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I am here, where are you? Do you remember the times of fear? Do you look back into our years? When the torment brought me to tears? Can you still feel the pain you caused me,
"When you're a cop, can you pardon my tickets?" I hate hearing such mundane things about my career. It's not even what I want to do.
Black bodies, swarm in squeezed; shoved locked up. The built bodies behind the metal bars costs more than thousands of gold and silver. Priceless, because it's free labor.