin') Can't be runnin' 'round the city like we did it (What the fuck) Droppin' salt, why you fuckin' up my image (Up my image) Can't let him hit it cause he tryna tell the business Hmmm, won't fuck him, won't suck him, can't kiss him Can-can-can't let him hit it cause he tryna tell the business Hmmm, won't fuck him, won't suck him, can't kiss him (at all) They know this pussy like a faucet (I'm talm 'bout faucеt) I throw this wham all on his body (Ooh) He eat this shit, I'm talm 'bout sloppy (I'm talm 'bout sloppy) This nigga beggin' me to stop it (Why he beg) I like to ride it (Like to ride), I'm talm 'bout rodeo (I'm talm 'bout rodeo) That's my shit (Huh), and I'm his ho He mine, I'm his, he nutted, couldn't last in it It's wet, got grip, feel good, come slide in it Throw it, throw it, throw it, throw that wham Shake it, shake it, shake it around You better throw it in a circle (Throw it) Nut in it, boy, you know this pussy fertile (This shit so fertile) And if he want the cat, he got to spend it (He got to spend it) He claimed he smacked this shit, no he didn't (Know he lyin') Can't be runnin' 'round the city like we did it (What the fuck) Droppin' salt, why you fuckin' up my image (Up my image) Can't let him hit it, 'cause he tryna tell the business Hmmm, won't fuck him, won't suck him, can't kiss him Can-can-can't let him hit, cause he tryna tell the business (Mhm) Hmmm, won't fuck him, won't suck him, can't kiss him (At all) He say I'm pretty If you love me better die for this kitty Itty bitty titty committee Ain't got chest but throwin' ass in the city Big booty, peanut butter thicky Chocolate like a candy bar and this shit so sticky (I'm talm 'bout sticky) He like it and he wanna wife it How many times I gotta say its like a faucet (I'm talm 'bout water) Throw it, throw it, throw it, throw that wham Shake it, shake it, shake it around You better throw it in a circle (Throw it) Nut in it, boy, you know this pussy fertile (This shit so fertile) And if he want the cat, he got to spend it (He got to spend it) He claimed he smacked this shit, no he didn't (No he didn't) Can't be runnin' 'round the city like we did it (What the fuck) Droppin' salt, why you fuckin' up my image Can't let him hit it, 'cause he tryna tell the business Hmmm, won't fuck him, won't suck him, can't kiss him Can-can-can't let him hit, cause he tryna tell the business Hmmm, won't fuck him, won't suck him, can't kiss him

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80,608 просмотров • 8 месяцев назад