was on a mission to smoke some hard...put on my sunday best and asked my mom if she could drive me to my math tutor in Newark. Stupidly, she agreed. We had to drive around the hood for a while, and I told my mom to pull over so I could ask this guy who looked like rick ross for directions. I walked up to him swaggering like I had a piece on my side, and said "yo u got that fire? sup with a qg? how bout that 3.5, I kno u see it." He said "let me tell u why they call me five drug man" but all he had was soft. I ended up buying a ball off him and asked him to turn me on to somebody who can bake cookies and all he said was "if a ****** want it hard, cook it like i'm popping dough!" My mom was starting to wise up to what was happening, so I said "Mom, don't make me brandish my toolie, I will pistol whip u, dip u, and flip u, I go hard in the paint." Take it from me, parents just don't understand, but this was some good dope I had scored. They don't always think strangers in the hood do it like it is, but this guy did, he do, he do. Well my whip game wasn't really up to par, so I just blew lines and smoked "primo" blunts, and the ball lasted the better part of a week, all while listening to master p's Ghetto D song on repeat, acting like I was some kind suburnanite king pin!
