Saturday, November 6, 2010

“Party Up” Verse I

If I gotsa bring it to you cowards then it’s gonna be quick, aight?
All your mens up in the jail before, suck my dick
And all them other cats you run with get done with dumb quick
How the fuck you gonna cross The Dog with some bum shit? Aight
If I must do battle with your cowards, then I shall do so succinctly, understand?
To all your colleagues who were imprisoned alongside me,
You may fellate me!
And all of your other compatriots you carouse with
Will be dispatched with in ridiculously short order!
However do you propose to cross the highest order of canine—myself—
And to do so with actions befitting a common derelict?
There go the gun click, nine-one-one shit
All over some dumb shit. Ain’t that some shit?
Y’all niggas remind me of a strip club, ’cause every time
You come around, it’s like, what? I just gotta get my dick sucked
Oop! There resounds the sound of my handgun’s hammer clicking into place,
Which will result in a paramedic wheeling you away.
All of you African-American males belong to be
Stripteasing in an adult entertainment venue,
For every time you visit my neighborhood, I feel (“What?”) suddenly randy,
As if I must then receive fellatio!
—Such is the extent of your emasculation!
And I don’t know who the fuck you think you talkin to
But I’m not him, aight, slim? So watch what you do
Or you gon’ find yourself buried next to someone else
And we all thought you loved yourself
But whoever it is, I am not him. Do you understand, you emaciated man?
So please, consider carefully your actions, or you are
Going to find yourself buried illegally in a previously established gravesite.
And perhaps your family all thought you had an exemplary self-image,
Which makes it doubly perplexing as to why you’d war with me.
But that couldn’t have been the issue, or maybe
They just sayin that now ’cause they miss you
Shit, a nigga tried to dis you

That’s why you layin on your back, lookin at the roof of the church
Preacher tellin the truth and it hurts
—But perhaps they’re simply highlighting your best qualities
Because you have passed to the next life.
But tarnation, an African-American male attempted to reproach you,
Which is why you’re now on your back,
Your dead eyes cast upward to the ceiling of your house of worship.
The preacher at your open-casket funeral is telling the truth
—That you acted rashly and foolishly to fight with such a champion as I—
And that truth is painful for its accuracy.

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