A rapper who tweeted ‘God made me bulletproof’ has been shot dead outside a pizza shop.
He might have given you a heavily sloped forehead and a thick skull, but that's not quite the same as being bulletproof, obviously. Aspiring (c)rapper and good boy turning its life around gets limited, its animal mind vomiting out blasphemous nonsense right until the bitter end.
Young Muzi, 31, was killed in Atlanta on Sunday night when police heard multiple gunshots outside the restaurant.
Nothing of value was lost.
Nearly eight months ago he posted his fateful tweet after surviving a shooting at a Waffle House on December 28, 2016, in Buckhead, Georgia.
The vibrant and colorful "African-American" experience, unlike stiff and dull Whitey who rarely, if ever, engages in shootouts at a waffle outlet.
John Henson, deputy chief investigator of the DeKalb County Medical Examiner’s Office, identified the victim by his legal name, Jabril Abdur-Rahman.
The exciting "intersectionality" of typical negro behavior and moon cult idolatry. Dat durr snake idol dunn made me bull-poof an sheeeit. Halp mee Ahh-lahh I bee leekin'.
Speaking after the shooting that he survived, he told Fox news: ‘I didn’t see anything. I was in there for three to five minutes and was about to order the All Star Special when bullets started flying.
Getting your All Star Special on gone wrong. It didn't see nuffin. Next thing you know, a scene from the coming all against all is unfolding with moronic tar creatures blasting each other and then dying after muh divine protection failed.
Talented and deeply spiritual morlock got wasted.
‘I think the shooter was a customer inside. My friends and I were just trying to get some food after a night of making music.’
After producing a symphony to present at the next meeting of the Mozart Appreciation Society it was time to get some exotic Italian cuisine (diversity rocks!). A fellow consumer bar code went ape. We dyin' hee-ah.
Writing about his music on his website he said: ‘Now I’m officially in an artist state of mind. My work rule is to try to make three songs a day.
Time for artist mode. Let's see, what rhymes with "big ole azz?" Equitable flat tax? Unstable atomic mass? Man, diss sheet be eeezee, mudda fudda.
‘I try to be in there all day, every night. I discovered that working overtime on my music keeps me out of trouble. In fact it probably saved my life,’
Well, that and having your fellow night terror soak up all the bullets for you.