Gradually degenerating into ignorance and complacency.

Friday, January 18, 2008

Hats!

Yo! My hat be on d'side Ngr! Gotta git dat dope food, yo! How mutch, mann?
$27.50

All we got iz $24.

Yo. Go get sum mo' [from Mom outside sitting in the car who is paying for it]

Gansta G's from the Saxon variety -- whiter than snow and as stupid as "doh". Deh wuz spor'in dope hats yo ... on da side. Weez G's man

go gets da money from mom.


Ok, putz take your hootchee man, Squeaky T Mouse, score some sud (not bud) from Wal-Mart and home, G Man! Weez outta here -- peaz mudder ...

Dude, sshhh, you're mom's listenin'

Don't be disrespectin' less I put a slap on yo' azz, cuz I ain't allowed to have tobacco, let alone a gun
We be ridin' in the seven year-old ride wit dem tinted windows and the child's stickers on the window -- see?
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Some "wiggers" came in tonight fresh dope G style with hats tilted, held up their fourteen year-old rep until they had to get cash from good old mommy.

Mom ... yo bustin' me; better go make dat money!
Listen, Phillip Carlyle from the East Side of Santa Claus, Indiana, drop the dope, the rep, and the 'tude. The only part of hood you have is the hoodie I got from JCPenny that you never seem to wear.

Ah, Ma! You breakin' me ... I gots me a rep to keep.
Yeah, well, your Wii and XBox ain't gettin' used G Funny til you get your homework done. Dope enough?

Big Scrimpin'