Grass to grace, the perfect way to describe your case but it ends online. In reality, the grass is an overstatement as you daily bite the dust. Bust out, standing on crossed legs, arse forming a parabola and that effortless pout.
All is well with you online and you are dripping swag but in reality, you dey chemist shop dey collect drip make you for no drop dead.
Hunger na bastard but you two are always on a regular date. On IG, you post the most sumptuous delicacies and you are always sipping easy but when we see koro-koro, na any cold beer we dey guzzle.
Do you get jealous when I stunt and show-off on IG? What if I’m just showing off my best life the few times my stories pop?
Before you shared that deep tweet, did you research or use a lexicon? Before you share the next deep tweet, I have just one question; you don chop?
Do you salivate when we randomly post those delicacies on IG? When we say try chop o, we might just be advising ourselves.
Social media platforms no dey detect fake baffs, envy no one. Person wey baff up sef fit wear tear-tear socks or dirty boxers. It might not be a show off when the breast is everywhere, maybe she couldn’t afford a bra. Babe wey dey twerk with caution fit no posh, e fit be craw-craw; okoo-junction.
The drama remains online but the war is fought and won offline. Offline is where you find the frontline.
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