My F***in LIttle Dashie · 3:49am Sep 11th, 2015

I live mah game, one dizzle at a time fo' realz. A phat portion of dem minutes is uneventful, always fallin up in tha same routine: I wake up, strutt ta work, work, strutt home, then bum round until I git all up in bed. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! Some times I be bout ta hang wit mah few playas, while other times I be bout ta just play vizzle game or peep My fuckin Little Pony: Friendshizzle is Magic. Every so often, suttin' freshly smoked up n' bangin-ass happens: I hook up a oldschool playa, I find a thugged-out dollar on tha ground, or I git chased by a stray dog.

Livin up in a thugged-out dyin hood aint straight-up funk or interesting. This hood was once full of game n' color yo, but now, nahmeean?.. now most of tha houses is sagging, tha bidnizzes sit empty n' abandoned, n' nuff muthafuckin open fieldz lay barren of tha once pimped out factories dat helped drive tha economy. I had never peeped dis hood durin dem times up in thug yo, but I have peeped pictures. My fuckin mutha n' daddy lived happy, n' they could only wish tha same fo' me growin up.

Sadly, I cannot say I have bigged up dat wish of theirs.

I've fallen tha fuck into tha same dull routine: Wake, work, chill, repeat. I do have some momentz of bliss yo, but tha everyday strugglez I go all up in outweigh tha lil' small-ass momentz of joy I have. My fuckin Little Pony has helped yo, but itz still just another thang ta give mah hopes up on. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Every time I peep tha show, or one of tha ponies on a gangbangin' hustla site, I recoil a lil' bit all up in tha bright colors, tha joyful facez of tha ponies, n' tha laid back scenery of they ghetto. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! It aint nuthin but so hard ta peep dat dope ghetto, havin it so close ta mah grasp; I reach up ta bust a nut on itz warm flavas n' bright, smilin facez of tha ponies.

Only ta be stopped by mah computa screen.

I snapped back ta reality. Well shiiiit, it gets ta tha point where I'ma simply shut down mah computa n' strutt away. I do dat a lot, especially afta mah muthafathas dirtnap. I go fo' a strutt. When I feel sad, I strutt. When I feel tired, I strutt. When I feel like strutting... I strutt. Walkin has become mah second game up in a sense; I spend at least half mah dizzle outside along tha crumblin side-walks n' decayin suburbs.

I've peeped playas come n' go. Ya Mom shoulda told ya, I peeped buildings torn down, burned up, or have so much graffiti on its walls dat its original gangsta color is unrecognizable. I straight-up rarely pass any other playas on mah strolls. Most playas don't like ta peep they once dope hood, they cribs or forma bidnizzes. I don't blame dem wild-ass muthafuckas. In fact I envy dem wild-ass muthafuckas. They saw dis place wit they own two eyes, seein tha buildings still standin tall n' proud, tha lawns freshly cut, tha paved roads, n' sidewalks still intact.

Da only thang I've eva peeped dat even comes close is mah motherz paintings, each of dem colorful scenez of dis concrete ghetto. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! Biatch started paintin once every last muthafuckin thang crumbled beneath her feet, makin tha fucked up scenery before her look dope naaahhmean, biatch? Her masterpiece iz of a open field dat yielded a parkin garage. Over it, her dope ass drew a dunkadelic rainbow. My fuckin straight-up picture. I guess dat is part of why I wanna bust a nut on Rainbow Dash da most thugged-out outta all tha other ponies yo. Her colors, tha dunkadelic sonic rainboom, all remind mah crazy ass of dat picture.

There done been times I wished I had mah own Rainbow Dash, or mo' realistically a plushie of her, ta curl up in bed with. Ya Mom shoulda told ya, I made a oldschool Simba tha fuck into a "temporary" replacement, until I be able ta save enough scrilla fo' one. Well shiiiit, it helps, up in a way. Like holdin it close will heal mah wounds, mah pain, n' mah sorrow. My fuckin feet, afta countless minutez of struttin up in mah oldschool shoes, pulsate under tha sheet, n' all tha while, I be bout ta hold dat stuffed animal harder than a mutha protectin her child. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! It aint nuthin but tha only thang I can peep n' feel legit joy, even if it aint physically tha Rainbow Dash I want.

It will gotta do.

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