Fuck that azn gangsta wannabe!
a little back y'all I laid it down about how Shirley Pang's old-country boyfriend tried to shank me, straight jumping me at Swensen's! all was down low the last couple weeks, but check it, today I was grufflin' some Arby's and the dude cold rolls up in his ricer!
A few posts ago I related the time when Shirley Pang's immigrant beau attacked me with a knife at Swensen's. Nothing has happened lately, but during lunch at Arby's today he arrived in his Japanese sports car.
purple puss cold aimed a barrel at me, but that ain't no. I yelled "rice boy ready fo' his money shot!?" and pointed. he saw the cam and yelled at his driver out to pull forward, but the camera cold followed them. I gave between-tha-bunzz tongue love to my Big Montana while they tried to dodge the lens. I got the plate and Uncle Ray ran it—he is chum pals with the police sergeant—and he got me their address with full blue backup. Uncle Ray and I got mad different ideas on my days, but blood is blood. he wanna see his LN avenged.
(Gang colors? Epithet?) pointed a gun at me, for which I would not stand. I drew his attention to the security camera and attempted to subvert its gaze, to no avail. While they continued, I returned to my meal and copied their license plate. Uncle Ray has a police officer friend and used the connection to find their address, issuing officers to the scene with me. He and I tend to disagree on how time should be spent, but we are family after all, and Uncle Ray doesn't want anybody to disrespect me.
blue dropped me a couple blocks from this azn's hole-up, and I tiptoe the rest, cold same clothes as lunchtime, kevlar under the K. Malone. I see the civic in question, and I nod to blue, who pull up and cut the gas.
The police let me out surreptisiously a short walk from the boyfriend's address, with a bulletproof vest under the same clothes he had last seen me wear. By the car's presense, I could surmise his, and I alerted the police, who arrive and shut off their engines.
I'm all about a light step up their apartment stairs, and through their window I can see them workin their xbox on a Phillips fiddy. I wave a couple blues up and they bust down the door. I got a good look at the b/j who dry-iced me, and mock-capped him as they dragged him by.
Quietly I crept up the stairs to his apartment and witnessed them playing video games with a Surround Sound system. I gave the go-ahead to some of the cops, who burst into the apartment. As the officers escorted him downstairs, I shot a make-believe gun in his direction.
sweet-ass night, all. gonna puff some dill and consider some ink on the premises, probly that mad band around the bicep, cold initials all worked in.
Have a good night. I'm going to get high and think about getting a tattoo - possibly an armband with my initials in it.
FIN
That's not as easy to put into English as I thought it would be. I'm further impressed at the amount of work that goes into the blogs.