Post by TFP on Oct 21, 2008 17:20:40 GMT -4
It's a dark room, but then there are footsteps heard in the distance. A spotlight shines down on a microphone stand, all fancied up and looking sleak in stainless steel. The light causes a reflection, shining into the room, bouncing off the walls and back to nowhere in particular. A man steps into the spotlight focus, looking up, revealing to be Davidson. He grins, nodding his head.
Davidson: "I betcha you're expecting a half dozen walls of text below, aren't you?"
He bobs his head.
Davidson: "Huh?"
Eyebrow raise.
Davidson: "Huh?"
Mouth gapes open.
Davidson: "Huh?"
Arms extend out.
Davidson: "Huh?"
He slips on a pair of shades.
Davidson: "Huh?"
Now a NY Yankee hat is put on. He doesn't know a damn thing about them.
Davidson: "Huh?"
He puts on a Patriots Jersey. He doesn't know a damn thing about them, either.
Davidson: "Huh?"
He folds his arms.
Davidson: "Supastah Bro, gimme a beat!"
Some black guy, obviously impostering recently retired Superstar Joe, jumps from the side and starts to create a cool tune using a turntable. Davidson bobs his head, arms folded. Once the beat kicks in with some basslines and drums from some supporting artists that are revealed in a spotlight that come down, the turntable starts going and some nice sounds are coming up. Now time for the freestyling to begin.
Davidson: "Seifer, champion of Attitude,
expressed loudly that he wants to rape some dude,
claims it's no homo, only strictly business,
he's gonna get a big-ass gift, just like the morning of Christmas,
but it's nothing good, I'm tellin' you right now,
it's like a jack in the box, but it opens and then goes pow,
flat on your back, son, you've just got sacked,
cover your face, now, 'cause I gotta chair... SMACK!"
A chair is swung by Supastah Bro, slamming it on the ground with the "SMACK" effect. The drummer also does a "SMACK" effect, too.
Davidson: "Totally ripping your style, and smoking a ciggy,
I'm hyping myself up, gonna kill you like Tupac and Biggie,
you're a white guy, but feel that you got rights to say nigga,
if you're as black as you sound, then I'm chocolate and sugar,
to me it's no big motherfuckin' deal if you don't wanna be white,
because when I win your title, you'll be ghostly pale outta freight,
say the same about me, but I got a reason, son, I'm a ginger,
can't stay out in the sun too long, I'll burn and just be a little bit dimmer!"
The lights tone down a bit.
Davidson: "Looks to me that you wanna die, boy,
look in my hands, it's a gun, and not some plastic toy,
they call me the Silver Bullet, I kill upon impact,
I hope you got last words, you'll die, that's a fact,
luckily for you, you'll join those who died in the past two days,
you might call them brothers of yours, Bernie Mac and Isaac Hayes,
what I'm saying is, bro, you're gonna fucking die,
no more weed for you, you're gonna be forever high,
but since you resort to life of thugging and bugging, I don't know,
to avoid some further though, beat box, Supastah Bro!"
Supastah Bro goes crazy with beat boxing.
Supastah Bro: "Buh-Tsh, Buh-Tsh, Buh-Tsh, Tsh-Tsh-Tsh, Buh-Tsh, Buh-Tsh, Buh-Tsh, Buh-Buh-Buh!"
Impressed, Davidson claps.
Davidson: "That's fuckin' bad-ass!"
Davidson: "I listen to U2 because I love Beautiful Day,
you probably laugh and giggle but I swear, man, I'm not gay,
I haven't been on a date in about a year, but no big deal,
I still get some booty now and then, and b'lee it's real,
come outta my room smelling like a seafood restaurant,
and leave her all tired, her pussy be smaller than this damn font,
I play guitar solos all over her ass, she relaxes, like flies on window glass,
throw vasoline on them both, sticky things up, especially the ass,
she's only eighteen, you may call me a pedophile, but you wrong,
how can it be so when she's willing to take off that thong,
now that you're impressed with my rhyming, la-dee-dah,
it's time for me to go home and take off her bra!"
Supastah stops the beat boxing, looking at Davidson.
Supastah Bro: "Brah?"
Davidson: "Bra."
Supastah Bro: "Brah? Supastah Brah?"
Davidson throws down the microphone stand.
Davidson: "Urgh! No!"
Supastah Bro: "Ah."
Davidson: "Oh."
Supastah Bro: "Ah!"
Davidson: "Oh!"
Supastah Bro: "FROM THE GHETTO MOTHA FUCKA, CAP YOUR ASS!!"
Davidson: "I'M THE SILVER BULLET!"
Supastah Bro: "WELL I GOT GOLDEN BULLETS 'CAUSE I BE BALLIN', BITCH!"
Davidson: "I'M GOING TO UNLEASH WHIP CREAM FURY IN YOUR AFRO WITH AN AERESOL CAN!"
Supastah Bro: "Bitch, you got a death wish?"
Davidson: "Yes... to beat Seifer and win his Attitude title."
Supastah Bro: "Then you betta pray, son."
Davidson heads out, Bro steals the drumset and every other instrument, then runs off. Agile guy, he is.
Davidson: "I betcha you're expecting a half dozen walls of text below, aren't you?"
He bobs his head.
Davidson: "Huh?"
Eyebrow raise.
Davidson: "Huh?"
Mouth gapes open.
Davidson: "Huh?"
Arms extend out.
Davidson: "Huh?"
He slips on a pair of shades.
Davidson: "Huh?"
Now a NY Yankee hat is put on. He doesn't know a damn thing about them.
Davidson: "Huh?"
He puts on a Patriots Jersey. He doesn't know a damn thing about them, either.
Davidson: "Huh?"
He folds his arms.
Davidson: "Supastah Bro, gimme a beat!"
Some black guy, obviously impostering recently retired Superstar Joe, jumps from the side and starts to create a cool tune using a turntable. Davidson bobs his head, arms folded. Once the beat kicks in with some basslines and drums from some supporting artists that are revealed in a spotlight that come down, the turntable starts going and some nice sounds are coming up. Now time for the freestyling to begin.
Davidson: "Seifer, champion of Attitude,
expressed loudly that he wants to rape some dude,
claims it's no homo, only strictly business,
he's gonna get a big-ass gift, just like the morning of Christmas,
but it's nothing good, I'm tellin' you right now,
it's like a jack in the box, but it opens and then goes pow,
flat on your back, son, you've just got sacked,
cover your face, now, 'cause I gotta chair... SMACK!"
A chair is swung by Supastah Bro, slamming it on the ground with the "SMACK" effect. The drummer also does a "SMACK" effect, too.
Davidson: "Totally ripping your style, and smoking a ciggy,
I'm hyping myself up, gonna kill you like Tupac and Biggie,
you're a white guy, but feel that you got rights to say nigga,
if you're as black as you sound, then I'm chocolate and sugar,
to me it's no big motherfuckin' deal if you don't wanna be white,
because when I win your title, you'll be ghostly pale outta freight,
say the same about me, but I got a reason, son, I'm a ginger,
can't stay out in the sun too long, I'll burn and just be a little bit dimmer!"
The lights tone down a bit.
Davidson: "Looks to me that you wanna die, boy,
look in my hands, it's a gun, and not some plastic toy,
they call me the Silver Bullet, I kill upon impact,
I hope you got last words, you'll die, that's a fact,
luckily for you, you'll join those who died in the past two days,
you might call them brothers of yours, Bernie Mac and Isaac Hayes,
what I'm saying is, bro, you're gonna fucking die,
no more weed for you, you're gonna be forever high,
but since you resort to life of thugging and bugging, I don't know,
to avoid some further though, beat box, Supastah Bro!"
Supastah Bro goes crazy with beat boxing.
Supastah Bro: "Buh-Tsh, Buh-Tsh, Buh-Tsh, Tsh-Tsh-Tsh, Buh-Tsh, Buh-Tsh, Buh-Tsh, Buh-Buh-Buh!"
Impressed, Davidson claps.
Davidson: "That's fuckin' bad-ass!"
Davidson: "I listen to U2 because I love Beautiful Day,
you probably laugh and giggle but I swear, man, I'm not gay,
I haven't been on a date in about a year, but no big deal,
I still get some booty now and then, and b'lee it's real,
come outta my room smelling like a seafood restaurant,
and leave her all tired, her pussy be smaller than this damn font,
I play guitar solos all over her ass, she relaxes, like flies on window glass,
throw vasoline on them both, sticky things up, especially the ass,
she's only eighteen, you may call me a pedophile, but you wrong,
how can it be so when she's willing to take off that thong,
now that you're impressed with my rhyming, la-dee-dah,
it's time for me to go home and take off her bra!"
Supastah stops the beat boxing, looking at Davidson.
Supastah Bro: "Brah?"
Davidson: "Bra."
Supastah Bro: "Brah? Supastah Brah?"
Davidson throws down the microphone stand.
Davidson: "Urgh! No!"
Supastah Bro: "Ah."
Davidson: "Oh."
Supastah Bro: "Ah!"
Davidson: "Oh!"
Supastah Bro: "FROM THE GHETTO MOTHA FUCKA, CAP YOUR ASS!!"
Davidson: "I'M THE SILVER BULLET!"
Supastah Bro: "WELL I GOT GOLDEN BULLETS 'CAUSE I BE BALLIN', BITCH!"
Davidson: "I'M GOING TO UNLEASH WHIP CREAM FURY IN YOUR AFRO WITH AN AERESOL CAN!"
Supastah Bro: "Bitch, you got a death wish?"
Davidson: "Yes... to beat Seifer and win his Attitude title."
Supastah Bro: "Then you betta pray, son."
Davidson heads out, Bro steals the drumset and every other instrument, then runs off. Agile guy, he is.