Today’s installment of Gangsta-Ass Monday focuses on education and shit. This instructional video will show you how to become an instructional hustler. Bitches will listen to you. Bitches will follow your directions. It’s like Simon Says, but for bitches.
[Author’s Note: Bitches and cars.]
Other studies included: Gin, Juice, and French-Braiding.
Lil’ Odin is my four-year-old son’s third-best nickname, so I can only assume he somehow managed to get a record deal behind my back. Probably sold his soul to Jesus, just to make a name for himself. Jesus is going to be way pissed when He finds out that this soul is actually my soul…and it’s been in the clearance bin right outside Valhalla for at least six years now. Nobody wants to buy it because it’s cursed with rap stardom. Obviously.
Let Gangsta-Ass Mondaye serve as a reminder to all y’all busters, I still claim D-P-G until the day I D-I-E.
Gangsta-Ass Monday is back with the illness, go on and get to quenchin’ that hoodrat thirst for Tanqueray in your purple drank.
Stop what you’re doing and check out my tote bag, for this motherfucker is singing to that ass in the sweet key of G-funk. Before you start thinking I fell off, please note that I wouldn’t forget about Wigger Wednesday any sooner than I would forget about Dre. As your favorite Internet wigger, follow me as I do you like you want to be done.
Increased my Wu-Tang loot by 33% this week. Here is but one of my spoils. For only $6.98, I now have the comfort of knowing that if I ever need to protect my neck against those who would stick me for my light switches, this shirt’s got my front with the Shaolin shadowboxing. (RIP, ODB — I hope ghetto Valhalla is as dope as it looks in my daydreams.)
