{{NSFW}}
It was back in 83, a bunch o’ bible-humping mofos conducted some serious shit in an unknown crib. Dem mofos thought a damn cracker without any o’ his senses would be able to see God himself. Y’all no that shit motherfucker.
They believe the things dat make us human fog our awareness of fo’ever. Some ol’ ass honky was da only one to go to dis bo shit. To remove his shit, scientist and his crew did surgery to remove his senses. Although he still had control of his guns, he couldn’t talk bo shit. So he was ‘lone wit his thoughts, so dem scientists couldn’t get all up in his grill, ya dig?
Scientists listened as he talked shit ow’ loud about his mind like my boy a’ter I beat ‘em. A’ter fo’ days, the old cracker wa’ monkey-mouthin’ ‘way bout some voices up in his head. That shit’s bananas. Now dem scientist thought he be nuttier den a fruitcake, and didn’t give no rat’s ass about his shit.
Two dayz after, the bitch-ass man cried he could hear his dead-ass bitch talking to his five-dollar ass. He straight up trippin’. But the real beef was how he could run his mouth back to his bitch. Dem scientists was interested, but didn’t believe his ass ‘til that motherfucka told all this shit ‘bout their folks. At dis point, bunch o’ scientists bounced.
A’ter a week o’ talkin’ wit dem iced motherfuckers through his thoughts, his ass became distressed, sayin’ ‘em voices overwelmin’ him, yo. When he wasn’t chillin’ up in his crib, his mothafuckin ass was being bombed by hundred o’ dead crackers that refused to leave his ass alone. He threw his thug ass against tha walls o’ his crib, trying to get some pain, but that shit don’t work. He begged dem scientists fo some drugs, yo. Poppin’ peelz worked fo’ three days, til’ chillin’ was scary as not chillin’. Even in his dreams he saw dem dead motherfuckers.
Not one motherfucking day late, the cracker began to scream his ass out and claw his ‘ballz, hopin’ to get some pain up in his brain. Dem voices up in his grill be talking bout the apocalypse or some shit. At one motherfuckin’ point, his as shouted “No heaven, no forgiveness” fo’ five motherfuggin hours straight. That shit’s cray-cray. He continually begged fo’ the scientists to ice his ass, but dem scientists knew he was almost up in the big man’s grill.
Another bullshit-ass day, the old geezer could no longer talk his bo shit. He ass was fucked up, and he started takin’ bites out his arm. Dem scientists hauled their motherfuckin’ asses up into his crib so he couldn’t ice himself. A’ter a few hours, the motherfucker stopped his bullshitting around. He stared his ass at the ceiling of his crib and cried his ass out. He had to be given extra water cause of his constant bitch-ass crying. Eventually, despite his broken-ass eyes, he made eye contact with a scientist fo’ a first motherfucking time.
He whispered: “Yo, my ass has spoken with God, and His ass abandoned us,” and his motherfuckin’ ass died.
Dere wasn’t a damn thing that iced his ass.
{{hrb}}
''By ''
'