I have never discussed my rap career here on Something Awful, but my career really seems to be taking off so I feel that it has finally come time to mention it. About three years ago I met Wayne Johnson, or Wheeezeeee Jizzzzzeeeeezzzzeeeee as he prefers to be known, at a freestyle competition in Detroit. We hit it off immediately and our rhymes worked together like gin and juice, ice and fingers, trees and bitches, it was a wonderful thing. We put our heads together and decided to form a rap group, a squad so to speak of talented musicians who would come at you full force and leave you wanting more. We decided to call ourselves Tha Cris-poppin Furlords, because we enjoyed the fine flavor of Cristal and the luxurious feeling of large fur coats. I changed my stage name from White Ice to Baron Ermine Von Icebeats. Wheeezeeee had a friend that went by the name Jon-Jon Baguettes and used to break it down with the 357 Mafia, so we brought him in. Rap sensation Minkles Corleone joined the team, as did his associate Dubs McGemgrin. Guesting on all of our albums is the blingdroid himself Ice-2 D-2, who claims to have a platinum microchip in his brain.
We released our first album, "Bling Manor", into the underground in 1999 and it was an instant success with the club DJs. Ice machine Platinum Donny from Skgrilla Incoporatin' Records picked us up for our sophomore release "Skatin' On Our Necks", which was a heady mix of b-sides from "Bling Manor" and some new shit we just busted together. That record did really fuckin' good, I mean we went gold on that shit and that is no small accomplishment for a white boy from Ohio in the hip-hop industry. After we started blowin' up and shit like Vietnam, Platinum Donny was all ready to go promoting our next album hardcore and shit, which brings me to our new record, this one is called "Lifestyles of the Throw'd and Frozen". It is fifteen tracks of solid hits ready to go platinum so many times it turns around and goes diamond and then it turns around and goes uranium or some shit.
Tha Cris-poppin Furlords have blown up so big that MTV called to come out to my house and check out how a real star lives. My niggas was there too and we showed those MTV people all around Glacier Ranch. It turns out MTV was so totally hyped up on our shit that they decided Glacier Ranch would make all those other broke ass niggas start crying and shit and said they couldn't air the episode. I had one of my fans at MTV get they hands on the tape so I could tell you people all about this shit, I figure you might like to know even if MTV is all hush-hush on the GR tip. That loc ass motherfucker R-Lo is all "we can't host video clips on this site because wwwaaaaaa", nigga please, I don't need video clips, I rhyme for my motherfuckin' bank, I'll just tell these fine ladies about my house.
When I got my first check from P-Donny there was so many zeros on that piece of paper I could slap a limo on them and drive to Vegas. I like to keep it real, to stay in the Sidney hood where I grew up with all my niggas, but I knew there just wasn't no space to expand, and a nigga gotta stretch his legs. Instead of that shit I bought a house up in Aspen, Colorado. I figure it be up above the frost line or whatever and it works since my house be so frozen I turn on space heaters and cavemen walk up out my closets and shit talking about wooly mammoths. It's a real quiet gated community, my neighbors the Johnsons are some high-rollin' investment bankers or some shit, but they never come to my parties I be throwin, I guess it's sour grapes over the time I was lit up and drove my 18 wheel Ford Explorer limo into the side of their guest house.
That shit is Tommy Lee and P-diddy at my pool party. I don't know who the ho is but when I gave her some ice bitch made my balls shake like a rock tumbler.My estate is up by a lake and it has this buzzer you have to push to get into the front gate and I have a camera set up so if you ain't one of my friends or some fine azz ho you are not getting into the party. I have special filters and shit on that camera let me see into the booty range of light, so if you a skank and just normal don't look like it that fine instrument be detecting the truth. BLIZZOW! Trap door open up underneath your feet and your ass be down in the pit with the CHUDS.
My driveway is one mile long and goes in a big circle up by the mansion, that's where I park my mail car, my pool car, and my guest house car. These the cars I use to drive to get the mail, go to the pool to go swimming, and drive all the way out to the guest house. One is a Hummer with 500 watt Bose speakers and so much bass comin' out the back that you think someone is dropping grenades when I'm driving. I have 12 inch subs on all of the hubcaps with a platinum grill up on the front and diamonds in the headlights, rubies in the brake lights, and some sort of crazy amberized ancient bugs and shit in gems for the turn signal. My pool car is a Porsche 911 that Magnum PI hisself used to own, I have a moustache I put on and Hawaiian shirts made out of fur I wear whenever I go out to the pool. I pull up and say to mah niggas "TC where be the helicopter up in this bitch?" and they all laughing and carrying on. And hells yes, my other car is a helicopter, I call it my car because it's got platinum hubcaps bolted to the landing rails and bounces all over the place like crazy. I done crashed that motherfucker like ten times and shit is it expensive to get fixed up.
That brings me to the pool. This pool is the best pool up on this entire planet. There are three hot tubs, one full of Tangueray, one full of Remy, and one full of Cristal. There is a Cristal fountain in the middle of the pool, shit I always tell people to wear the diamond goggles too but they still get that shit in they eyes. I tried to get some dolphins to put in that shit but the motherfuckers kept dying, do I bought some seals and put them in there but those crazy things is always shitting everywhere and running up on a nigga bitin' and yellin' and shit when he try to enjoy a poolside cheeseburger. Finally I got rid of them too and just have some topless ladies in thongs stand around by the pool all day long.
Bill Gates made these robots up just for me, shit is helpful when you thirstin' for some Cris or Remy.You all may not know this but I have two kids, I love them to death my little daughter name is Freezeee and she is my princess. I got her in this room that revolves like a big turntable and everywhere she go is diamonds, she my ice queen, I even gave her a puppy made out of diamonds. My son, he just a shorty, only two year old, but he got a temper and he likes the bass like his daddy. I put a punchin' bag in his room and fill it up with candy and inside the candy I put little bass speakers so while he eatin' a jolly rancher his teeth can be bouncin'.
All the bathrooms done in solid platinum with diamond fixtures, all the toilet paper got 5 inch subs in each sheet. The mirror is a bigscreen plasma TV and shit and have a PS2 hook up to the faucets so you can play some Tekken and NBA Jams while you brushing your teeth. I mean when you paying someone to brush your teeth for you.
That TV ain't shit. In the TV room I got ten couches made out of lion leather, you know how much that shit cost? Dizzamn. Set a nigga back if he ain't ridin' on so much bank like me. I got a 75 inch plasma laser TV, that shit is from Sony and it's a prototype and shit, ain't even released it in Japan or anything. I've got a Playstation 2 in there too, but it is a double-triple PS2, like they took three of them and put all the good stuff in one so it's better and I got me an advance copy of Tekken 4 with the part where you can kick bras off the women. That shit is dope. When I watch TV I got my own satellite, and my shit is so high tech it got a remote I hired a NASA guy to work. No shit dog, he sits in a fur lined diamond chamber and watches me through a little slot. When I give him a thumbs up he changes the channel, when I give him a thumbs down he activate the bass tube that run fifty meters underneath the pool and set off car alarms in Ireland.
Outside I got all my animals. I love me some animals. I got a whole barn full of Rotweillers and them suckas is mean. I used to turn them loose on the property when I go on vacation or on tour but shit, I come back and they chewin' on buses and fuckin' jet planes and shit. I also keep some horses. Horse racin' is the sport of kings and I got me one fast ass motherfucker named Blingomatic Loc Ridaz. I chase that thing around all day with a bat and I can never catch him, he runs like wind, like a stream man, over the rocks and shit. Just makes me feel good inside to see him running, beautiful animal, but I catch his ass I'm gonna bust his teeth out because then I know a nigga be lazy.
You want ice? Nigga I got ice, if you don't see it on my frozen fingers I show it to you in the guest house. Every wall is made out of diamond and there is smaller diamonds set into the big wall diamonds so that the whole thing sparkles and shit, watch your step, nigga be falling and cut himself into pieces. I called up my pipe-hittin' nigga Bill Gates and was like "Nigga, hook a nigga up with some robots" he was like "eeeerrr sir we don't make robots, although I would be happy to accommodate your operating system needs" and I was like "Shiiiiit, I operates on a system that a nigga needs some fuckin' robots. That's all I'm saying Bill." Before I know it there is a truck rolled up to the guest house with robots, and I put zeros on that check until those robots was made out of diamonds, call them my Colla-poppin North Pole Cuttin' Crew. Them some sharp motherfuckers, watch your step, but they will be all "beedee beedee beedee, would you like another drink sir?" and you just say "You know I want three" and there is Criscups shootin' out they heads right into your hand.
Now I gots to get back to countin' my money and paying people to polish diamond buttons on the jackets of the people I'm paying to polish the ice on my jackets, so you all get up out my house.
We're not going to solve gun massacres with bad manners, people.
The guns are gone. Now what happens to all those paper targets? Don't tell me you forgot about the paper targets. The ones hanging from little clips on fancy clotheslines at shooting ranges. With no guns to destroy these legions of paper bastards, they go unchecked.
A sign proclaiming "BACTA: DA FUTURE" marks the town's medical clinic
1998: I upload dave.pcx, and change the course of history
Set goals for yourself, and fulfill them. Absurd! Only in video games!
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