Friday, October 17, 2003


gots werk ta due crew. But that don’t mean it’s not nuggin nogget time, hellz no. I gots a verse, strait out of a hearse, yo this curse it couldn’t be worse unless you’re a beantowner you don’t give a browner but green eyed bandits are the most skinless and unpredictable kine, only not.

Chuuchin’ chuchinstein. Wakefield acres landmark alley, strait up in your grill.

Suckin hard, going for the finish line, realizing 2 more laps to go, fuck this shit, throw it, gaffle it, choke it, chiken it, lean cuisine that shit, strait up & down, take it cradle to tha grave style, all up in their grill, don’t let em talk shit like that, they don’t know the score, they don’t know the poodle they don’t know your noodle all you can say is step to tha curb and flex your armstrongs and Jonathon your Livingston seagulls, strait up & down, no panickin’.

So that was so damn profound, like, if you didn’t realize it, I’m like, um, not disrespectin your grill or nuthin, but contemplate, was it retardation or the state of the nation, I mean strait up & down, was it rockabilly, did it have soul, was it gangsta was it sweet was it meaty was it neat.

Fuck this shit. oh & motherfuck E-40. strait up & down, he can come up on his hands & knees and beg for the dee and get strait bitch slapped back to cape canaveral for a fukn free rocket to the land of the lost, cuz he is lost cuz homey don’t know how to put on a show & he’s a bitch ass mark.

Fukn curse. Seriously. Boston sux ass. The yanks will always own their asses. Strait up & down, sorry to piss in your milk and spit in your tea but reality is more than an escapade and I roll in hotter than an escalade if you catch my drift, strait up & down.

Fukn I’m so down with this strait up & down shit that I may fukn patent that shit, I mean, has anyone patented that gangsta ass shit? fuk those fools and fuck e-40 and motherfuck the Denver broncos.