HEY YALL IM NEW ON HERE, HERE ARE SOME SAMPLES FROM MY NEW BOOK. I KNOW THIS SITE IS ABOUT MUSIC, BUT IMMA DO MY THANG HERE IF ITS ALRIGHT WITH YALL! LOL!...MAKE SURE YALL GO PEEP IT IF YOU LIKE TO READ...IF YOU NEED MORE INFO HIT ME UP IN A NOTE OR YOU CAN FIND IT HERE THE BOOK IS TITLED, "DONT EEM TRIP." MUCHS THANX 2 THICK, & ALL MY REAL GUYS FROM THE OTHER THREADS ON THIS SITE WHO SET ME STRAIGHT. MY BAD, ALTHOUGH IT WAS FUN>//A hip hop fictional romance about fining love when it seems to be bogus. Coraz wants to try something different. She's classy, well educated and yet and still, street savvy. It is a younger man who stop at nothing to grab this ghetto queen. WILL CORAZ CONTINUE TO BLOW MILL OFF? OR WILL MILL BLOW HER AWAY? Peep dont eem trip and the sequel, "GOD I RESPECT YA GANGSTA." This is all of the dirt that the streets of Milwaukee can make a young girl do to survive when shes not born with a silver spoon, trapped in the system, and actually sees a baby's head blown off close up. She goes to jail and comes out to find the omnipresent spirit of God in the streets, running to the institution of education. THIS AND TELLING HER STORY IS her GOD SEND.
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HERE'S A SLICE FROM THE/ GANGSTAFIED POOH/ CHAPTER
Mill met her at the first downstairs door in boxers. He was looking at her with desperation in his eyes as he took the food from her clenching grip. He followed her up the stairs and back into his apartment. Zhantrel called her cell phone explaining that it was his condom, and that he was so drunk, and that things had gotten so heated with the last girl he had brought home that he thought that they were in his room. “Great so I slept and fucked in your fuck sheets! Oh yeah you guys! That makes it all better. Thanks! I feel so warm and tingly inside.” She ended the call and looked at Mill with rage. They both walked back into his room and sat down to talk more. He asked her if she could pass him a shirt and told her to get it out of the top drawer. When she opened it and reached in grabbing a shirt, she saw a gun!
She hurriedly closed the drawer and he was looking dead at her. He had suddenly scared the shit out of her with his gaze. “What’s wrong with you girl?” “Oh, um, um, I got this thang later and um hey, I’m late already.” He cocked his head to the side and looked at her with suspicion, “You ain’t got no-where to go. You ain’t goin no where cuz now you know my secret. Yes I have a gun, and yes, you should be scared, considering the fact that you think that I’m just another nothing ass nigga. Well fine Coraz. Confession time. Yes, I robbed people if I had to when I was younger, now I just keep that for safety reasons. Yes I have sold dope, and I just quit once I met you, so my black-ass wouldn’t end up back in jail.
“Naw, but for real,” she was trying to get her purse from the side of the bed when he grabbed her hand. “Naw but for real my ass Coraz! He stood up and she backed away with fear as he took another step. “I know what you are thinking, but come on now baby! You teach African American Culture to the all little soldiers out there in the school. Boys and Girls! Do you know that one day I stopped by your class room and I was intrigued with all the real-ass shit you were spitting to those kids about this world, and what they are up against? You made a believer out of me Coraz! You really made me want it all, so I quit selling dope, right then and there. You inspired me to do that baby. You have showed me nothing but real love since you let your guard down. It must have been hard to show yourself some love and get that degree huh?” Coraz looked at him, but was still silent. “What dirt did the ghetto make you do Coraz? Huh? Was it dancing? Hoeing? Sweating the street pharmacist, because he had a cold ride with candy-apple paint, and you were walkin? How many abortions did you have Coraz, cuz you got three different men you have kids with! We just had sex without a condom and I’ve only known you for five months! But you let me do that didn’t you? You can’t tell me you were never pregnant until you turned nineteen!”
HERE"S A SLICE FROM THE RENEGADE BLADE CHAPTER
It was a collage of 50 something losers that you always see at the club.
“Wooooo, if I was about twenty years younger boy, I would a had you call-in my name in the church services! Save me Daddy, save may!” One of the elders shouted like a pastor and stomped his ran over gators three times into the red stained carpet. The men laughed it up, while dog pawing each other and shaking their legs. They acted as if their spasmodic convulsions and merry courtyard fool act was being envied by the younger men.
She hated it when old- ass, “fine in their mind,” men, were standing around looking like a no-hit wonder, do-whop group, talking about all of the pimpin’ that they used to do. She could leave the building and return 4 years and ¼ of a year later, this very night, and those same mafucka’s she left in the club tonight would still be up in here in wheelchairs if they could. Saying the same tired lines and fuckin with each other’s remote control wheelchair switches.
The sad part about it was that they will all tell you that they are still cold mackin the dames. The truth is that it really does take them about 4 years and ¼ of a year to finally get some new cooch. At the end of the bar, by herself, she ordered a beer, and lit up her social cigarette. The only time she really smoked was socially.
She then paid the bartender, grabbed her things and walked dancingly towards the birthday-girl’s crowd, across the room. She decided to sit by T.C. and Lela so she could hide from all of the queers who were eyeing her up. Sure as shit stank, one guy in his granny’s long white fur coat came to the table and leaned in behind Lela to reveal a hideous, box office, smashed face right into Coraz’s. So, Coraz looked up to see who was there so close to her, “JE-sus!” she jumped in her bar stool as Lela and T.C. almost died laughing. He had the nerve to hang on to the little remnants of under close scientific inspection, may have been at one time, a curl. The lining around his forehead must have punched the clock and went on break, like, forever, and his skin closely resembled stucco.
No! Gravel. And woodchips. And dried mud. And sand, hell, everything you can fix a crack with, and somebody desperately needed to loan this brother some hard grit sand paper soon. “They call me Renegade Blade, cuz I got it made. Why don’t you come on out this here shade and roll with a real playa?” He then smiled to reveal---what? The gold tooth. Second from the front, gums and goatee to match. “Um, um, I’m waiting for my man to walk in here any minute now. I don’t want him to think I ain’t any good.” Coraz lied, then faked coughed and looked at her friends for help with pressing eyes and raised brows for a way out. T.C. then asked Lela what she wanted at the bar before laughing his way over there. “O.K. baby, I’ll be over here waiting for you to slip on outta here with me later on,” replied Blade. He sucked his teeth then smiled at her. He stood there for about fifty-five seconds. Staring. Smiling. Still. Motionless, like a wax pimp at a far into the future, ghettotastic museum exhibit.
“What is he waiting for?” she had thought. Coraz tapped her beer bottle and whispered, “Ohhhh-KAY!” to her self so Lela could hear her, and then Lela started to snicker into her bottle. He then grabbed Coraz’s hand to shake it. “Nice meeting you doll-face,” he then quickly kissed Coraz’s hand as fast as he could, dropped it with conceited smoothness, turned, and then floated away like an evil, winter wizard. “Excuse me while I go wash pussy-eater’s breath off of my hand before it eats away my lotion, and then the skin. I think I might even throw up,” Coraz told Lela before she excused herself to the bathroom. Inside of the ladies restroom, were three women who had apparently just met earlier? Coraz could tell this by their conversation.
“I know I don’t know you girl, but you should dump his ass!” said the woman to the other woman, who was laid out on the dirty, wet floor, wasted with her legs wide open in her sequined, out-dated, 80’s dress. “Yeah, I got yall’s number, and I had a really good time tonight. I’m glad I met ya’ll. Hey? You alive? Get up off of the floor, uh, what’s her name again? Shit, whatever your name is, I gotta pee. Get up! Fix her dress and help me get this drunk bitch up! Her fuckin panties are showing and she done pissed on her self. Hey! Where you stay at?” the other woman bent down to try and pull her up, stumbled to the side, tripped over the laid out woman, fell on her, and laughed while she got up and braced her self up against the opened, single stall. “She gone take you home, ok?” said the other woman loudly.
“Shit! I don’t know her like I don’t know you! She better raise up her skirt, (Burp…), and catch a cab, hell!” The two girls cracked up with intense laughter. Coraz knew exactly what a situation like they were encountering was like. She called it a, “Fem-Un-Relatia-toi.” That was when three women who didn’t know each other meet somewhere drunk, have a good-ass time together like the best of friends while male bashing, exchange phone numbers like they really care for one another, embarrass the shit out of each other, diss each other, and never call or acknowledge each other again. Coraz just washed her hands with no further opinion towards the situation she had once been in her self, and adjusted her features before returning to her table, glad that it was not her this time! When Coraz returned to the table, Zhantrel was standing next to T.C. with his arm around him talking like they were old lumberjack drinking buddies. As Coraz sat down, he looked at her quick and introduced himself haphazardly. “Hey, how you doing? I’m Zhantrel. So check this out man…”
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HERE'S A SLICE FROM THE/ GANGSTAFIED POOH/ CHAPTER
Mill met her at the first downstairs door in boxers. He was looking at her with desperation in his eyes as he took the food from her clenching grip. He followed her up the stairs and back into his apartment. Zhantrel called her cell phone explaining that it was his condom, and that he was so drunk, and that things had gotten so heated with the last girl he had brought home that he thought that they were in his room. “Great so I slept and fucked in your fuck sheets! Oh yeah you guys! That makes it all better. Thanks! I feel so warm and tingly inside.” She ended the call and looked at Mill with rage. They both walked back into his room and sat down to talk more. He asked her if she could pass him a shirt and told her to get it out of the top drawer. When she opened it and reached in grabbing a shirt, she saw a gun!
She hurriedly closed the drawer and he was looking dead at her. He had suddenly scared the shit out of her with his gaze. “What’s wrong with you girl?” “Oh, um, um, I got this thang later and um hey, I’m late already.” He cocked his head to the side and looked at her with suspicion, “You ain’t got no-where to go. You ain’t goin no where cuz now you know my secret. Yes I have a gun, and yes, you should be scared, considering the fact that you think that I’m just another nothing ass nigga. Well fine Coraz. Confession time. Yes, I robbed people if I had to when I was younger, now I just keep that for safety reasons. Yes I have sold dope, and I just quit once I met you, so my black-ass wouldn’t end up back in jail.
“Naw, but for real,” she was trying to get her purse from the side of the bed when he grabbed her hand. “Naw but for real my ass Coraz! He stood up and she backed away with fear as he took another step. “I know what you are thinking, but come on now baby! You teach African American Culture to the all little soldiers out there in the school. Boys and Girls! Do you know that one day I stopped by your class room and I was intrigued with all the real-ass shit you were spitting to those kids about this world, and what they are up against? You made a believer out of me Coraz! You really made me want it all, so I quit selling dope, right then and there. You inspired me to do that baby. You have showed me nothing but real love since you let your guard down. It must have been hard to show yourself some love and get that degree huh?” Coraz looked at him, but was still silent. “What dirt did the ghetto make you do Coraz? Huh? Was it dancing? Hoeing? Sweating the street pharmacist, because he had a cold ride with candy-apple paint, and you were walkin? How many abortions did you have Coraz, cuz you got three different men you have kids with! We just had sex without a condom and I’ve only known you for five months! But you let me do that didn’t you? You can’t tell me you were never pregnant until you turned nineteen!”
HERE"S A SLICE FROM THE RENEGADE BLADE CHAPTER
It was a collage of 50 something losers that you always see at the club.
“Wooooo, if I was about twenty years younger boy, I would a had you call-in my name in the church services! Save me Daddy, save may!” One of the elders shouted like a pastor and stomped his ran over gators three times into the red stained carpet. The men laughed it up, while dog pawing each other and shaking their legs. They acted as if their spasmodic convulsions and merry courtyard fool act was being envied by the younger men.
She hated it when old- ass, “fine in their mind,” men, were standing around looking like a no-hit wonder, do-whop group, talking about all of the pimpin’ that they used to do. She could leave the building and return 4 years and ¼ of a year later, this very night, and those same mafucka’s she left in the club tonight would still be up in here in wheelchairs if they could. Saying the same tired lines and fuckin with each other’s remote control wheelchair switches.
The sad part about it was that they will all tell you that they are still cold mackin the dames. The truth is that it really does take them about 4 years and ¼ of a year to finally get some new cooch. At the end of the bar, by herself, she ordered a beer, and lit up her social cigarette. The only time she really smoked was socially.
She then paid the bartender, grabbed her things and walked dancingly towards the birthday-girl’s crowd, across the room. She decided to sit by T.C. and Lela so she could hide from all of the queers who were eyeing her up. Sure as shit stank, one guy in his granny’s long white fur coat came to the table and leaned in behind Lela to reveal a hideous, box office, smashed face right into Coraz’s. So, Coraz looked up to see who was there so close to her, “JE-sus!” she jumped in her bar stool as Lela and T.C. almost died laughing. He had the nerve to hang on to the little remnants of under close scientific inspection, may have been at one time, a curl. The lining around his forehead must have punched the clock and went on break, like, forever, and his skin closely resembled stucco.
No! Gravel. And woodchips. And dried mud. And sand, hell, everything you can fix a crack with, and somebody desperately needed to loan this brother some hard grit sand paper soon. “They call me Renegade Blade, cuz I got it made. Why don’t you come on out this here shade and roll with a real playa?” He then smiled to reveal---what? The gold tooth. Second from the front, gums and goatee to match. “Um, um, I’m waiting for my man to walk in here any minute now. I don’t want him to think I ain’t any good.” Coraz lied, then faked coughed and looked at her friends for help with pressing eyes and raised brows for a way out. T.C. then asked Lela what she wanted at the bar before laughing his way over there. “O.K. baby, I’ll be over here waiting for you to slip on outta here with me later on,” replied Blade. He sucked his teeth then smiled at her. He stood there for about fifty-five seconds. Staring. Smiling. Still. Motionless, like a wax pimp at a far into the future, ghettotastic museum exhibit.
“What is he waiting for?” she had thought. Coraz tapped her beer bottle and whispered, “Ohhhh-KAY!” to her self so Lela could hear her, and then Lela started to snicker into her bottle. He then grabbed Coraz’s hand to shake it. “Nice meeting you doll-face,” he then quickly kissed Coraz’s hand as fast as he could, dropped it with conceited smoothness, turned, and then floated away like an evil, winter wizard. “Excuse me while I go wash pussy-eater’s breath off of my hand before it eats away my lotion, and then the skin. I think I might even throw up,” Coraz told Lela before she excused herself to the bathroom. Inside of the ladies restroom, were three women who had apparently just met earlier? Coraz could tell this by their conversation.
“I know I don’t know you girl, but you should dump his ass!” said the woman to the other woman, who was laid out on the dirty, wet floor, wasted with her legs wide open in her sequined, out-dated, 80’s dress. “Yeah, I got yall’s number, and I had a really good time tonight. I’m glad I met ya’ll. Hey? You alive? Get up off of the floor, uh, what’s her name again? Shit, whatever your name is, I gotta pee. Get up! Fix her dress and help me get this drunk bitch up! Her fuckin panties are showing and she done pissed on her self. Hey! Where you stay at?” the other woman bent down to try and pull her up, stumbled to the side, tripped over the laid out woman, fell on her, and laughed while she got up and braced her self up against the opened, single stall. “She gone take you home, ok?” said the other woman loudly.
“Shit! I don’t know her like I don’t know you! She better raise up her skirt, (Burp…), and catch a cab, hell!” The two girls cracked up with intense laughter. Coraz knew exactly what a situation like they were encountering was like. She called it a, “Fem-Un-Relatia-toi.” That was when three women who didn’t know each other meet somewhere drunk, have a good-ass time together like the best of friends while male bashing, exchange phone numbers like they really care for one another, embarrass the shit out of each other, diss each other, and never call or acknowledge each other again. Coraz just washed her hands with no further opinion towards the situation she had once been in her self, and adjusted her features before returning to her table, glad that it was not her this time! When Coraz returned to the table, Zhantrel was standing next to T.C. with his arm around him talking like they were old lumberjack drinking buddies. As Coraz sat down, he looked at her quick and introduced himself haphazardly. “Hey, how you doing? I’m Zhantrel. So check this out man…”