'##::::'##:::'#####:::'########: ZIEGO VUANTAR SHALL BE MUCH VICTORIOUS! !! ##:::: ##::'##.. ##:: ##.....:: =========================================== ##:::: ##:'##:::: ##: ##::::::: THE HELOTS OF ECSTASY PRESS RELEASE #285 !! #########: ##:::: ##: ######::: =========================================== ##.... ##: ##:::: ##: ##...:::: "Sellin' Smack On Da Street Ain't No !! ##:::: ##:. ##:: ##:: ##::::::: Treat, Unless Yo' Leet Like Mah !! ##:::: ##::. #####::: ########: Parakeet!" !! ..:::::..::::.....::::........:: 11/12/98 by Snaf00 !! !!========================================================================!! I used to be sad because I have no job and my whole family was killed in a drive-by. No more, my friend, no more. Ever since I got my parakeet I have been living the high life. You may not understand how that is possible; you may be asking yourself "don't parakeets cost money?" "HA!", I say, "you only show your ignorance by you last statement that you made to me regarding the cost of birds in the United States!" My birdie lets me live in luxury. His name is little-b Fl0w and he is badest bird ever been up in this bitch! BOyEEEEEE!!! Little-b sells crack and he does it well, too. So well, in fact, that I won't ever have to work again. Of course, I do have to do some work so that it doesn't appear as though I am just staying with him for his money. In order to earn my keep he pimps me out on the streets for money. To this day I have been nothing but a hoe to little-b so I have made my mind up I will be a crack dealer, too!! As I sneak into little-b's room I tiptoe across the newspaper trying in vain to avoid little-b's doodies and squeak toys that are strewn across the room. After finding his secret crack stash hidden in his snuggle-bone, I run out of the house and make headway towards little-b's favorite stakes. First stop is Murray's Pet Store, I throw on a trench coat to cover up the fact that I am still wearing my hot pants and ripped halter top (little-b like his boys to wear their work clothes around the house) and I head into the store. All the little children here, looking at little doggies and kitties is a sure gold mine! I start to stake out the joint for a good mark until... "YO! BITCH WHERE LITTLE-B AT!?!?!" said a small negro positioned behind me. "YEAH! WERE HE AT, YOU TWO-BIT HOE!?" all the children shout in unison. "Tell him to get his punk ass out here, cause I'z gotz his money now, I sold my beanie babies for this dough so I'Z BETTER get my crack, BITCH!" He slaps my ass. "Now run along and don't come back without my rock, babycakes." Feeling a little bit annoyed by the wee child I whip out the vile of rock and shove it in his eye as he screams and moans in agony. I take that as my cue to leave. I run out of the store at top speed with a mob of 20 9-year-old crack fiends nipping at my heels, screaming "BITCH! Why did you give HIM all the crack!? Some of that was for me, ya know!!!" "Ya dumb hoe!" they added. As I near the park, I figure that I can rest a little and escape those little monsters (everyone knows that crack heads don't have much energy, even 9-year-old ones!) As I take a seat on a nearby park-bench I accidentally sit on a little boy who promptly removes his covering of newspapers, looks me dead in the eyes, and says "bitch, ain't you that bitch, who bitches around with that bitch bird little bitch?" I nod and he grabs my neck and says, "Ya got my blow, HOE!?" To the best of my ability I shake my head an lift my arm, pointing at the riled up mob of pet store junkies who are chasing after me. As he sees them he drops me and exclaims, "Oh, well, well, if it isn't crackhead Johnny and 47 drogues right, right. Why not come over her Johnny, SOZ I CAN BUST Y0 SHIT UP!!!" A gigantic gang war erupts all around me. Stuffed animals and backpacks are scattered across the park grounds garnished by the occasional Def Comedy Jam lunchbox. The horror is too great so I begin to leave only to see in my way... LITTLE-B FL0W! "How many times have I got to tell you baby 'pimping ain't easy'!" "HA HA HA HA!" we both laugh. Little-b sits in my hair and we stroll into the ghetto sunset. --- The moral of that story is this: only smoke crack in moderation. And never NEVER buy it from a bird and his strung out h0e! !!========================================================================!! !! (c) !LA HOE REVOLUCION PRESS! #285 - WRITTEN BY: SNAF00 - 11/12/98 !!