TAKE YOUR STABBING LIKE A MAN
What else is there to do after your mortal foe could quite possibly be fertilizing the East Lawn Cemetery? Well, two bottles of dumb coming up Vice Lord style. We got the McForty ounces to drink and then... tattoos brandishing our gang stripes. A little blood thinning does alcohol poisoning good...
I heard no word from the turd or anything else for that matter. So we needed to head back to our lair on the Westside. At the stop sign... A man rushed our vehicle.
It was a hit!
I had the window down breathing in the aroma of the sensual winds of the air on a hot summer night. Window down on the Westside during a war left me vulnerable to hits.
A short man ran out of the alley straight up to my window, arm raised. Great. Now I'm gonna get stabbed by the pumpkin man -- short and all his brains carved out. At least use a gun for the love of God. Stabbings are Luminol messy.
"I stabbed that nigga!" He yelled as his hand collided with my chest. Right down on my fresh tattoo. If I had his mother in the trunk, I would have stuffed her down his throat for giving birth to this loony.
But No professional Hit begins with announcing yourself
Like gas at a Indian restaurant, good hits are silent but deadly. It was the G.D. from the hit. He ran from the scene of the crime. He jumped in the backseat in an adrenaline rushed frenzy.
As he continued to ramble about what happened... he told the story. Him, the girl, and the King headed to the house where Dark Vader hung out. They taunted the enemy outside hoping we'd come with the land cannons any second. Jamal and his merry midget squad lumbered out returning the taunts.
The G.D. didn't want to look like Bill Cosby on prom night, so he approached Jamal and started fighting him. Jamal's two sizes smaller than Professor Clump, so he easily overpowered the G.D.
MEANWHILE BACK AT THE FARM
The G.D.'s woman started to fight Jamal's brother. The King tangled with Jamal's dwarfs. Jamal's brother pulled a knife and slashed the G.D. woman. The King threw her a knife when he got her in a headlock giving the true meanin' to woman beatin'. She stabbed him in the leg.
She tried to kick him in the baby maker only to find out it was a dust flap for cosmetic purposes. There resided no sausage there -- only a funnel cake. A Stab wound to Jamal's brother gave him enough pain to back off.
Jamal had the G.D. down giving him a Mayweather beating. The King tossed the knife to the G.D. He then used Jamal as a rock climbing wall, stabbing his way up Jamal's body neck and proceeded to give Jamal plastic surgery by slashing his face.
TUBS NEEDED A MAKEOVER
The ugly mark stab only upgraded his that not even his mother could love.
The G.D. insisted to go see his woman in the hospital. Was this guy born with his head in a cow's butt?
The Police will be there
He insisted. I obliged dirt lips and took him to see his woman. It looked clear on the outside. But so do serial killer's houses. Nice shrubs, flowers, Welcome Mat... Then you get inside and find yourself being accosted by Wild Bill trying to make a skin suit out of your skin flute.
Put the lotion on the skin -- or it gets the stab again...
Then I heard the piercing screams of Jamal volley down the hallway. "I'm dyin'! I'm dyin'! Oh, God, it hurts!" Dying will take the atheist right out a person.
I thought, "Can't you be a little quieter as you die? You may wake the dead." Dignity disappeared under a cold compress. As much as I wanted to take a Polaroid and post it -- there wasn't any Facebook back then -- so I could have made some billboards of him screaming like a baby.
There's no cryin' in dyin'.
No sooner did dumb brain G.D. get to the intake and asked what room his woman's in --
The Police blasted into the place knowing how to ruin in moment you're basking in over your mortal foe.
They threw us to the ground. We're in some big trouble. Murder charges if he dies.
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