(no subject)
Waddup yo's ho's? This is your pimp daddy ronnie riz-at, remindin' ya'll playaz that Ronald is my slave name, I told you like fifty time, ya'll betta skip back. Guess what ya'll I got myself a tight biatch, she be all up in my ear and I wuz like, get down and suc it, bitch, and while she wuz headin' down, she miz-issed a spot and I wuz like "What about my nipplz???" Shit. We wuz at the biz-owling ally and she was hangin around with no iz-underpants on. She knew I was comin'. I wuz like, "nice legs, bitch, wut time dey open? you look like you need a piz-imp." I told her she'd have my protiz-ection all the time, if the asiatic gives u any static, you just knock em with this piece." Lata on, we rolled into our main ghetto, Da Mall. The po-pos won't even come tru. Our friend BBB, that boi straight-up crazy, he did time in pubic skoo. And Cabin-wrecker, she had a big chip on her shoulder, till she ate it. She fat. Den I's like, "you fat, go kiz-ill yoself." Miz-egan, she da beast from da middle-east. She thinks bill Gluckman is down with the bitches and ho's. She's like a cross between Martha Stewart and Oprah, I be callin her Mothra. I's the pen-ultimate lyrisologist, I's like "Shrink, shrink, blink-ety blink, tryin ta make me think, wanna go to my sink, and vomit, clean it up with comet, earth's my planet." De otha diz-ay, me and my homies, BBB, Cabinwrecker and Miz-egan, we chartered a private jiz-et and flew ta Egypt, Ciz-airo. Chill. We checked out da pen-ulitmate ghetto in the wiz-orld, the pyrimids, yo. BBB shed a tiz-ear, I's like, baby, when dey gonna leave our people alone? He's like, "i don know, baby, I just dont know!" The shiz-inx, it's nose fell off da day before we giz-ot there. It's like fifty year old or somethin, it's mad old. It was so biz-eautiful, I had to break out into mad song. We gots a new riz-oomate, she's the penultimate lyin' ho-zat, she be doin it wit her biz-oyfriend, til the briz-eak of diz-awn. We gets ta hear about is sometimes at the briz-eakfast table, with our ham and tiz-oast, we be like "mmm, we be real hungry, for sum sausage, niz-ow" (like nine inches of it, if you pickin up what I puttin down) dat dude like forty years old! somtime Tree be rollin around in her pigsty, she be like "I wiz-ish the cliz-eaning fairy wood come" but it ain't neva gonna happin. Not Chill. She miz-ade us some cookies but they don't liz-ook like cookies, I think she tryin to poison us cuz them cookies look like diarrhea. Chill. Well, my limo's hear, gots to be goin back to the 'Bu. Chill. Peace. Out.