Fuck ’em

(Akshen/Lil J/Willie D)


“Fuck em, fu-fu-fuck fuck em all”

“I bury those cockroaches”

“What’d they ever do for us?”

“I bury those cockroaches”

“Fuck you, mang!”

[Willie D]

I gotta bone to pick cause I’m sick

Of you motherfuckers talkin shit

We pick you up, you put us down and I’m mad

Time to talk about your dog ass


Jealous motherfuckers it seems wanna suck a dick

“How do you do em?” Fuck em up like a cardiac

So if your curious get a blood donor

Cause I’mma fuck you up so bad, that you’re momma won’t know ya

I pity the fool who diss the mastermind of wreckin shit

Now let me tell ya somethin bitch

Get yaself headstone and a box of pine

Cause when I catch up with ya, ya ass is mine

The line is drawn, word is bond

The motherfuckers who crossed it are dead and gone.

Punk motherfuckers gonna suck a dick


[Bushwick Bill]

“Yeah money”


what you think about this bullshit?

[Bushwick Bill]

Fuck those unknown motherfuckers

With a 10 foot pole that can’t touch us

Before the Geto Boys came around

You can’t front their clout, H-town was no town

Yeah we know you still skeptic

Cause we ain’t kissin no God damn ass to be accepted

And if you’re waitin on that to happen sucka

You’ll be a waitin motherfucker.

Shit outta luck, stuck and got fucked

Fo’s up to those who down with us

And to you other mothafuckas in the atmosphere

I’m sayin fuck you loud and clear


[Bushwick Bill]

Radios, newspapers, TVs

Spreadin lies across the seven seas

Many people thought we couldn’t endure

Niggaz are buyin now they ain’t so sure

“Billboard” has us check out our status

I don’t understand you hoes, whats the matter

[Willie D]

The motherfuckers are sick

Constipated, cold fulla shit

They tried to keep us off the market

Straight up hoe shit, they had to stock it

My bank don’t pat no monkeys

Cause I kick mo’ ass than a donkey

I gotta pump but I will jump

Yous a punk or a one-on-one ya run to the trunk

If you’re motherfuckin fear looks at you

I’m Willie D and I came to say, Fuck you!

Fuck you has been stated by the underground master

Show me a hacidity bitch and I’ll blast her

Fuck you is what ourselves should do

And spit on ya nasty ass when I’m through

You don’t like me, cause what ya see is a figure

I’m a for real ass nigga

I won’t iron your clothes or pay rent at your place

There ain’t a damn thing baby about my face

[Bushwick Bill]

The whole faculty’s on crack

You say I can’t wear my hat, but yo, fuck that

You call yourself teacher, but whats bein taught?

How to fuck kids and not get caught?

How can your teacher reach ya

They’re too busy in the halls tryin to fuck the other teachers.

[Ready Red]

Fuck the motherfuckin critics,

Fuck newspapers

Fuck the radio stations

And fuck your parents against rap

We buried ya fuckin cockroaches

[Willie D]

To every motherfucker who diss my crew

I’m sayin fuck you, now what you hoes wanna do?

I got an arsenal in my Blazer for instance

Some shit that’ll shake the ground so keep ya distance

Parents confiscate my tapes

Sendin letters and shit talkin bout how they hate

The album controversy’s they’re rebellin

I don’t give a fuck cause the shits still sellin

So this is how the D’ll respond

I’mma cuss my ass off for your daughters and sons

And if you don’t like it, spouse,

You can suck my dick until your lips fall off

I’ve had it up to here with this bullshit

To each I preach without a pulpit

Calls I don’t do, nails I don’t chew

Whenever I fix my mouth to say, FUCK YOU

[Al Pacino]

“I bury those cockroaches”

16. liferants

pretty pass the prissy missies

marching down the marble hall. its model day at the xbi, i don’t know what we do with these girls but i see them every few months and then i don’t. im sure its for a set up here or a fakeout there.

nothing distracts criminals, who are normally men, than a beautiful woman who suddenly pays attention to them.

ive never had to use a model before and now that im in chopper one i have even less use for them, which is good. cuz it is a double edged sword, you know.

a few months back. could it be a year? wow, i guess it was nearly a year ago. one of the models spotted me when i still was working at a desk.

tony pierce?


the bus blogger?

no, im the other one.

she said, no you’re not, you’re The one. god, i really love your stuff i totally didn’t even think that you were serious about really working at the xbi but wow, here you are and stuff.

i looked around my cubicle and i said, yep. this is it.

so do you type your blog here on this computer?

no, i do it at home at night and then during my breaks i edit it.

what’s the best thing about being a blogger, tony?

the social status.

what’s the worst thing?

when people meet you and get to know you, they see the real side, and usually they don’t like it and then they blow you off and then its sad.

i would never blow you off.

i know you wouldn’t. now please. don’t tell anyone i really work here.

want to have drinks tonight?

i don’t drink.

oh come on, a shot of rum?

she was tall and lean. short hair. i like it better long. she had a suede skirt on. i remember that so well because it made me think that they do zero physical labor. here i had been on the streets where you get splinters, cuts, bruises, broken bones, shot at, all sorts of things in your shoes, in your hair, and there were people at the same office who were serious about their suede skirts.

maybe at the christmas party you can feel me up, i said, and went back to typing.

to you.

funny how the marble rolls this way then that then stops then picks up speed from an invisible hand and rolls

right off the edge.

only to be licked at by a dog who will swallow it and not choke


for God loves dogs and he loves us even more.

15. edblogg

ashley sends me pictures because she knows i like pictures of pretty girls

she doesnt like me looking at other girls so she just sends pictures of herself.

i dont mind.

the clock just spins around. every night on the train home i have visions of sugar cubes dancing in my head, but when i pour myself to bed and turn off the christmas lights i see i have accomplished very little. i am killing the carpal. it’s nearly gone.

the phone rings but its not you. it rings and it rings. i want to switch over to how the deaf have it where the lights flash instead of the ringing cuz i like blinking lights and i love to give my neighbors the impression that something very mysterious is happening in my bachelor pad, but its all very obvious.

opened the front door last night to collect my mail. i get a tremendous amount of mail for a man with no credit cards, and a fat white cat, spotless, greeted me with a meow.

totally startled me. at first i thought it was a stray but the hair was so freshly groomed, it must have been a neighbor’s cat. it meowed cuz it was hungry? it wanted to be petted? it wanted to be a dog?

if it were a dog i would have let it in, instead i said, sorry little cat, stay outside and eat the mice.

there are no mice in my little courtyard behind the white picket fence.

and i like to keep it that way.

chatted on the instant messenger a little. warmed up some chicken that i had george forman grilled sunday night. i cooked up six breasts on sunday and i will eat them each night with a baked potato and either a can of green beans or a can of peas. im so easy to please you have no idea.

i once had a houseguest for a very short period of time. a russian girl. spectacular. she didnt know any english and i didnt know any russian. she wanted to move to new york city and needed a place to stay for a week. i had a futon mattress. i made chicken and peas and potatoes for her every night and we drank vodka because i figured she’d like that. the vodka just made her cry so we switched over to rum.

she read and we listened to jazz and at night she would suck me off and curl up on the futon.

im probably in the very low percentile of bachelors who dont think that the bj is the pinnacle of human contact. i think it’s nice. i think its a really nice gesture. i think visually it can be spectacular, and its loaded with symbolism. but unless youre driving somewhere and the girl is bored, or if youre just being naughty in a public place, i could live without it and it would be fine.

i did date a chinese girl in frisco once who told me that she just loved having it in her mouth. she said some guys just love sucking on tits and she was just a girl who always wanted that there.

i think my pale skinny russian guest was like that because the look in her eyes was much differnet than how she looked when she did the dishes after our meal.

anyway, now its hard for me to think about bbq chicken and peas and potatoes and not think of her.

today i will go to the publisher for the final time and beg and give him all the money i have and expect the lowest of quality and the absence of any customer service whatsoever. maybe thats why my blogger header isnt the cheeriest.

riley dog

there goes mc brown

kicking ass again.

can this be? can i really have nothing of any substance to write about? my fifteen minute break has just started and i look at you, blog, and i think to myself, i got nothing.

chatted with sarah last night and she asked me what my favorite color was and i said pink but i was being dirty. sweet girl didnt even fall for it.

train was fine, bus was fine. two mexican lovers held hands all the way down wilshire. the girl was gorgeous and looked up at her truest and she had beautiful hair, dyed red in parts, nice lips, nice teeth, long lashes. her man had closed shaved hair. not even an eighth of an inch of hair. he stood up in the bus as she sat. it was crowded.

white guy trying to be black got on the bus. earings in each ear. baggy pants baggy jacket and a mets cap on sideways. he tries to pay the man but theres a fat lady right there who wont move into the bus.

how am i supposed to get passed you? he says. she huffs and steps aside.

crazy thing is in twenty seconds theres gonna be another bus and twenty seconds later yet another. still people pack in because, well, if they were bright, they probably wouldnt be riding the fucking bus.

myself included.

someone tapped my shoulder as i held on while we flew down the miracle mile. i turned around. it was an angel.

she looked at me and i suddenly felt filed with guilt.

her eyes said everything she judged me she had pity on me but not as much as disgust.

havent you gotten everything?

dont you get enough attention?

i had to look down but still i could hear her.

arent you getting enough tail?

isnt it young enough?

fresh enough?

dont you get enough channels on tv?

dont you get enough free porn and music from the internet?

the bus slowed down and stopped but it wasnt my stop.

i had no answers for her.

she was so right, so right.

the guy with the mets cap squeezed his way back through the packed bus towards the front to exit thru the front door and i watched to see if he would say anything to the fat woman.

when i turned back around to get judged more the angel was gone.

just like that.

No Left Turn Unstoned