Alive and well
Posted: Fri Jun 08, 2007 2:28 am
There's no good way to do this, so it's gonna go down in here...
Douchebag, as you read these words, just know that I'm ok. In fact, I'm currently sitting in my own personal paradise. I've got fucking Benjamins in the bank, pallets of the fucking finest smelling cologne, and bitches even Slim couldn't pull after two solid hours of game-spittin' in an Abercrombie and Fitch. Life is fucking good, man.
I just couldn't say the same when I rolled with you.
Like I said...there's no good way to go about this, so I'm just going to come out with it...
I'm rolling with O'Cyrus now. I'm done with The Crew. Although I should make one slight correction...WE'RE rolling with O'Cyrus now. That's right, me and Rollins have bolted where the grass is greener, and the sluts are hotter.
Obviously now I don't need to tell you we were never abducted. But that was Rollins and I that smashed up headquarters. You might at the very least take some solace in knowing WE did not kill Dice. No, the Mexicans killed Dice. The very same pack of Mexicans that ass raped and beat the shit out of you, and then back into you. They're actually professional contract killers, and are some of the VERY best - imported straight from Mexico City.
Look...it's like this, man. O'Cyrus treats us like kings. Dude, we don't stay in anything less than 5 Star hotels. You think Quality Inn is actually nice? What the fuck is wrong with you, you fucking DICK? Those aren't nice. Those shit holes rarely even offer high speed internet, and you expected me to get work done?
Oh, and guess what? We're not riding Greyhounds across the fucking country man. Rollins rolls in a Beamer and I've got a brand new Jag. The O-Man pimps us the fuck out. We aren't fucking around anymore. We're making cash, spending cash, looking good, nailing hos, and workin' for a professional.
One more thing before I go...I should probably let you know our main focus right now is...
hunting you down and KILLING you.
AND that fat fucking loser A-Bomb (who we all hated because he smelled like rotting sour cream).
Later, brah.
Douchebag, as you read these words, just know that I'm ok. In fact, I'm currently sitting in my own personal paradise. I've got fucking Benjamins in the bank, pallets of the fucking finest smelling cologne, and bitches even Slim couldn't pull after two solid hours of game-spittin' in an Abercrombie and Fitch. Life is fucking good, man.
I just couldn't say the same when I rolled with you.
Like I said...there's no good way to go about this, so I'm just going to come out with it...
I'm rolling with O'Cyrus now. I'm done with The Crew. Although I should make one slight correction...WE'RE rolling with O'Cyrus now. That's right, me and Rollins have bolted where the grass is greener, and the sluts are hotter.
Obviously now I don't need to tell you we were never abducted. But that was Rollins and I that smashed up headquarters. You might at the very least take some solace in knowing WE did not kill Dice. No, the Mexicans killed Dice. The very same pack of Mexicans that ass raped and beat the shit out of you, and then back into you. They're actually professional contract killers, and are some of the VERY best - imported straight from Mexico City.
Look...it's like this, man. O'Cyrus treats us like kings. Dude, we don't stay in anything less than 5 Star hotels. You think Quality Inn is actually nice? What the fuck is wrong with you, you fucking DICK? Those aren't nice. Those shit holes rarely even offer high speed internet, and you expected me to get work done?
Oh, and guess what? We're not riding Greyhounds across the fucking country man. Rollins rolls in a Beamer and I've got a brand new Jag. The O-Man pimps us the fuck out. We aren't fucking around anymore. We're making cash, spending cash, looking good, nailing hos, and workin' for a professional.
One more thing before I go...I should probably let you know our main focus right now is...
hunting you down and KILLING you.
AND that fat fucking loser A-Bomb (who we all hated because he smelled like rotting sour cream).
Later, brah.
