Yearning for the gritty ghetto bards of yore? Grab that box of CDs off the top shelf of your storage closet. Dust them off. Pop in an old favorite. Skim through your favorite tracks, you know, the ones whose track numbers you still remember. Is the nostalgia flowing strong yet?
Head thumping back and forth to that sick beat on Insert Favorite Wu-Tang Song.
Grinning at those so-goddamn-cool-you're-jealous Beastie Boys on the Paul's Botique interlude "5-Piece Chicken Dinner."
Then of course, there is Biggie. sigh.
Follow along, for full effect. Think: drug deal gone wrong. Like the Scarface chainsaw scene.
Today's agenda, got the suitcase up in the SentraGo to room 112, tell em Blanco sent ['cha]...All they tote is stainless, you just remain ascalm as possible, make the deal go throughIf not, here's 12 shots, we know how you do...Just bring back the coke or the creamOr else, ya life is on the shelf, we mean this FrankThem cats we fuckin wit put bombs in yo moms gas tank...Fuck a robbery, I'm the bossPromise you won't rob em, I promiseBut of course you know I had my fingers crossed
And the soldiers have their marching orders. If worse comes to worst they can handle themselves; however, they've been warned that a robbery is out of the question. Well now, when has a warning ever stopped anyone? Time for a plan.
Verse 2:
Since it's on, I call my nigga Arizona RonFrom Tuscon, [push] the black Yukon...Now he feel he undefeated, he mean itNothing to lose, tattooed around his gun woundsEverything to gain, embedded in his brain
Step one: Get Ron. Step 2: Make a plan. Do some recon.
Verse 3:
We agreed to go ['in'] shootin is sillyBecause niggaz could be hidin in showers with Mac [milli's]...Got shook, thought a nigga was comin for the safeNow she breakin, shut up, 112, what's shakinA Jamaican, some bitches I swear, they look gayIn a black Range Rover, been outside all day...Ron, get the gasoline, this spot, we bout to blow thisget the cash before the cops and Range Rover cats noticeRoom 112, right by the staircase, perfect placeWhen they evacuate, they meet they fate
Good plan. Smoke em out, grab the cash. This is where things get hectic (and violent). Biggie and Ron start a fire. Flush them out and kill them (Ron is a little sadistic, amirite?). Take the cash. Now, how to get away from the backup in the Range Rover outside?
I know them niggaz in the Range is on they way upFlippin, pistol grippin, I load the clip inThe hallway, got real loud and crowdedThey walked right past us, I don't know how they allowed itThe funny thing about it, through all the excitementThey Range got towed, they double parked by a hydrant
So tell me, what old favorite did you rediscover?
I'd like to see a ghost rapper battle a la Celebrity Death Match, with Biggie and Tupac tag-team representin' on worst lyrical team ever Drake (I know way too many people here right now that I didn't know last year, who the f' are ya'll) & Fitty Cent (Have a baby by me baby, be a millionaire)
ReplyDeleteIt'd be a delightful massacre... wish there was something that could be done to the losers, like carve a microphone on their forehead.