I am totally out of touch.

Ok. I woke up this morning and was browsing the television and I came across a rap music video. It featured the ugliest (since Flavor Flav) black man I have ever laid eyes on. I tried to listen and give him the benefit of the doubt (I was quite the triple six mafia fan when I was 14 or 15) but I just didn't get it. So I googled the lyrics. I still don't get it. So let's pick it apart.


Back On My Grizzy lyrics(What is a grizzy? According to dictionary.com, its not a word, so I don't know)
Bitch im back on my grizzy, Young money where ya at?,
Two tables and a mic, Tell the Dj run it back,
Bitch im back on my grizzy, Young money where ya at?,
If you fuck wit Younh Money, Yougn Money where you at?,
Like the energizer bunny wit a battery pack, Boy that drummer keep drummin,
like B-r-r-at-at-at-tat,
Or B-r-r-rump-bum-bum-bum, (I can't imagine how many pills he had to pop to become creative enough for what you have read so far)
Im so young but im a Giant like Fe-Fi-Fo-Fum, (this is unbearable)
Just bought a new crib, And insides so dumb,
Got some money put away, incase the hurricane come,
Im a fuckin shame huh?(YES
yea i know yea i know,
I go out the country to get all my clothes and my hoes,
And i go out my way just to get my dro and my doe, (DRO SOIUNDS FAMILIAR, DOE IS A DEER- A FEMALE DEER)
Cause, I love it more than i do my hoes yes i doess,
I got gasoline comin out my pours, Imma torch, ((I THINK WE HAVE ANOTHER HUFFER)
I got glasses like that white boy Scott Storch, (I GOOGLED HIM, HE'S A CANADIAN RECORD PRODUCER)
And a porshe, I got license for tha scortch,
Snipers at your porch, Rifles by the forts,
And we shoot up courts, The judge juss a bitch, (Seriously. This is what kids are listening to.)
The jury suck dick, Im a eastside blood, (Ok, according to Snoop Dog, a Blood is a gang)
And i dont smoke that crip, I smoke that kutch, (and a crip is a gang. apparently from the WEST side)
First name Bubba, First names Young, Last name Stunna, Carter in the office, (your name is bubba Young Stunna Carter? Well, NOW I understand why you're so ANGRY! Your mother hated you!)
Take notes when im talkin, Smooth as a cruz boat floats when im walkin,
I boast cause im ballin, I boast to be ballin,
When im on the phone wit bitches man the money keep callin,(wha?)
You aint satisfied till ya son'll be callin,
Tellin you where to leave the money in the mornin,
Ok you wanna zombie mover instead,
Thats when you walk in ya house and everybody dead, (again. I'm not sure.)
I can take a shit where i stand, (I'm sure that's very impressivce, but please do NOT take a shit where you stand.)
Where i stand...and watch you pussies piss in ya pants, (I think Lil' Wayne is into Golden Showers)
You aint a man your a hoe, I can kill him with the flow, (actually, it's "you're". I dont know what the flow is. I thought it was rapping, but does it actually kill? Lets ask Tupac.)
And then play the guitar at the fuckin funeral,
Big guns so they drinkin big shots,
And my gam go Saddam Hussein and missile launch, T
he Corrain call me Wayne Chain, Listen ma,
i dont know karate, but after the brain,(my head hurts)
i kick you out, You niggas suck like tony romo, no homo, (WHAT? WHY is Bubba so ANGRY?)
And im all about my money, i get paid for promo yeaa,
Im the man in this bitch, they say money talks wel..
Im tha ventriloquist, And if i ever jump, ( I think we should stop in a minute. These lyrics are so deep I can't even work with them)
il prolly land in ya bitch, (GROSS!)
Boy that hoe colder than my hand and my wrist,
Boy im more cooler than a fan and a mint,
And when im done this track we'll need a couple bandages,
I be wit savages and im above average, Im a crazy ass star like a fuckin asterick, (ok. THAT was funny)
You niggas cant see me, im on my casper shit, (it gets better)
Runnin so much game, i fuck around and lap a bitch,
If love like a grocery, i juss bag a bitch,
And you kno im gonna score like Deion after picks,
Im rollin on a pill, she get that mornin after dick,
And when my roll came down guess whut i did after it,
I popped and took some patrone shots,
I pop popped and took some Grey goose shots,
I pop popped...yea.. Young Money bitch, and if you niggas wan' do it ,
we chop chop, Leave ya back on tha block, We pop cops, ( I told you it gets better)
And there aint no rights on my block,
I got shop, I got that dro, i got them pills,
i got that yay, Give it to them hoes and watch them bitches freak away...

Ok. I'm sorry to have exposed you to all of that, but this was actually one of the more creative set of rap lyrics I came across. THIS is you answer as to why there are no respectful teens around. Their parents think just because a rapper is popular he is okay. Just because Jay Leno had him and promoted his album that his lyrics are socially acceptable, and they aren't. This idiot just made killing cops and judges, popping pills and vodka, rolling, gang activity, muder, and STDs, all sound completely awesome. And his album is number 1. Think about it.
During Black History month my sister told me that each day the class would pause as the principal read a short biography on a notable Black Figure. Guess who was included in that list? TUPAC Shakur. Think about that.
And while you're at it, PLEASE google an image of Lil Wayne.
Everyone is so worried about kids smoking pot. They aren't smoking pot. They're drinking the Robitussin and Huffing your Dust-off! They're stealing your batteries and bleach and cooking meth. They're putting ropes around their necks and cutting off their oxygen for a buzz.
I don't know about you, but I hope I bust my kids with POT.