_"You know I got us bru, on slime", says an earnest Young Thug with a level of uncertainty in his voice. "You say the SAME thing every time", replies an even less certain Lil Uzi Vert. "And ain't shit come out yet, am I right or no?!", replies Thug, now much louder than what was initially a whisper. He was right though. For as long he and Uzi had been doing the do nothing had ever made it to the public, though not for a lack of trying. "On GOD n****s know how my slatts move! Let a n***a get to talkin', it's gone get real tragic in this h*e and that's on my BIG slime!", remarks Thug. "You say that every time too", retorts a mildly frustrated Uzi. Lil did they know, this wouldn't be like every time. No, this would be much different. "How the f**k did he even get up here, ain't we on like floor 14 or something?", says a now more confused than frustrated Uzi. "Don't really matter how he got up, I know how the b***h going down though" replies Thug, now frantically searching for something amongst the myriad of fast food wrappers, prescription pill bottles and various currencies strewn across the large bed. "I buy a new fucking phone every week and I don't see not nan' one of these b*****s man WHAT THE F**K!", yells a now visibly distressed Thug. "But Jeffr-""JEFFREY MY DICK N***A", howls Thug abruptly cutting Uzi off. "You know damn well how left this s**t can go for us, or do you not care anymore? Ol perc' poppin' a*s boy" says Thug still rummaging about the messy bed. "Says the n***a on his THIRD liver, ol black market a*s n***a", retorts Uzi, rolling his eyes in true diva fashion. "Here just use my s**t n***a d**n.", says Uzi flinging one of his phones across the room. "And leave my career in the hands of YO cap a*s shoota? Boy I with the f**k I would.", replies Thug. "Shittttt at least THAT n***a know how to watch a door.", mutters Uzi to himself. "F**k are you even paying niggas for bro?!", says an Uzi who now seems to be fully grasping the gravity of the predicament the pair was thrust into only minutes ago...
