"Nigga what?"!! What the f**k do you mean that nigga's not here??"!!"
The no-nonsense gangster known as Slapjack was, per usual, highly agitated. Not only had he left Metro City and traveled on a noisy boat filled with fools and retards to this absolutely ridiculous white-owned city, but now some scrawny cracka was trying to tell The Emissary of Black that he hadn't seen his boy Scorpion Wraitharan in nearly two muthaf***en days.
At seven feet tall, Scorpion was definitely a hard nigga to miss. Slap suspected that this crafty cracka was probably trying to lead him astray because he was black...and he definitely thought about popping several caps in his weak, lying a*s right here. BUT not knowing where The Don Mega was and being a stranger in a foreign place, Slap knew that the punk a*s white establishment would certainly try to lock him up for being a Black NO-SELLOUT killer. F**k those prejudice bitches!
"F**k all that. I'll deal with yo' punk a*s later." Slapjack agitatedly muttered as he stalked out into the busy street. So, this Vander'Wall Inn was a fat f***en zero. Where in the hell did Scorp go running off too"
He knew for sure that those punk a*s, man-hating, manipulative, goody-goody, pain in a nigga's a*s Scathachians were responsible somehow for the Big Man's disappearance. He never trusted them. NEVER.
Those muscleheaded ho's runnin' around calling themselves "Sisters", yet there was not a black, Nubian princess in their midst. Fake a*s cracka bitches. He had no love for these "super hyped" law enforcers. And, truth be told, he was still eternally pissed off at Scorp for getting tightly involved with one of them. Tapping their little a*ses was one thing, but inking it with all the love drama was downright trite. The more Lane dwelt on it, the more he wanted to smack Scorp in his big a*s head and drag him back to MC.
Well, that s**t aside for now, it was time to find his missing nWo crew member. Scorpion clearly wrote to him that their boy Dirty Sanchez was totally running s**t on a big block in an illicit part of the city called "The West End?. Dirty operated out of a club called Blue, and Scorp had already made contact with him according to his earlier letters. Okay, so let's make this s**t easy! The West End would be the hardcore thug's next stop.
It was settled then. At a club named The Blue, Tha BLACK would get some muthaf***en answers.
The no-nonsense gangster known as Slapjack was, per usual, highly agitated. Not only had he left Metro City and traveled on a noisy boat filled with fools and retards to this absolutely ridiculous white-owned city, but now some scrawny cracka was trying to tell The Emissary of Black that he hadn't seen his boy Scorpion Wraitharan in nearly two muthaf***en days.
At seven feet tall, Scorpion was definitely a hard nigga to miss. Slap suspected that this crafty cracka was probably trying to lead him astray because he was black...and he definitely thought about popping several caps in his weak, lying a*s right here. BUT not knowing where The Don Mega was and being a stranger in a foreign place, Slap knew that the punk a*s white establishment would certainly try to lock him up for being a Black NO-SELLOUT killer. F**k those prejudice bitches!
"F**k all that. I'll deal with yo' punk a*s later." Slapjack agitatedly muttered as he stalked out into the busy street. So, this Vander'Wall Inn was a fat f***en zero. Where in the hell did Scorp go running off too"
He knew for sure that those punk a*s, man-hating, manipulative, goody-goody, pain in a nigga's a*s Scathachians were responsible somehow for the Big Man's disappearance. He never trusted them. NEVER.
Those muscleheaded ho's runnin' around calling themselves "Sisters", yet there was not a black, Nubian princess in their midst. Fake a*s cracka bitches. He had no love for these "super hyped" law enforcers. And, truth be told, he was still eternally pissed off at Scorp for getting tightly involved with one of them. Tapping their little a*ses was one thing, but inking it with all the love drama was downright trite. The more Lane dwelt on it, the more he wanted to smack Scorp in his big a*s head and drag him back to MC.
Well, that s**t aside for now, it was time to find his missing nWo crew member. Scorpion clearly wrote to him that their boy Dirty Sanchez was totally running s**t on a big block in an illicit part of the city called "The West End?. Dirty operated out of a club called Blue, and Scorp had already made contact with him according to his earlier letters. Okay, so let's make this s**t easy! The West End would be the hardcore thug's next stop.
It was settled then. At a club named The Blue, Tha BLACK would get some muthaf***en answers.