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Youar My Hands Are Darker Than Yours
I feel like the only black person in the try county area, and i want you to go home. Your hands are eisaid hands. Ar r o b r, dark skin. My hair litrally looks like cotton when it grows. I don't care if jesus christ knock on her door, don't answer. Don't answer the dor for r nob. An she go. The suram, the comets on your take talk, arewild. Monas take talk. About what we li this one. Wored monea wer mones mam is like, call me. And then woen i is like, i'm at work.