Twas the night befo Kwanzaa; and all through the crib
My niggas wuz at the table, eatin chitlins and ribs.
Dey wuz all drinkin fo’ties; and pickin out dey fro’s
In hopes dat we’d get a visit, from all of our hoes.
Lamont spoke up first; he aks’d where wuz our honies?
Tyrell said they “prolly out partyin, and spendin our money.”
We waited there fo hours; and when the skanks didn’t show
We all went to sleep, after snorting some blow.
When out in da yard; there was a muthafuckin racket
I sprang from the couch, and grabbed my 8 Ball jacket.
I ran out the door; and much to my suprise
Saw those trick ass sluts, smokin crack with other guys.
What I saw was stupifyin; I couldn’t believe dis shit
They was on our nuts yesterday, damn I wuz pissed!
Just to make sho’ I was right, I’d thrown on my glasses
Then I pulled out my nine and popped caps in dey asses
All six hit the dirt; tryin to escape my wrath
But I gotz twelve rounds in this bitch, so you do the math.
I wuz determined as hell; to make these tricks pay
Ain’t no nasty ass hoes gon’ treat my homies dis way.
Dey cried and dey pleaded; for me to spare all dey lives
But dis gangsta aint gots no mercy fo niggas who jive.
So I walked on up to em; as they lay in da snow
And I spent the first three caps, on my own punk ass ho.
The five that wuz left all screamed and dey scattered
But dey ended up in a mess of piss and blood spatter.
I done real good; still had two rounds in da clip
Turnt around to see Lamont n Tyrell all trippin n shit.
An old man across the way; had turnt on his light
Saw the execution, and quickly took flight
But what had dem buggin was the lady next doe
She was callin da police, we’d be arrested fo sho.
At this exact moment; I began to hear sirens
So we got back inside and prepared to start firing.
We decided to play it cool; act like we wuz innocent
So when they called for our surrender, we felt pretty hesitant.
I opened up the door; and threw my hands in the air
Lamont and Tyrell ran out da back, got the hell outta there.
An officer approached me slowly; then he cuffed up my hands
He read me my rights and walked me out to their van.
Along came the Sergeant; who wanted to take down my statement
But I knew this nigga here, much to my own amazement
His name wuz Maurice; but on the streets Big Daddy Mo
We used to rob shit together, but lost touch years ago.
He came walkin up to me; and when my eyes met his
He gave me a quick wink and said, “I’ll take care of this.”
Before a minute had passed; my hands were uncuffed
And the cops was apologizin, for roughin my ass up.
I walked back to my house and thanked the Lord it was over
Then I saw Big Daddy Mo step out of his police-issue Rover.
He came right up to me; and began talkin some sense
He’d planted a gun on the victims to make it look like self defense.
We’d both seen shit in the ghetto that’d turn white men black
But he made me promise him I’d get my life back on track.
I thanked him for his help and as he drove out of sight
He said, “Happy Kwanzaa to you nigga, now have a good night!”
Republished here on Fortean Squirrel from my old Myspace blog. I’ve never seen so many misspelling notifications!