K.L.I.T.Z. - B - R.E.D.D.Y. wuz a stone flop, no/joke. First of allah, I gotz this mad case 'a writa's block like straight---a---wayz, an' could not ra-hyyme even tinies such az clip and blip, let alone $uch nazzty fare az cilantro an' Toronto (which iz m4d-tite, and I am developin' that 1 in a side project called LimbzBLoose). Then mah loot pile dryyed up like a lick from a snake, an' since I ain't got no fantazztic chicken recipe I cain't start no famous chicken chain, now can a boy.
So's just B tryin' not 2 go 2 skewel, diggit, and much lovin' on some sanda-ma-wiches when I can handle some inchezz in mah tite little bo-day.
That'z all it be, that's all 4 me, slip-dickle. Kut your blab, kiss a krab.