Light Snax

January 31, 2018, 2pm.  About Me.  When I saw the following photo of now deceased Deborah Danner, I thought to myself that her eyes (most especially her right eye) look odd and her metal frame glasses look really large and when I really stared at the photo I saw that, her nose and her mouth also look odd.  In the other photo as I was looking at the gray scarf that looks like my gray scarf and the gray hat that sort of looks like my gray hat I was wondering why is the woman with a sort of military-looking backpack taking a photo of the supporters.  Because I posted the photo here at my website everyone pictured is now a plaintiff in a legal case against Berkshire Hathaway, Verizon and other corporations including the Mormon Church of Satan and Danites/Danettes, I ask you, please, no “Ten Little Indians” game for the people pictured in the photo, please!

Jennifer Danner, who had recently been appointed her sister’s legal guardian, said she rode the elevator to the seventh floor with Sergeant Barry and his driver. She said Sergeant Barry did not ask her anything about her sister’s condition or illness. Nor did he ask her to speak to her sister.

She said she waited by the elevator while Sergeant Barry walked down the hallway to her sister’s apartment. Two medics and about four police officers were gathered at the doorway. She said her sister was yelling: “Get out! Get away from my door! Leave me alone!”

Supporters of Deborah Danner gathered at the Bronx courthouse on Tuesday. Sgt. Hugh Barry is charged with murder and manslaughter for shooting Ms. Danner, 66, who had grabbed a bat during an encounter with the police. Credit Gregg Vigliotti for The New York Times

(The New York Times, January 30, 2018,

This young woman, also wearing large metal frame glasses, aviator glasses, looks a lot like my youngest grandson Wesley’s wife, Kolliesha:

(The New York Times, January 30, 2018,

What to watch tonight: Trump’s adjectives, Melania, boycotts
The secret tricks that Beyoncé did to get Blue Ivy through Grammys
Beyonce brought snacks and a juice box to the Grammys
Beyonce had more than just hot sauce in her bag at the Grammy Awards on Sunday night. The mother of three was fully prepared for the long night of performances with her 6-year-old daughter Blue Ivy Carter‘s favorite snacks, including a juice box.
Tom Brady & Gisele Bundchen’s $14 Million NYC Apartment
(MSN News, January 30, 2018,, emphasis added)

Former NBA player Rasual Butler, wife die in car crash
Bob Crane’s son recalls ‘Hogan’s Heroes’ star’s double life and murder
All the Pics You Need to See From William and Kate’s Scandinavian Tour
(MSN News, January 31, 2018,

The secret tricks that Beyonce did to get Blue Ivy through Grammys
Ryan calls to ‘cleanse’ FBI, backs memo release
Ailing ‘Goodfellas’ gangster wants to be sent to prison hospital
How Does Getting Rid of Internet Payments Until 2019 Sound?
(MSN News, January 30, 2018,


Explore what you need to know to help your clients >
LET’S SOVE IT … J.P.Morgan

Curren$y Lyrics

“Light Snax”

A lime to a lemon my Jetset women
Say she only feel alive when she with em
Jet Life tryna show she ride or die even if it kill her
I guess that’s why I dig her
She throwin up the set in all her pictures
I come get her – smoke dilla through the cracked windows
Heavy conversation light dinner
Destination and into the navigation
A GPS we kept from an out-of-state rental
Underneath the moon and stars riding to that Krizzle
You like that sound, that’s my nigga he from Mississippi
I be on tour with him you should come along with us
Champagne, flutes, cheese, crepes, and fruit
Fuck you know, Four Seasons drunk
Rolling a joint hitting buffet tables the fuck up
Get you back to your man’s ‘fore he knows what’s what
Your friends hating on you saying you lucked up
A lime to a lemon my Jetset women
They allow me to get in where ever I fit in
I stop by we be chillin’ and I get high with em
She caught three nuts but she never catch feelings
And bitch with that disposition we can count millions
I see that in ya got that 420 vision
’98 livin’ these iceberg sweats got 20 racks in em
Light Snax, Andretti

NORDSTROM [young black male] (Lite Snax by Curren$y,
Lumber Liquidator$, 14 S Wesley Street, S Hackensack, 201 343 5255
January 31, 2018.  About Me, continued (I posted JPM logo to prevent this paragraph from jumping up to the Lumber Liquidator$ address line, one of the several computer gremlin glitches.)  Last night on the subway on my way back to YWCA Brooklyn after I made an important message from me announcement to theatergoers on line to see Mormon Church of Satan Hamilton musical, as I entered one of the subway cars I asked a passenger if I could take a picture of his face scarf:

This young African American male (who I am certain would not be wearing this horror face mask with only his eyes visible if he was not told to) is now a plaintiff in a legal case against Berkshire Hathaway, JPMorganChase, Citi, Bain, American Express, Universal Music, Verizon and other corporations including and especially, the Mormon Church of Satan.  My grandson Wesley is the primary plaintiff, his wife Kolliesha is a primary plaintiff; his mother is a primary plaintiff.  cc all Mormon barristers
(2 or 3 subway to Brooklyn, January 30, 2018)


Break The Bank”

[Verse 1]
Fuck rap, I’ve been rich, crack by my stick shift
Oxy like concerts, always my bread first
Get Mine my nickname, O-X and cocaine
Nina my new thing, blew up before fame
Heart filled with octane, fire in my soul
Burn through my shoestring, came up from boosting
Du-rags and flatlines, drive-by’s at bedtime
Get down, I earn mine, so one loss they can’t sign
Thank God that I’m straight, no wonder my mom prayed
Lost one of my cuzzos, cursed from them devils
Good weed and me time, goodbye to Nissan
Cause one day this rappin’ gon’ pay

So now we ’bout to break the bank, money be on my mind
Niggas talkin’ ’bout, soundin’ like la-da-di-do, la-di-da-di-da-di-do
Now we ’bout to break the bank, money be on my mind
Niggas talkin’ ’bout, soundin’ like la-da-di-do, la-di-da-di-da-di-do
La-da-di-do, la-di-da-di-da-di-do
La-da-di-do, la-di-da-di-da-di-do, niggas talkin’ ’bout
La-da-di-do, la-di-da-di-da-di-do
La-da-di-do, la-di-da-di-da-di-do, now we ’bout to break the bank

[Verse 2]
My time to show out, finally the illest Crip
And I guarantee, I spit harder than concrete
Surprised I got teeth, my lungs inhale keef
Peyote with THC, swingin’ for the fence
I hope I make it out the park, where the baseheads slide
After dark, where the bangers get caught
Hid the gun in the trees, arrest me by the court
I just wanna smoke weed and sip lean by the quart, for real
Good weed, I hit that, crack rock, I sold that
Oxy, I hid that, right by my nutsack
Fuck pigs, I bust back, learned that from Deuce rap
Peanut and B-loon, had gats before racks
Way ‘fore I found rap, bitch I had them things wrapped
Astro on my cap, this shot ain’t no phone app
Chucks on my young heel, make sure that my sag ill
Learn my set trip grill, trade in my big wheel
Good grades and skipped school, this life gon’ catch up soon
Sure ‘nough that shit did, 20 year old kid
Got off my behind, write me some sweet lines
Cause one day my story gon’ pay

Your bitch wanted cash, get her, know I’m around boy
Tell Kendrick move from the throne, I came for it
I hope this fuckin’ hit arrange for it, cause Goddamn

What you talkin’ ’bout if it ain’t ’bout the money?
Neck full of gold, I’m attracted to the honey
Rain, sleet, snow, ’bout the money
On Figueroa, close your eyes, might need ya mommy

[Verse 3]
Fuck rap, my shit real, came up off them pills
Hustle for my meal, grindin’ for my deal
Love how I’m doing, long way from grooving
Bitch call me 2 Chainz, units be moving
Go hard for my Joy, so she don’t need no boy
Smile stay on her face, big room with her own space
Up all night, the hard way, don’t care if it take all day
I let y’all fucks parlay, you wonder why I’m straight
New shoes and sick clothes, bitches be front row
Bow down her tempo, I don’t know her info
Threw up my peace sign, go rare with mignon
Cause one day this rappin’ gon’ pay

[Hook][Bridge] (Break the Bank by SchoolboyQ

PATH MCGRATH LABSSchoolboy Q Lyrics 


Hey, turn it up, Hey
I know none of y’all probably never Heard this shit
I play to y’all anyway, fuck it!

[Hook: ScHoolboy Q]
Gangsta, gangsta, gangsta
Gangsta, gangsta, gangsta
We, gangsta, gangsta, gangsta
Gangsta, gangsta, gangsta, G
Gangsta, gangsta, gangsta
Gangsta, gangsta, gangsta, groove
Gangsta, gangsta, gangsta
I’m gangsta, gangsta, gangsta G
They want that gangsta shit!
Knock knock knock yawk (yawk yawk yawk)
Gangsta shit! [x3]

[Verse: ScHoolboy Q]
What it do young nigga’s
What it do young bitch’s
I got my drink in my cup
I got my backwoods no swisher’s
And bitch I’m faded (Faded), fucking faded (Faded)
Yea I’m famous, what I’m famous, fucking famous
Nigga I made it!
When I was broke I got me that nine
With my nine I hit me that lick
And then with that lick, it came with that yola
With that yola it came with your bitch
And see now your bitch she gon’ work on that corner
I don’t care if that ho get ammonia
Racks and you won’t get a quarter
She don’t run game, I’m the only controller
So wassup now? straight pimpin’ over here
Put that shit on burst, nigga
I be checking ass all on the curb nigga
You could smell that she fucking with a Figg nigga
What it is, nigga!
Perrier Jouet Rosé, I might relocate
Out of my mind, this world, I’m hot got damn it I’m fly (Yay Yay)
My grandma showed me my first strap
My nigga Rat-Tone always had the fliest gats
I finally got mine (yawk yawk) dirt now (Aye)
Real nigga’s don’t die homeboy, we multiply (Shit)
Come around my town you clown, that’s suicide
[Hook: ScHoolboy Q]
ally. DO IT RIGHT.
Ally Financial headquarters: Detroit, Michigan

Ally Bank headquarters: Midvale, Utah
cc all Mormon barristers

Kendrick Lamar SZA & Schoolboy Q

Spazz Cardigan

Kendrick Lamar SZA & Schoolboy Q

Charlie Wilson & Keith Sweat

(Market Watch, January 30, 2017, approximately 11pm,


LET’S SOLVE IT. … J.P.Morgan

Schoolboy Q Lyrics

“Druggys Wit Hoes”
(feat. Ab-Soul)

[V1 – Schoolboy:]
Got the baddest hoes
Got the finest weed
Everywhere I goes
They know who I be
Now take a picture
Now let me be
Let me do me, let me be a fiend
I’m shootin’ up, everyday I’m tryna ball
With my little China doll, got my back like spinal cord
That pistol on me, yeah that .45
Nigga feelin’ do or die, fuck tryna be unified
She over there
Wanna be over here
So I pull her hair, fuck her from the rear until she there
How are you?
Shit, I go by Q
Heyyy hoooo, now what it do?
Got a king size and it’s built for 2
I been meaning, to be leaning up in that pussy like promethazine and she took the semen my willy beamin’
On any given Sunday that pussy a runway she did it the fun way
Smash it like, Ticante
She did me hombre no need for nombre
We screamin’ olé and olé we scored no goalie, she’s just a groupie
And group-a, gave top like toupée, bum rushed that coochie
Her pussy lukewarm like long lay, her head be Bombay
Like gin and OJ, took a shot, and I won like gameday
Yes I’m the sensei, comprende?
Got a ticket, one way
Oh you don’t really see it that I’m gone?
Pass the baton, black
Real rap, spit to the break of the dawn, nigga we all that
We all that, see that’s the shit that we be on
Nigga this Black Hippy, nothing else
Beat so bake I’m ’bout to melt
All my shit be prison felt, TDE we got the belt
Hold it down if nothing else
Swear to god, on my life
Where it’s at? Shit on sight
Down to ride, fuck a bike
If I’m locked then fly a kite
Keep a strap on like a dyke
TDE we got the belt
Hold it down if nothing else[V2 – Ab-Soul:]Quincy where the weed at? You know I really need that
You know we go back, memba when I had you smokin’ Blacks?
In the back when Top was gone now Top is back
That mean we in Juice garage
You know you my brethren, we superstars
Still mobbin’ the 7/11, fuck a car
Top Dawg, ya little fists ain’t up to par
Got the baddest hoes, burn the finest kush
That means I’m a botanist slash gynecologist
Please hold your apologies for sleepin’ it was prophecy
I just need some time to have these demons climb up out of me
You know the ones that got me sippin’ these mickeys till I’m numb
Having your Mrs’ tongue missing from her mouth, in around my nuts
Ring around the rosie, pocket full of dust bunnies
This hip hop ain’t done none for me
Knew I was to be a star when I had a cubby, watching Ferngully
Now everything I puff fluffy and I’m so comfy
Watch the company I keep place they come for me
All these bitches in your dreams drinking cum from me
This blue dream steaming the lungs of me
Oh buddy

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(Druggys Wit Hoes by SchoolboyQ,