My Message To The Government

Struggles in the streets/you can say that I'm Thuggin it
Wanna know my reasons/just go ask the government
Watching me in poverty/you can say that they shovel it
The New Micky D’s/cuz you know that they loving it
These people in they suits/with there shirts and they ties
Come every election/It’s the same Ol’ lies
About how we can do this/and how we can do that
Really doesn’t matter if you white or black/it still remains a fact
That they don’t give a shit/unless your ass is rich
Or you informed to 5-0/and became a snitch
You see I figured it out/how the government gets paid
Outside of MY checks/that they decided to raid
Or taking money from/a business that I made
Do you know that they make money/off of people with AIDS
You think it’s a joke/acting like I’m tripping
They been have a cure/ask Magic Johnson how he living
But when a disease doesn’t kill/as fast as it’s supposed to
That’s when they decided/infect us with the swine flu
And to make more money/off the healthcare income
They changed the name/from swine to H1N1
No “Cure” yet but we’ll/have one in due time
By then/we’ll lost the/count of the lost lives
I guess we should be/thankful for our parameta’s
We at least get free/healthcare cuz we live in Canada

My Society

I have an interior motive I don't need the Shiny cars and fit women,

Societies Personality is Changing

My past Was Full Of Killins' But I'm Still Healin',

Society Has Me In Baggy Jeans Limpin Alcholic Bevarge Sippin/

In The Club Girls Booty Poppin Still Tryna Fit The Image,

Fake Personas, It Aint Real Feel Like Im Living In A Scrimmage/

The Needy Staying Poor And The Rich Still Aint Givin,

The Truth Still Hidden, Questions Being Asked But Answers still Missin/

When We Gon' Change It Wont Happen The Critics Stay Snappin,

Who Ever Tried Ended Up Resting And They Aint Nappin/

Freedom Of Speech? But Every Time I Speak I End Up Scrappin,

They Want Me Dead For The Knowledge I Possess, Im Feeling Stress,

I Decline From Society Recline In A Seat At The Church And Feel Bles

The Insult

Police “May I have your licenses and registration please”.

Driver “Infectious hell-hated foot-licker rank”

Police “What did you just say”

Driver “Infectious hell-hated foot-licker rank”

Police “Licenses and registration! I’m not asking twice.”

Driver “Thou pribbling, clapper clawed harpy”

Police “You talkin’ to me? If you’re talking to me, talk in fucking English”

Driver (Stick the middle finger and laugh)

Police “Step out of the car sir.”

Driver “Danish boil-brained bladder measle”

Police “You hear me talkin’, hillbilly boy? I ain’t through with you by a damn sight. I’m a get medieval on your ass; get the fuck out of the car. (Pulls the driver out and throws him on to the door)

Driver “Take your stinking paws off me, you damn dirty ape.”

Police “So now you wanna speak English”

Driver “Boil brained half face rude growing villainous”

Police “I’m your worst fucking nightmare, man. I’m a nigger with a badge. Don’t play games with me.”

Driver “Gleeking fast-kidneyed maggot pie”

Police “Ok that how you wanna play. Two can play that game. You. You. Mewling ill-breeding dewberry vain

Driver “Oh dear god; are you in the Shakespeare’s play?”

Police “ No, but I can tell you that I’m a big fan.”

LiL Boy

Once upon a time not to long ago, when laws were stern and justice stood, majority of people in society lived a good extravagant life. This one little boy was an exception that didn't fit that image, he did numerous things that would play games with his conscience. He was misled, by another lil' boy who preached a few words, that his weak conscience enjoyed hearing: "Me & You, we gonna make sum cash, robbin' old folks and making the dash", they went about their business, and inherited some wealth with ease.

After a year of creating trouble and causing mischief in the land, the little boy could not stop; it was like he had been possessed by a disease. He robbed and robbed one after the other; he got to a point where his conscience probably wouldn't deny him of robbing his own sister or brother. Finally the little boy met his match; he finally met up with consequence. The little boy tried to rob a man one night who was an undercover, the cop grabbed his arm, and said "Keep still, boy, you are under arrest." The cop punched him in his belly and gave him a slap, but little did he know the lil' boy was strapped, the kid pulled out a gun, and asked the undercover a simple but freighting question "Why'd ya hit me?” and set straight for the cop's kidney. He got loose, started too dashed and ran around the block.

The little boy thought he was free, but shots were fired at his head so he decided he'd head for the subway stations. He was running at top speed till he was out of breath, then he made his move to an abandoned building to get some rest. He ran up the stairs, to the top floor, kicked down the door and realized it was filled with many dope heads. He made a quick uturn outside, but there were cops all over, he dipped into a car, a stolen Nova, Raced up the block doing 83, but crashed into a tree.


The lil boy hopped out of the car, gripped his fire arm and rat-a-tat-tatted at the cops who scattered all over the neighborhood. The little boy quickly ran out of bullets, grabbed a pregnant lady and pulled out the automatic. He pointed at her head, said the gun was full o' lead, and told the cops (Back off or honey here's dead). Deep inside his heart he knew he was wrong, so he let the lady go and started to run for the freedom he was soon going to loose, the sirens sounded. It didn't take long for the cops to surround the little boy, with the drop of his gun, his glory faded away, and his story came to a closure. He was only seventeen, in a madman's body; the cops shot the kid ending the dream of my friend.

Snapshot

Hate it or love it, Toronto is home to some of the most; beautiful, sexiest, and freakiest women on earth, but I’m sorry to say that downtown Toronto is a brutal rat trap for many artificial females. I’m not pointing out their artificial personalities, but rather their bodies. Botox, liposuction, breast lift and buttock augmentation are some of the few hundreds of surgeries that Torontonians have infused themselves with. Even though it has brought jolts to life in terms of happiness, the idea of a doctor medically morphing a human body somewhat sickens me. To all those who have walked through the street of downtown and have bared witness to many males and females that have reconstructed themselves to forge a band new identity, you will agree that they look much more lush an invigorating. I’m not going to lie I like a girl with a “phat ass”, and sexy lips but plastic surgery is only a form of sketchiness as you are not the real you, you just resemble a sketch of what you wanted to look like, in my eyes you’ve become superficial your only as good as your cover. As females or males grow it is common for them to feel uncomfortable about their own skin, they possess a delicate blend of invigoration and trauma, and in order to feel revitalized they reanimate themselves reducing their chances of feeling disturbed about themselves. Throughout the ages, civilians have felt violated by many people who attack them with negative slurs; the victims of these slurs are the ones who respond to an echo of their face. The accuser, being a bully in middle-school or possibly high school forces the victim to think less of their appearance; leaving the victim thinking that they feel they need to market their face and bodies in a better way. These communities of people feel instead of being an ugly figure to society, they should transform themselves and result to plasticity. The bottom line is that even being unique has been commodified. Our newly born society embeds an anorexic image in the minds of young females; if they don't fit that image when they grow up they feel the need for a change. Many women, and surprisingly males that receive plastic surgery have intentions of being surgically effeminized, to portray a more feminine character. I feel the massive growth of plastic surgery needs to come to a halt, because many people possess natural beauty and the opportunity to deconstruct your face should only be given to people with real facial and body problems.

Humor Paragraph

North America is a geographical area of residency where there is hope alongside dope. The hope of North America, we like to think, lies in the hands of America’s new found president Barrack Obama, and I’m sorry to say the dope lies in the pockets of our Prime Minister Stephen Harper. Even though the US and Canada are very close, our political leaders are very far apart. Comparing Obama with Harper it's just not fair with each of them at the end of a stick. One has promise renewing America as a whole while the other wishes he was American. I’m taking about you Mr. Harper, who all ways looks hot under the collar as if he was the devil himself while Obama looks cool in button down shorts as if he was a baller. O ya I forgot Obama was a baller, he shoots hoops for fun, while I think Harper just gags on the nut sacks of Barrack Obama trying to be his best friend, “Is he not a straight shooter.”. In terms of speeches Obama is America’s Elvis while in Canada Harper is America’s Kfed. Smooth, soft and sexy is what Obama brings to the table making his audiences feel as if they were making love. Dull, dreadful, and dry makes you think bad of Mr. Harper’s. This is the concrete difference between the two, one’s joke, while the other is the reality. In the end Obama is a clean coal dude, while Harper is one crude dude.

Description of my city

This is my city, a city of crime, filled with hard times, danger and chaos. Around every corner lies another beautiful struggle; a location where humans portray the role of animals, living under an embedded code. Only the strong survive here or even; where survival only meets those most fit. Dirty Toronto is the name of my city, a city that has played a key role in our development as we have endured hardships, and a reason why many envision it as a beautiful struggle. I sit back and watch them form; and then watch them unravel, children running the streets with no parents, pregnant women on drugs and fathers staying up all night at the dead hooker bridge nightclub. I sell coke, crack, and many other illegal substances; I accept that my past and my present are still to be my future; a divine drug dynasty that is where my heart is calling. This is a city gone “bat shit crazy”. I am its potential to become something special, “for a metropolis to thrive, it needs a seedier side”. This is my city: Dirty Toronto.

Profile (talking 2 GOD)

Situation- A man woke up without a heart beat and was surrounded by all white, he is then escorted by two men who knew everything about him; they drop him in front of a gate, up in the sky, in front of him was a man with no face.

Dead man- WHO THE FUCK IS YOU?

No face-My child I'm your father...

Dead Man- Who you kidding I only got one pops!

No face- Are you sure, your dad left you when you was young and I brought him back to you. You know where you are right, you’re real close to heaven, and few get to step in, now tell me what you've done to deserve to be let in?

Dead man-Look I'm far from a Christian, Not big on religion, never read the bible plus I ain't done too much wrong my entire time living. I never killed, never tried too, tho I have also been lied to, Been suicidal but Stood up for what ever was true, Plus I never use your name in vain But you should know everything I'm being asked to explain.

God-I know you stole from your mothers purse

Dead Man-You can't count that, that was way back when, when I was only ten

God-It's still a sin, you robbed people, stole

Dead man-Yeah and YOU made me see jail!

God-But I also seen you lay your hands on a female, sold drugs to parents, none of that was needed, abandoned your child, you was going wild, and also done wrong to people that only wanted to see you smile, Any time you thought you were alone I was next to you

Dead Man-Look I'm only human I ain't perfect.

God- I Understand but you ain't feeding your family, they ask you a question and you speak back with profanity, now I understand you my child and I know how you’re feeling, but when you got money what’s the reason for you stealing?

Dead Man- You put me here and gave me some fucked up cards, you got problems of your own you’re creating retards, how you gonna say im committing sins when your capable of stopping feuds ,and your able to control girls that do the dodo for some matching shoes, but for some odd reason you chose not to, your the real reason I'm feeling suicidal, They tell me you exist but I don't believe it, cause how the fuck u got skinny dudes living in Africa with no food

God- I Put scriptures on this earth to show you the right way of living, showed you heaven and hell and gave u your own vision, I never give you nun you cant handle but make you pay for your sins, U think im never there but im behind those Lamborghini tints, or im sitting on the corner with the bum asking for riches, and you walk by smirking thinking I look funny, I'm every where you go I'm just not visible, you could think what you please son but im not mythical. Hope u take in my words and understand so when I see you back you should be a better man. Look at life different the next time we see each other there be no need for talk whenever we meet each other. Wake up my son; wake up with a heart beat

Accent and slang

On my way home from the spot where I was hanging with a couple buddies, we were approached by an Asian dude. The Asian dude told us me no like you, we looked at eachother, laughed at his accent and left from the spot.

The Power of Slang

A bag of area boys, who pushes all the weight, who has all the cake only gets the girls who are fake. That’s my saying. The crusty cats who’s chillin on the corner observing, learning, the one’s who are being rape, trying to escape, face it. There the one’s who gonna get a real date