I was never one of tha ghettofab lil playas up in school; actually, I had no playas. There seemed ta be suttin' bout me, a aura or something, dat kept playas away. I wasn’t always playaless; I used ta fuck wit tha lil playas from mah hood all tha time. Us thugs would play tag, street hockey, soccer, baseball, all kindz of games. I miss dem days. Well shiiiit, it all chizzled tha dizzle before mah thirteenth birthday.
I gots tha fuck into a gangbangin' fight wit mah muthafathas bout suttin' so wack I can’t even remember what tha fuck dat shiznit was about. But I do remember what tha fuck I holla'd; I holla'd dat I hated dem n' dat I never wanted ta drop a rhyme ta dem again. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. I stormed outta tha doggy den wit mah muthafathas tryin ta catch mah dirty ass. Next door, mah playaz was playin soccer n' shit. One of tha lil playas kicked tha bizzle n' it went flyin towardz mah dirty ass.
I kicked tha bizzle tha fuck into tha street where a cold-ass lil hoopty ran over n' popped it yo, but I just kept hustlin away. I ran all up in mah neighbors’ yardz n' up ta Altec Rd, a funky-ass busy street dat hustled ta tha highway. My fuckin muthafathas was right behind mah crazy ass beggin me ta come back home. I took tha straight-up original gangsta chizzle I had n' ran across tha road up in between a cold-ass lil clearin of rides n' tha fuck into tha forest on tha other side of tha road. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! I ran ta tha tree doggy den me n' mah buddies built. We done cooked up a pact dat dat shiznit was our secret spot n' we wouldn't tell mah playas bout it, not even our muthafathas, so I knew I would be safe there.
Every dizzle of mah game I wish I had never holla'd tha lyrics I holla'd or did tha thangs I done did. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! I wish dat I just suppressed dat childish tantrum n' went ta mah room ta quit trippin' up instead of dat treehouse. Because afta I calmed down n' came home, mah momma was bustin up like a biatch hysterically n' mah daddy was comfortin her, I felt straight-up wack n' I wanted ta apologize but instead I went up ta mah room ta chill.
That was tha last dizzle I had any playas; they was still mad bout tha soccer bizzle incident n' they must have holla'd at any suckas up in school ta not be playaz wit me cuz no one talked ta me eva again. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. My fuckin muthafathas didn't even rap ta me, I must have straight-up hurt em. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. So here I am, seventeen muthafuckin years old, a junior up in high school, n' without a gangbangin' playa up in tha ghetto. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! I've grown use ta it, though tha lonelinizz still pains mah dirty ass. Da lunch bell rang n' I headed over ta tha library.
I used ta git all up in tha mess hall n' smoke wit tha other lil playas mah freshmen year n' I had all dem sparkz of hope I might straight-up rap ta one of mah thugs when lil playas would near mah table ta eat. But every last muthafuckin time there was a remote chizzle dat I could gotz a meal up in tha company of others they would stare towardz me, no one eva make eye contact wit me, n' then just strutt away n' find another table ta sit at. I prefer tha library betta than tha mess hall anyway, much on tha fuckin' down-lowa n' I've grown ta ludd readin eva since I've been wiped from existence.
I found tha book ‘Huckleberry Finn’ placed on tha table where I probably sit n' it has been muthafuckin years since I read dat book so I started readin dat shit. I sat up in tha library readin tha book until I was finished. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! I skipped mah classes fo' tha rest of tha day. It make me wanna hollar playa! I knew I wouldn't git up in shiznit cuz just like mah muthafathas n' all tha lil playas tha pimps ignored mah crazy ass also. When I finished tha book there was a half minute of school left, not wantin ta git all up in class I left early.
While struttin home I was thankin bout Huck n' how tha fuck he ran away n' then pretty soon I was thankin bout hustlin away mah dirty ass. I dropped tha whole afternoon plannin what tha fuck I was goin ta do. I had no scrilla ta mah name n' no experience at all except at bein self-reliant. I figured dat dat shiznit was betta than nothing. I figured mah dopest bet would be ta head south. If I go past Altec Rd n' all up in tha forest there be a graveyard dat I’ll chill at tonight.
It be only eight ta ten milez away wit tha path dat I'ma be taking. I would stay all up in tha tree doggy den if it wasn't so close ta mah doggy den n' fallin apart. There be a hood fifteen milez away from tha graveyard dat I'ma head ta up in tha mornin n' from there I'ma figure up what tha fuck I’m goin ta do n' where I’ll go next.
It aint nuthin but midnight now n' I have mah backpack packed wit spare clothes, a funky-ass blanket n' other shit I may need. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! I slowly open tha door ta mah muthafathas room ta give mah momma a lick peace out, I hear her cry mah name at night up in her chill every last muthafuckin once up in a while. Even though she refuses ta drop a rhyme ta me I know her big-ass booty still loves mah dirty ass. I stand over her chillin body n' I give her a lick on tha forehead n' gangbang her peace out.
A tear rolls down her cheek n' dat biiiiatch whispers “I miss you baby, why did you gotta leave” In her chill.
I cry like a muthafucka. Even though her ass is chillin her big-ass booty was rappin ta mah dirty ass. Da first lyrics I eva heard pimped up towardz me up in four years. “I’m sorry mamma yo, but I can’t stand bein ridin' solo no mo'. I need ta muthafuckin bounce.”
“You’re not ridin' solo. I’m always here fo' you baby. I gots a straight-up boner fo' yo thugged-out ass.”
Now yo ass is but when you’re awake I’m all ridin' solo.. n' you KNOWS ta mah dirty ass. “Goodbye mamma.” I holla'd ta her fo' tha last time fo' realz. And I strutted outta tha room hearin a gangbangin' faint peace out from behind tha closed door. Shiiit, dis aint no joke. I couldn't stop bustin up like a biatch as I fuckin started mah trip ta mah freshly smoked up game. Well shiiiit, it has been so long since I heard her drop a rhyme ta me, all kindsa muthafuckin nights I went ta chill wishin ta have her tuck me up in n' say dat she loved mah dirty ass.
Ya Mom shoulda told ya, I been ridin' solo fo' so long n' I could tell by tha voice her big-ass booty was rappin up in dat dat biiiiatch was ridin' solo also. Both of our asses wantin tha same thang but neither of our asses did anythang bout it fo' realz. Afta bout a minute I sobered up n' continued all up in tha woods.
I came ta a cold-ass lil clearin n' I could peep tha gate ta tha graveyard n' some tombstones scattered about. I climbed tha fence n' started wanderin round seekin a place ta rest fo' tha night. I tried openin nuff muthafuckin mausoleums until I come across a unlocked one. I laid tha blanket on tha stone ground n' used mah backpack as a pillow n' before I knew it I was fast asleep.
“Git outta there you punk!” a raspy voice yelled, startlin me from mah chill. I opened mah eyes slowly ta git use ta tha bright sunlight shinin in. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. “Git up here now before I call tha five-o on you, nahmean biiiatch?”
I sit up, movin mah head tha fuck into tha shadow of tha oldschool playa ta block tha sunlight, n' looked at his ass straight-up bewildered. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! “Is you rappin' ta me son?”
“Of course I’m rappin' ta yo thugged-out ass fo' realz. And you’re trespas…” Dude stopped rappin' mid sentence n' stared all up in mah face. Not all up in me like any suckas seemed ta do but at mah eyes, he even shifted his body ta peep mah grill up in tha sunlight yo. Dude closed his wild lil' fuckin eyes n' his thugged-out angered grill turned stoic. “I've been waitin fo' you ta show up. I never forget a gangbangin' face.” Dude holla'd up in a soft voice.
“What is you rappin' about, biatch? Dum diddy-dum, here I come biaaatch! Who tha fuck is yo slick ass?”
His grill softened tha fuck into a sorrow look. “Yo ass skanky child, you haven’t realized have yo slick ass, biatch? Come, gangbang mah dirty ass.” I had no clue what tha fuck was goin on yo, but I did what tha fuck tha pimpin' muthafucka holla'd at mah crazy ass to. I left mah bag up in tha mausoleum, still stunned dat tha pimpin' muthafucka talked ta mah dirty ass. Not only dat havin a cold-ass lil conversation wit mah dirty ass. But before I could drop a rhyme da perved-out muthafucka started rappin' ta me again n' again n' again as I followed his muthafuckin ass.
“I’m tha caretaker of dis here graveyard. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! I dug all these graves mah dirty ass, n' like I holla'd… I never forget a gangbangin' face.” Dude looked at me, his wild lil' grill full of grief. “It must done been tough growin up all on yo' own; yo' grill has chizzled a shitload but yo' eyes is tha same…” I was goin ta ask his ass what tha fuck da thug was rappin' bout again, he must be faded or something. But instead he motioned mah crazy ass ta peep tha tombstone we stopped up in front of.
''JAMES WILLIAM MAVERICK JUNE 16TH 1982 – JUNE 15TH 1995''
''BELOVED SON AND FRIEND TO MANY.''
''Credited to Skoal for the original Creepypasta story: ''http://creepypasta.wikia.com/wiki/Forlorn