Y’all mothers need to recognize. Ain’t y’all bitches know how to read a CHART? Look at this shit:
Sixy-eight-point-god-damn-four percent of the world. Why ain’t I got that iFruit for MY ANDROID DEVICE? I need to customize my ride, put some rims on that shit. I gotta train my DOG, man. Lamar a dumbass mother; he ain’t know how to take care of Chop. A untrained attack dog ain’t never done nothing but bad, fool. Lamar a cocky-ass SOB, too, maybe I straight ice that damn dog so bitch recognize his PLACE. Just cuz y’all parroty iPhone don’t mean they the only ones should get the goods. Plus, ain’t no way you gon’ convince me my cellphone ain’t a Sammy knock-off. Lyin’ ass bitches. Someone gonna sue y’all ass.
Fool spent FIVE DAMN YEARS building this game and can’t even get it all out at once. I may be a uneducated hood-ass gangsta, but I know it ain’t nowhere near as hard to get a app up on Google Play as to get Apple approve y’all shit. WTF, Rockstar? Is my $60 not as good as some Mac-tastic fan-boi daddy money? GIMME THE APP. I’ma blast one innocent San Andreas hooker E’RR DAY till y’all mothers get that shit out for Android. And I ain’t talkin’ ’bout no tutti saluti fake-ass shit. That app malware, fool. I’m a real O.G. and want a real O.G. app. Shit.