damn son my blog game is slippin!

i needa get back on my bullshit.. yuaah watch me crank dat busta rhymes nigga!

i don’t even know what to blog about..so i’ma just type shit!

tomorrows bout to be the last full day of school..last 2days after that are just for finals..

ima be wahlin son! real talk..

this my time to shine..lmao

the deans say i might not even go back there next year..so fuck it

ima swag surf all up thru the deans office

then do tha stanky leg right on the principals desk nigga

that shit gonna be so stank..that ima come back next year and her desk still gonna be stinkin son!!

i’m tellin you yo..

but yo i’m tired of typin.. thats why i don’t blog shit, cuz i don’t like typin this damn much..

i wish i could like hook this bitch up to my brain..like direct to the cerebella n shit n jus like superblog..

anyways yeah, joebuddenTV signin off

i mean im out

i can’t feel my face..

is gonna be a dope asss album..

don’t say i ain’t told you so if/when it come out..

baby i’ma riderrR!!!

i just met scarface

he lives in a duplex and smokes crack.

real talk..

tonight, i was chillin with a couple girls and my dude.. he goes to this cuban guy’s crib to make a sale right quick..

cool..

then we go out, cop some green n come back there to chill and just smoke a L..

the dude’s married, has a kid, a nice ass house (even though its a duplex, the insides madd nice), and he’s real nice.

so we’re sittin at the kitchen table sparkin up while his wife cooks us sausages (word.)

when all of a sudden tony montana come up n sit next to me with his lil crack pipe.

he does his thing, while we do ours.

suddenly, he starts getting into these crazy stories about how he has another wife and a house in brazil with a lot in front, a few apartments up north, all kinda shit..

he’s got the accent down too.

he also wants “the extacies.. dey real good to make love wit, ju know?”

the whole time i’m sittin there thinkin, “damn.. this sausage is delicious and i’m sittin next to the real live scarface right now”

dude was madd cool..

when we all got back in the car there was a lil bit of silence..
i come out with “yo i just feel like i met scarface”..lol

everybody agrees madd quick n shit.. i was like damn, that nigga from the movie is real..

shit was kinda crazy..

what the fuck’s up?

that‘s wassup.

i’m so three thousand and eight..

you so two thousand and LATE

damn i wish i could be creative. you know what i’m sayin?
like i wanna be a rapper, but i know i ain’t goin nowhere unless i start some new shit.
but to be successful, it’s gotta be different enough to be brand new, but not too different where it’s something completely unheard of and no one even wants to fuck with it.
but the harder i try to be different, the more i end up like everybody else.
maybe that shit just gotta come natural.

idunno, i’m just venting i guess.. or goin off on a tangent, whatever you call it..
isn’t that what blogs are for? lemme know if i’m doing it wrong..

look mom, i can rap!

i wrote a freestyle to this joint a minute ago..
never got around to recordin it.
maybe one day..

hey bag lady, i like your bag, lady/
it got the same logo that my wallet has baby/
yeah that’s the louie, lookin’ oh so gooey/
hot n chewy, don’t you wish you knew me?/
i’m so damn fly that the pilot flew me/
..pause, but these bars is so damn hot/
and you know they straight off the stove top../
..of my dome. ET phone home, won’t leave me alone/
my girls back on Mars keep blowin up my phone/
they callin me a dogg, and i’m just tryna bone/
they like the way my swagg stand out like traffic cones/
the sickest bastard on.. the track../
just blast it on yo stereo, there we go/
my flow is just oh so.. whoa/
..yeah you know its crazy/
i gotta do it cuz hip hop made me/
so i gotta make hiphop, yeah my shits hot/
..yeah you know it rock/
i’m killin this man, when will it stop?/
maybe now, lemme check the clock/
its about 1.30 in the afternoon/
ain’t got shit to do but just keep it cool/
and if you think this whack, then i think you’re a fool/
matsuflex flow, and you lookin like a tool/
and i’m just tryna screw, i don’t wanna drive her../
in the wrong direction, don’t jive her/
i’m just tryna work wit it like macgyver/
if bein fresh was a crime then i would be a lifer…

remember, it was a freestyle so idunno if that was exactly what i said..
but oh well, shit’s pretty dope regardless.

gucci back, bitch.

yeah he back, bitch.

did you miss him?

or miss his raps, bitch?

yeah so that writing on the wall tape dropped the other day.

if you ain’t heard it, check it out.

i would attach it to this post but i have no idea how to work this shit yet..

fuck it, stole a link from them dope boyz:
http://sharebee.com/2f4eb006

yupp, i made a blog.

i wonder who else is gonna read it besides me.