The legendary legend of cap-busta-nigga supreme and the pure kickassery of the legendary Udamanrecords, yo.
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Sonic walks up in the session with his dick in his hand. Fat sweet in his mouth. 24 oz can.
His eyes are tight and shiny 'cause he's smoking some kill. Don't look at him, go buy some drinks, call up some hoes if you will.
"Welcome to Burger Lord. May I take your order?"
"Aight nigga"
"Uh. I'm not black."
"Fo sho."
"Neither are you."
"You wanna get capped nigga? Yall best be cookin me up sum chicken and wattamelun. Coanbred. Uh. Did I say fried chicken? Aw yeh, nigga. Chicken. Fried. Golden, like deez chainz, yall ear? On da real. Yo."
"I didn't understand a word you just said."
"Yall best be gettin' my order ready, yall ear? Dey dont call me cap-busta-nigga supreme fo nuthin! Yo."
"What? All I ever hear them call you is fag."
"Aight nigga, u best be gittin on wit dat shit, yall 'ear?"
This is when the enraged hedgehog brandished his knife, ready to cap this white devil so hard that.. something happens. The frightened clerk is faced with a dilemma. This wannabe nigger wants food, and he wants it fast. His stomach speaks louder than his brain, but dis nigga be all heart, yo. Even the simple Burger Lord counter attendant could see it. The pathetic whatever the fuck he was, because description is unnecessary and stupid, had to ask himself; what do niggers eat? And the answer is simple, my ignorant white friend. Chicken. Watermelon. Take your pick between Root Beer or Dr. Pepper, because niggers can't tell the difference. And no nigga is complete without his daily helping of corn bread. The tragedy is that Burger Lord doesn't sell cornbread.
The unimaginative character behind the counter leans into his microphone and speaks.
"I need an order of salvatoin wings with extra godsauce, root wine, and a side order of walk-on-water-into-wine-melon. What size did you want?"
"Nigga size. Yo."
"What? We have man-size for kids, which comes with a Jesus action figure to light the way for an extra twelve-fifty, the Jesus size for men, and god's guided grande value deal."
"Ah sed nigga, yo! Dont b bringin us down, yall ear?!"
"Uh. Make that god's guided grande-"
"S-dizzle da H-chizzle!! M-dawg! Ova here, yo!"
The feminine voice of Tails the fag echoes throughout the porpus crowded fast food 'resturaunt'
"Wut wut?"
"Yall better b cummin' kwick, dawg! Shadow b sayin not only u cant flo, but dat u aint hard, nigga!"
"Wut WUT?!"
"Yuh! He sed u wasnt hard, and dat u couldnt flow"
"Naw, nigga. Naw. Naw, nigga. Naw."
"Yeh, nigga. Yeh."
So, after Sonic recieved his salvation wings, and ate them, he was off to prove to Shadow that he was the hardest nigger on the east, west, and east side, nigger. On the real.
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A giant conglomeration of Mobians in baggy pants, fake jewelry, and your general assortment nigger gear. They all whoop and holler in unison, something about backing that ass up or how it's getting hot. In her. (fo sho)
Long dong obsidian stands tall amongst the lesser niggers of the streets, right next to his one and true home-dawg, the one true pimpmasta JDawg, Jesus Christ.
BOOM BOOM BOOM.
Suddenly there is the sound of plastic wheels grinding awkwardly against paved gravel. Heads turn, crowds part and bitches gasp. Attention is directed towards S-dizzle the H-chizzle as he rolls in on a skateboard tricked out with rims that spin and a sound system with some serious bass. SERIOUS bass. The skateboard stops, as Sonic kicks it up in attempt to look even more badass in nature. Somehow, by pure luck, he pulls it off. Catching the nose of the board with his left hand, everyone stares in astonishment as the rims on the skateboard are STILL spinning.
"Wher dat nigga Shadow b hidin?"
BOOM BOOM BOOM
"Ah aint be hidin, busta"
"Wut wut?"
And more serious bass accompanies the badass introduction of this true ebony warrior.
"Nigga, yall eard me. Wut yall doin on mai turf, dawg? U's a front, busta. Yall aint no brotha, nigga, yall ear?"
"OOOOH!!" the crowd shouts.
Whoops and hollers erupt from the unruly black mob. Incoherent monkey noise.
"Naw, nigga. Naw. Naw, nigga. Naw. Naw, nigga. Naw. I'm black as night, yo! U da front, dawg"
"OOOOOHHH!!"
"Naw, nigga. Ahma so black, ah cood steal the rims off a doolee, wyl da owner b sittin on his powrch. Powrch lyt own, nigga! Wut!"
"OOOOOHHHHH!""
"But he got da powrch lyt own!" screams Tails, in his womanly voice. He is disregarded, because he is a fag. Rightfully so.
Sonic uses his pure wannabe niggerdom to come back in a way that only a true wannabe nigger could.
"Naw, nigga. Ahma so black dat fool wood gimme his rims. If dat ho cood see me, fo sho."
"OOOOOOOHHHHHH!!"
Naw, nigga. Ahma so black, when we stand nex ta eachuvva, ah mayk u look lyk Micheal Jackson, nigga."
"OOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHH!!"
"Naw, nigga. Naw. Ahma so black mai assho' taste lyk fried chicken, nigga. Fo sho."
"Nigga, u aint black. U cant even flo, fool."
"Nigga, ah can flo. Nigga ah can flo hard."
"U aint hard, nigga. U aint hard."
"Ahma so hard, nigga, ah flow harder than Amy Rose, any day udda month, foo."
"Y dont u put ur bling wher ur mouf is?"
"Wut wut?! U tryin to say sumthin bout mai grill, nigga?"
"Yuh."
"Naw, nigga. Naw. U aint gettin dis grill."
"If u kin flo, wut u skeered bout loosin it fo?"
"Ah aint skeered, mofo. Ah b showin u how ta flo, u cracka. An ahmma be takin dat chain, yall ear? Dat S chain wit da diamonds and plat."
"Aight, aight. Yall aint b takin shit, nigga. Naw."
BOOM BOOM BOOM
Suddenly the bass is back. Sonic has da microphone, and he b showin us wher it's at. Fo sho, do.
"yo, yo! mo-fo! ahma b-balling an summa-skating like ah cruel pro, touchin mah balls all ova da floor, grindin' da asphalt like Notorious B.I.G on roll, foo! now yall take grand liberties makin the sonic rap bust out like a nine millimeta death slug of whitey-capping justice, yo"
Shadow steps up with the enthusiasm of a real ghetto nigger. A ghetto nigger with jungleballs. Kind of.
"U cant match mai black, u cant match mai bling, u comin' round here talkin' shit, but u aint nothing, ah b tha blackes nigga wit all da cash, u try and match my flo, u gonna crash"
"mah buddies, we be jammin' like run DMC, stealin' ya crack right out o yo hands, dawg, ya aint neva seen it coming. blind fucka, we be too rich ta buy wid yo hoes an grills - we'z too rich to own up in da hood
"cuz ahma nigga so badass and so black, if yo jaw aint droppin, u trippin on crack, u b trippin dawg, if u think ahma front, cuz I b drinkin on a 40, and smokin a blunt"
"we be lyin' in oua beds on satu'day nights, sweatin buckets an ees not even hawt, we dun know where ta go, but we put da pedal to da metal, and we be ready ta rowl, nigga, nigga, you an me be we going nowhere slowly, but we gotta get away from da past, 'cause deres nuthin wrong with going nowhere, brotha, but we be sure we gotta go nowhere fast, yo!"
"OOOOOHHHHHHHHHH!!"
And with the shame of a thousand niggers who took back their land from white people before stealing their farming methods, Shadow has somehow been defeated. He is rushed by the unruly mob of incomprehensable apes as they proceed to steal his watch, his grill, his rings, his diamond earings, his plat, and his shoes. Suddenly the crowd parts and yay; it is Jesus, in all of his black glory. In his hand he holds the fake S chain he stole from the neck of the beaten ebony hedgehog.
He extends the bling-bling to S-dizzle da H-chizzle with a hint of god's glory.
"Yall ernded dis, yall ear?"
"Word"
"Ah gotsa special offa fo u, fo sho. Yall b cruisin in da Saintmobile wit me and mai nigga long dong obsidian, and we b goin straight ta Udaman records to meet da one, da only VDOGG!"
Monkey-like whooping ensues. Vdogg is a really big nigger, with flo dat cuts deep when he sings wit his nigga da burrrd. He ride wit da furry crew, yall ear? Cuz dat's wut u awtta do.
Fo sho.
So da gang jumped into da pinto-... Saintmobile, and dey journeyed to da far east fo sho, to ride wit da furry crew.
cornwallace/PDC AF niggakilla pimpbusta/SBAC - 2008
The king of all niggers/Niggerlips/The ebony overlord/VT2 - 2008