Saturday, June 18, 2011

the show goes on.

Once upon a time [this last Monday] I was running right about here [A]. And then, coming from right about here [B], I hear a volley of nine or ten or eleven shots go off between a pair of undercover cops and a few gangstas. No joke. I ran “like the dickens,” as my grandpa used to say.

Concurrent with this event was Lupe Fiasco on my iPod telling me that

say hip-hop only destroy
tell em’ look at me boy
hope your son don’t have a gun
and that would be a d-boy


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