Things kind of snowballed and soon enough he was fielding a ton of Facebook hate.He had been shamed as a "balding beer bellied mute little c*** of a man" on Bad Girls Advice - an Australian all-girl private Facebook group of 50,000 members."I'm certainly not bald yet," Ron said, when Hack met up with him about four weeks later."I don't know where they got this beer bellied thing from either."There's a few things to follow up: how Ron found out his face was all over a private Facebook group, what he did next, and what the group admins did next.
Don’t turn yourself into a walking flyer for your boyfriend’s band.
You’re lucky he is using the quarter to call you, instead of buying gas or food. Never say anything negative about your man’s band that you cannot say to him.
Don’t follow him around at shows like a lost puppy, he is taking care of business, find your own crowd. Going from preppy to Nu to hardcore shows you are not your own individual. If he calls while out on the road, don’t complain about when he is coming home. If you’re a stripper, keep work on the pole, not at shows. Relationship problems can be dealt with after the show. If they have a show out of town, don’t drive just so you and your boy can have “alone time”.
You got to pray to Hip Hop almighty, We bless the microphone nightly, Open up the lyric from inside me, It’s our calling that’s why we say, You got to pray to Hip Hop almighty, We bless the microphone nightly, Open up the lyric from inside me, It’s our calling that’s why we say… I once had respect for this game, but now this game of respect, Is sold to the highest bidder with some fame and a cheque, Now any layman can get respect without breaking his neck, Paying dues, time these crews started paying some debt, It ain’t lights and cameras, personalities on set, Distorting realities in their context, With no originality concepts, Who gives a fuck about a salary; this ain’t a popularity contest, Cos Hip Hop ain’t faking for ends, Hip Hop ain’t, Fading with trends, it ain’t rich kids playing with pens, It ain’t the clothes on your back, or the label on them, It’s where you’re at, so I say it again, It’s just my life cycle; music means everything to me, It’s just a fashion show, nah; don’t believe everything you see, Cos if our eyes tell us lies the truth is we’re blind, So keep on walking straight and narrow down illusionary lines. Now Certified Wise have got a hold of ya, We drop a whole lot of funk like Magnolia, We’re the freshest B-Boys in Nike and Adidas, We’re hotter than heaters and blowing up speakers, There’s no half-steppers, we far from a fake crew, We make rap music every Aussie can relate to, We’ll never take a tumble, we’re not gonna stumble, If you diss any member the result is let’s rumble.
Either we’re all out, or we’re all in, And if we fall out, then we’re all falling, It’s the calling; it’s what I hear in my sleep, It’s that shiver up my spine when I’m feeling the beat, It’s that fear of defeat, the need to better myself, It’s the culture; it’s not about spreading the wealth, It’s forgetting the time when you’re perfecting a rhyme, It’s every drop of sweat that I shed getting mine. That’s just my life cycle, nothing matters but setting me free, Because my freedom and Hip Hop be meaning everything to me, Now face values and fashions empower everything we be, Believing everything we hear, and everything we see, So if our eyes tell us lies, then we usually find, Our visions cluttered by this scutter so the truth is we’re blind, It’s just poison food for thought for these delusionary minds, So stop walking straight and narrow down illusionary lines. Complex compliments the simple to complete this individual, Simplex the original, beat the hypocritical, Ridicule the weak with techniques that leave you burnt, Like cannabis or cheeba, either you do or you don’t, We’ll prove that you won’t ever endeavour to get it together, To better these fellas, I be like whatever, you get it? The reason Certified is Mr Nice with the wise guys.
Last year, Norwegi found herself in Dublin, whereupon she promptly fell in with a gang of horse-riding teens from Dublin's inner city, and created No Plan, an epic nine-minute long musical ode to their lives that's already en route to becoming somewhat of a viral video sensation.