So We Got Evicted, Right?

Lil' Creole Pimp Filed Under: Tags: , , , ,

Before you start to run your mouth and assume, making you and yours look dumb, it wasn't my fault. Me and my momma and LudaWeezyWhiteMan or whoever she bringing "home" tonight, got kicked out of our place. They just kicked us out. Didn't tell us shit! I'm lying... Hold up... Let me correct that. They did tell us not to go around starting no more parking lot fights and to stop throwing bricks through folks' windshields, but they ain't never gave us one good reason to not do it.

I ain't one to name names (Thou shall not snitch), so if I'ma tell you the story, I'ma keep the innocent anonymous. I don't put folks business in the street, unlike you.. Sandra Troll Face Rose.

It started a while ago... Few months back... This old, Agatha Christie, old ass lady who thought she knew every fucking thing before it even fucking happened, got into it with my momma. She told my momma to stop parking in her spot or she was gonna leak some EXCLUSIVE info 'bout every dick my momma didn't turn down to every tabloid depserate for a cover story.

We busted her shit. Plain and simple. 532 years old or not. We busted her shit.

Then a lil' while after that, my caretaker/mother/weed gardener, got into it with this neighbor we got. You ever seen them plants with the really, really sharp "leaves" that prick you when you touch them? Her hair looked like a bushel of those plants. She just had this itchy ass looking scalp, with this sharp, spritzed up hair. This razor head lady came and shook me because I pushed her child for stepping on my Ed Hardy sneakers. Oh motherfucking well... Tell that ho to man up and grow some. Get some dexterity or something. She got a lil' too loud with my momma and couldn't control her vocal volumes.

We busted her shit.

This one dude... Mayne, you ever see somebody and you don't even gotta hear 'em talk or laugh or even much breathe and just know they like to... Mayne, I ain't gon' even do homie like that. He know what the the business be.


So all this happened and happened and happened. And ain't nothing wrong. It's all good and then BAM! This off-kilt quick weave wearing "motorscooter" (property of CELESTINE A. FIERCE) told my momma, she wasn't raising me right. I ain't had no hometraining. I'm too young to thug it like that. I ain't gone live to see kindergarten. I'ma fuck around and get touched by Michael Jackson or R.Kelly if he get desperate enough. Just bad mouthing me... You know my momma don't play that shit. They still looking for that fast ass, corny ass, no good ass, country ass, drawstring ponytail wearing ass, fighting in the McDonald's porking lot over some houseshoes ass, Nordic loving ass motherfucker who been using my likeness to crack stupid lil' jokes on the Internet or some shit.


My momma was heated.

My momma, Kelly, Michelle, Nivea, Nicole Wray, LisaRaye, Ray-Ray (the girl), Ray-Ray (the boy that act like a girl) and my uncle Cuttino busted her bad.

She went to the hospital and everything. ICU. Bandages. Stitches and shit. She really got fucked up. Her family didn't even recognize her... She looked worse than she did before she got her shit busted and that's a hard feat to accomplish. We talking about a REALLY UGLY BITCH here.

Big Lip Ricky Ricky Rickay, our landlord, just changed our locks on us and shit. Barred the windows. Didn't even tell us shit. Just locked us out. Left a note on the door saying we ain't welcome to live there no more.

Our shit is still in there everything. Everything that made us who we are. I left the Wig Crypt employment application forms in there. My momma left the gud in there. Kizzy lost her career in there and was this close (||) to finding it. Now it's over.

We ain't got no where else to go.

Can you help us?

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