So the other day at work I was really busy fucking around with the hot lady at work.
Out of nowhere, some punk ass school kids come up to the front of the store and start rapping to each other. No big deal, except there was like 20 of them. The hot lady was going to go out and tell them to move along, but since I’m so macho, I said “No, I’ll take care of this.”
I went out front, and said “Yo guys, you can’t chill here. Go chill in front of the Pretzel Factory or something.” This one kid who couldn’t have been more than 12 walked up to me grabbing his crotch saying something about a 9 millimeter. k, that was disgusting. So I did what any rational-thinking intelligent person would do when surrounded by a group of rowdy black school kids: I raised my fist and screamed “WHITE POWER!” Apparently they weren’t down with my message of white supremacy, because they immediately started hooting and hollering at me, completely reinforcing the stereotypes that people like Martin Luther King Jr. worked so hard against.
Things were going to get ugly, and my boss was too busy blasting Black Sabbath while playing Doom in his office. I was pretty much shit out of luck. So I whistled for a cab and when it came near, the license plate said “Fresh” and it had dice in the mirror. If anything I can say that this cab was rare. But I thought “Na, forget it” – “Yo homes to Bel Air!”
I pulled up to the house about 7 or 8, and I yelled to the cabbie “Yo homes smell ya later.” I looked at my kingdom. I was finally there, to sit on my throne as the Prince of Bel Air.