If my son was some popstar who made a lot of money, even if he was my illegitimate that I was ashamed of for taking on a career as a light on his feet dancing like a pansy and not following the family tradition of working in a factory or a career in sports like a real man, even if I ran out on the family because they were too much work and effort and got in the way of drinking, even if I didn’t know he existed by had seen him on TV, you could be pretty much guaranteed, I wouldn’t be living in this fucking dump. Shit looks like a fucking double-wide trailer and sure that’s okay for some people, but not people who’s sons are famous enough to beat the fuck out of Rihanna. Seriously, I was lookin up property in Virginia or wherever the fuck they live and you can pick something like this up for 15 dollars and a carton of fucking cigarettes. Maybe Chris Brown should be spending less time renting lamborghini’s to kill girlfriend’s in and more time renting his pa something a little better than a modern version of the shanty’s the slaves on the plantation used to live in.

Posted in:Chris Brown|Father|House