Why I Can’t Stop Defending Azealia Banks

Even Though She’s Batshit Crazy

Everyone is nuts these days. Or maybe it’s just me. I think I’ve totally lost it. Nothing makes any sense. I finally get a job, and I hate it more than the roach that managed to hide inside my luggage — after I packed away from the Airbnb.

Azealia Banks is batshit crazy and I love for her it.

Maybe, I am possessed by her artistic command, or perhaps I see her as a wild child who hasn’t done anything outside the realm of celebrity fantasies.

Now, I am batshit crazy too.

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