Thursday, April 28, 2005

summah'z comin

wit all the tyyme away from tha damn bookz I goin' cook up some action on my weed angle, yo. got Uncle Ray outta the biz pretty wily, Téodor still a tightey, maybe gonna have him sell to Uncle Ray indirectley thru me. That is tha klassic circuit, all, tha Pyramid. that's how the deuces like old Trump and Fred Mcdonalds make they scratch, by cold existin as a virus.

I am gonna make mad bank peddlin' cannabliss to tha Unk, allz.

Wednesday, April 13, 2005

dang uncle Ray tryin' to muscle my sideline!

shizzito, my damn uncle tryin' to cut in on my weed biz, all! I ain't got that many clients--just Téodor at this early stage, in all franktuality--and it ain't like i need that cheepsty shoppin' around. I got a ruse on, posin' as this crazy azn dude who wants to cap uncle ray 'cause he is a rival drug dealer, the dude already who is on tha block, you know.

I ain't know how long I can keep up tha charade, all. He's buyin' it for now, and tha old doggie gitz bored mad easy, so he'll probably foget he be in tha drug trade by oh let's say Thiddy.

Peace and bombs, toms, I goin' get a mad Ho-Ho bliss on in the pantry!

Friday, April 01, 2005

Fuck tha klown biz!

Damn so you can't even get a klown gig in this butt-stylezz town what unless you got in wit tha klown union! they this main agency that got a corner on all klown gigs, an they keep a damn list of all newspaper births and then computer filezz on when the born babies turn two an' shit, they snatch up all tha leads befo' I can book any payouts. It is a stone fuck to make it in this world if you are a dogg of ambition and a player of gangst, but still a muscle mus' make it on he own, you feel, or he become the tiny soft thing hangin' down behind Stephen Hawking's calf bone, all. Fuck tha klown game, and tha sad bubble noses wakin' up late wit tha shakes and racin' to cold freak out a toddler because they forty and have hella Captain Morgan breath and no savings.