The collective gasp from everybody was electric 



If you're a fan of quality wing men, you're upset right now. Mainly because any time there is a side piece involved in the equation, solid screens must be set, alright? This is major. Thots are tremendous defenders, this we know. Like we said, you must allow your superstar time to get his shot off.
NOW, you're asking yourself, "well where were the screens this time?" Well, we know that any time your team is close to victory, there's a chance you can lose focus, alright? But c'mon, you cannot relax until the game is over. There's always plenty of time for hos to wreak havoc.
you mothafukkas manIs she a baby momma? Might be a restricted FA. She might wanna leave but can't bring dude a contract he won't match.She should consider taking her talents elsewhere![]()
Jesus fukking Christ.If you're a fan of quality wing men, you're upset right now. Mainly because any time there is a side piece involved in the equation, solid screens must be set, alright? This is major. Thots are tremendous defenders, this we know. Like we said, you must allow your superstar time to get his shot off.
NOW, you're asking yourself, "well where were the screens this time?" Well, we know that any time your team is close to victory, there's a chance you can lose focus, alright? But c'mon, you cannot relax until the game is over. There's always plenty of time for hos to wreak havoc.



If you're a fan of quality wing men, you're upset right now. Mainly because any time there is a side piece involved in the equation, solid screens must be set, alright? This is major. Thots are tremendous defenders, this we know. Like we said, you must allow your superstar time to get his shot off.
NOW, you're asking yourself, "well where were the screens this time?" Well, we know that any time your team is close to victory, there's a chance you can lose focus, alright? But c'mon, you cannot relax until the game is over. There's always plenty of time for hos to wreak havoc.





why is this in The Coliseum?
mods do your fukking job