Oh, the joys of being black:
What up, homie. It’s wack that 5-0 bust you shifting bricks of da funky buddha. And I ain’t just spitting, yo. Everyday we be respecting wit a 40 on da floor for our peeps in lockdown. But word up, me and my homie T-Bone, we got a hood snitch up in the pen. We gon’ cut you loose like a noose, my dukes. And you be chillin’ in the crib knocking boots with some hoodrats. Gotta bounce, dawg.