The whole time I read this I just kept imagining this as a 14th-century version of a ghetto throwdown which totally dissed death for bein' on John Donne's turf. I now present, "Death, you be trippin'" by Christian Powers.
Death, you be trippin'
Death, you be trippin', even though some be
Givin' you props, I ain't seein' it;
Ya thank ya all that
Butchu cain't even touch mah cornrows.
Dude ya even look a fool, lookin' all like ya make errbody sleepy
But dude, I don' even get up before noon; an' then you wanna make all uh us go tah beyad.
I don' thank so.
You be all up hangin' witcho posse,
But dude, cho posse don't even know me. They don' even know me!
Dude, I come across drugs that's better than yo sorry behind.
Why you be trippin' dawg?
Ima bust a cap in you.
Word.
<=D!
ReplyDeleteOh Christian. I don't know where it comes from.
I pretty much have a self-sustaining ghetto inside of me. They tell me things.
ReplyDeleteI wish I had a self-sustaining ghetto inside of meeee.... =]
ReplyDeleteGurl, your fiiine self is welcome in mah ghetto any day.
ReplyDeleteThey told me to say that.
Aww, well that's nice of them.
ReplyDeleteChristian, I've told you this before, but you may be the most creative person I know personally. this is incredible and hilaarious.
ReplyDelete