It's getting harder and harder to keep it real in Chapel Hill. This is what I'm going to do for y'all: Take this column and distribute it to all the fake people you know. Cut out my mug and attach yours.
I bet there is somebody reading over your shoulder right now, nodding his or her fake head, talking about how much they "feel me."
That's the essence of being fake. Fake people become so transparent and deceptive that they fool themselves.
Don't believe the hype. It's not difficult to spot a fake, because these people are always obsessed with power.
Let's begin, shall we?
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Girl, don't think that I'm not going to call you out.
Why are you so fake?
Fake hair, fake eyes, fake nails and a fake attitude.
The worst part of the scenario is that you act as if you think you got it going on.
I really would like to know who is sweating you. What loser is pumping your head up? Don't think that you're tight because a few guys are trying to get in between those sheets.
Although you show arrogance on the outside, I know that you are a weak person on the inside. If you had the slightest bit of confidence, you wouldn't do what you do.
I still can't believe the stunt you tried to pull last month. Yeah, the time you lied on your "homegirl."
I know you remember lying about that sweet girl to her boyfriend, saying she was an undercover freak.
Your mission to steal somebody's man failed. You deserved to walk around campus sporting those shades for a week.
If you had any credibility, you would have tarnished that commendable female's reputation, and that would have been a shame.
Jealousy is a b----. You prove daily that you're envious of any girl who garners respect and positive attention.
You have no right to call anybody out, anyway. Just mind your business.
Don't you have a man back home in Greensboro, a man off-campus in Durham and a man at UNC who lives in Lewis?
That's gold-digger status right there. All of your boyfriends are geek-types with large bank accounts. You're oblivious to a man's looks, intelligence and personality, as long as he spends some dough.
Why do you continue to front by playing the innocent role? Sweetie, that good girl act just ain't cuttin' it.
We've heard about your many liaisons. We know about the incidents in E-Haus, Ashley Forest, Granville and Davis Library.
Two weeks into your freshman year, you were labeled as a gold digger/ groupie/freak.
Folks called you Chesapeake in '98 - wide open and full of crabs.
You'll never get a decent man. Even if you decide to stop prostituting yourself, the stigma surrounding your name will never go away.
You say that you're tired of being disrespected. But how can you expect respect if you don't respect yourself?
Think about it .
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What's up, Homie!?!? You're laughing like it's all good, giving your boy next to you a pound talking about how much you love this column .
But slow your roll and wipe that smirk off of your face, because I've got some words for you too.
What is this whole hard core/down for whatever/hard times song and dance for?
You say you rep the Ave, but I know you represent the cul-de-sac.
You keep claiming to be a thug. Do thugs take one punch to the face and just drop? Does a true thug chill at the bar while his boy is getting jumped in the club?
I assume that bobbin' your head to a Mobb Deep CD while sippin' on some Hennessy makes you hard core.
I'm sorry to break it to you, but listening to rap, blazing the skunk and setting up shop in your dorm room doesn't make you a thug.
Being a thug is not an act. Real people do what they do out of circumstance. You don't know the meaning of tough times.
In fact, you're always bragging about how much money you make. You conveniently forget to mention that Mom and Pops send you checks on the regular.
Instead of buying some Iceberg outfit that you know is ugly, you should be using that loot to pay off your maxed-out credit cards.
Your lies have ruined the reputations of too many quality females on this campus. Every word that you speak concerning your relationships is false. You're a master of folklore, with a variety of tall tales at your disposal.
You might be able to impress a few outsiders with stories of bogus conquests, but those of us who are in the loop know about your lonely nights.
You're not a player if some high school girl loves you. You're not a player if you spend $150 every weekend to impress a woman. You're not a player if a stripper gives you a five-minute lap dance for $20.
You're not a player if you must take a trip downtown to get your phone calls returned.
Continue your charades and you will eternally be played.
A lot of people on this campus are laughing at your expense right now.
I can't blame them because you did it to your own self.
Philosophy .22 is a tool manufactured to annihilate fakeness. Reach Kofi at email@example.com.