Got more butt than she got body
S'posed to storm tonight. Anticipation is high after copping a grand 3 hours of sleep last night in that still stick stank. And what the hell, it wasn't even that hot. Beats me.
Got my mayne in trouble last night for somehow asking him if he had Wednesday off after he told me he had it off, only to have him say that he *didn't* have it off. Which I guess he was supposed to. I'm confused about this one. Our webs are tangled in far too mundane a matter.
I figured I'd better help conjure the storm for my sanity and to wash away his sin. Only way I could think of was by once again telling you about my damn playlist. How it do:
I initiated negotiations with Scarface's first joint. This was done to let the weather know I mean fucking bizness and one false move I would BLAOW that shit with my .12 gauge.
Glimpsing the sun I realized that I may have scared rainclouds off with Face's sheer braggadocio. For mista mista's sake I threw on Mecca & the Soul Brother. Perhaps a bit of a jolt, but it has one of the few love raps that I personally know to be tolerable. Not that I'm in any way an expert on such things. Also T.R.O.Y. let those erstwhile clouds know that I felt remorse for my actions and my heart went out to the fallen and shit. I was willing to tip one out if the clouds would join me. The general consciousness of the jawn, I figured, may lure the stormclouds nearer, sensing weakened defenses.
Which brings us to now. The standby: In Our Lifetime, Vol 1. Eightball & MJG are like fucking sweat on this record, which I figured may strike the final chord and get this shit going. Maybe from their Space Age 4Eva basecamp they could spot the swirly clouds growing ever closer to showering us like a case of Cris...er, Moet. Nothing yet though. I guess I'm pathetic like that. I shall continue to grind with vigilance until results are obtained... keep yr eyes on the skies...
Got my mayne in trouble last night for somehow asking him if he had Wednesday off after he told me he had it off, only to have him say that he *didn't* have it off. Which I guess he was supposed to. I'm confused about this one. Our webs are tangled in far too mundane a matter.
I figured I'd better help conjure the storm for my sanity and to wash away his sin. Only way I could think of was by once again telling you about my damn playlist. How it do:
I initiated negotiations with Scarface's first joint. This was done to let the weather know I mean fucking bizness and one false move I would BLAOW that shit with my .12 gauge.
Glimpsing the sun I realized that I may have scared rainclouds off with Face's sheer braggadocio. For mista mista's sake I threw on Mecca & the Soul Brother. Perhaps a bit of a jolt, but it has one of the few love raps that I personally know to be tolerable. Not that I'm in any way an expert on such things. Also T.R.O.Y. let those erstwhile clouds know that I felt remorse for my actions and my heart went out to the fallen and shit. I was willing to tip one out if the clouds would join me. The general consciousness of the jawn, I figured, may lure the stormclouds nearer, sensing weakened defenses.
Which brings us to now. The standby: In Our Lifetime, Vol 1. Eightball & MJG are like fucking sweat on this record, which I figured may strike the final chord and get this shit going. Maybe from their Space Age 4Eva basecamp they could spot the swirly clouds growing ever closer to showering us like a case of Cris...er, Moet. Nothing yet though. I guess I'm pathetic like that. I shall continue to grind with vigilance until results are obtained... keep yr eyes on the skies...
posted by Quincy Hoist at 7:04 PM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home