Friday, 24 June 2011

Give it to her like THIS my G

A couple days ago,
i'm sitting by the computer typing away,
and i feel someone tap me on the shoulder.

It's my freind H.

He's about 6 foot tall,
Puerto rican, and i fuck with him on the regs.

My dude usually blags me a spot on the computer
when the line is rammo.

He's a nice guy.

"Yo Timmy, what you doin' my n****r? Writin' to one o' them fly-ass London bitches?"

He's clearly bored and looking for attention.

"Erm, yeah, yeah i am. Why, you got some woman advice for me?"

His eyes light up.

"My n****r! If you wanna tell the girl to go fuck herself,
you gotta give it to her like THIS my G.."

Press Play

He then proceeds to sing this song.


One hand placed in the middle of his chest,
the other reaching high in the air in a very
dramatic fashion.

Everyone is watching.


He finishes the song,
but he ain't done yet.

"Yo Timmy, i'm tellin' you my G,
if you wanna tell her she's a bird, you know she's a bird,
she knows she's a bird and you know she knows she's a bird,
you tell her like THIS.."

Press Play


Singing is pretty common in this unit.

Most people can't sing, but try anyway.

My cellie CAN sing.


Press Play

He has a very, VERY deep voice.

Closest thing i could liken it to is the late, great,
Isaac Hayes.

I find his singing very relaxing.

Late at night,
the inmates are all locked up in
their cells and tucked up in bed.

The guards are sitting in the bubble,
flicking through confiscated copies of
Buttman Magazine.

The jail is quiet, serene and peaceful.

The only sound you can hear,
is the silky smooth voice of my cellie,
crooning away into the night.

He's sending all the gangsters, murderers.
gang bangers and drug dealers to sleep
on a cloud of pure soul.

Press Play. This is his favourite.


Sometimes i think i can hear people
in the distance faintly singing along.

Either that, or someone's getting raped.

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