My conscience is eating me alive. I have done a horrible thing. I must get it off my chest

I was in Ange scouring the floor for hot chicks with no inhibitions and nice personality, when I saw out of the corner of my eye, guess who? Ugandan dancehall superstar Jose Chameleone!

“That’s that nigga who has been singing all those shit songs fucking up my life!” screamed my left brain hemisphere.

I had to do something.

So I crept up behind him and when he wasn’t looking I stuck my hand through the crowd and banged my fist hard over his head. Then I crept away sniggering.

A little further on, who do I see but Chameleone’s rival, other Ugandan dancehall superstar Bobi Wine?

“That’s that other nigga who has been singing all those other shit songs fucking up my life!” a familiar voice in my head forcefully declared.

I repeated the process and crept away again.

Then out of the corner of my eye, I saw Bebe Cool.

“What is this, Christmas?”

I am an instrument of wrath. I crept up and scratched his neck with a key.

Then look what happened.

Now that's gangsta