Submitted by David J.
iPhone or Blackberry? iPhone or Blackberry? I don't even know, man. They both are very rare-y. Man, a iPhone or Blackberry? iPhone and Blackberry. iPhone and Blackberry. They both are very scary.
Man, one's got all the apps. The other one's got all the caps. Your mama's like, 'Yo man, fuck it, I'm just poppin' back. I'm poppin' back, I'm sittin' back, I'm chillin' and I'm smokin' and I don't give a shit, man." Fuck it, I'm just jokin'.
No I'm not. Matter of fact: women lie, men lie. I don't give a shit man if all then niggas fuckin' cry when they seem them haters lie. I was just like, "fuckin' bye". Then I was like, "I'm in the ceiling high." Hi! Hi! And yeah, that's how I do it and matter of fact man, yo hip hop is dead and I'm in the embalming fluid.
I copied that from Wayne, so free Weezy.
iPhone or Blackberry? Dan, call me on my iPhone. I don't give a shit man - call me on my iPhone. Call me on my hard phone only if you got my number. Matter of fact man, if you call it I'll probably just ignore it. Ignore it and probably just text you back 'cause that's the fuckin' thing man and that's the motherfuckin' fact, dog: I don't like no talkin', I just like to rap; and matter of fact yo, if you're talkin', better rap. If you're talkin', better rap. I got all these apps and I was like, "Holy shit, man! Let me buy one! Sike! Let me crack one! Yeah, that's the right one. Matter of fact man-dog, I'm feelin' like Dre, son."
Everybody wants to battle. Everybody wants to rattle. Everybody wants to see me on the horse or fuckin' cattle. And matter of fact, I like cabbage. And matter of fact yo-yo, you better... better... back up, bitch when you're fuckin' with the boy. I fuckin' count my shit, and I was like, "Ugggghhhh" and then I was like, "Fuck it" and, "I'ma rock this shit ugggghhhhh". And I was like, "Uh, yo, I'ma make this shit look pretty pretty".
Bitches on my sizzy. Bitches on my [redacted] and oh shit, can't say that; Cousin Thizzy's watching! But then, after ya'll watch it, I hope they bobbin' they heads buh-buh-buh-bobbin' them head on my iPhone and Blackberry. iPhone and Blackberry. iPhone and my black Mary; which one is cherry, man?
Yo, if you know what I mean dog, then put your iPhone and Blackberry in the air, motherfucker.
iPhone and Blackberry.
Yo, fuck, I'm out dude. This is crap.
The singer dove off the stage and crowd surfed in a sort of reverse funeral procession where the person being carried is the only one truly alive. Touching him I felt religious ecstasy and started speaking in tongues and requesting songs that didn't exist.
There's no easy way to put this, so I'll tell it like it is. Bouillon is died. He went missing before the weekend and yesterday I found his skeletonized remains at the bottom of the #3 soup vat during one of my swims. I thought the cream of mushroom soup had an especially nourishing taste, and a lot more clumps of fur and skin than usual.
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