Sometimes, I like to write wordier versions of rap songs. I’ve published a few on Facebook, and figured Tumblr might like to see them as well.
This one is “BMF,” by Rick Ross.
Allow me to clear my laryngeal passages.
With that achieved, let us begin.
Gentlemen, I have encountered a fairly severe confusion of identities. It appears that at times i believe myself to be Big Meech, as well as Larry Hoover. I compare myself to the individuals in particular because we have in common a certain enthusiasm for distributing illegal substances, committing violent crimes, and above all obtaining nefariously gained funds. We have been actively involved in the latter for an extended period of time.
(Mr William Roberts)
My Rolls-Royce sedan is of a tenebrous hue, both inside and out. It is my means of conveyance to all manner of nightclubs, at which i purchase a great deal of Champagne and discuss my criminal exploits. These activities are common enough for me that an alternative moniker for me has been devised, namely “Rick Rozay.” I daresay that I have been involved in the drug trade for long enough that it has surreptitiously made intravenous inroads on my person. My authenticity is not to be challenged, especially by somebody who lacks credibility himself. I would like to provide an interesting anecdote, if I may. A gentleman fitting the previous description was naive enough to claim that he was the exclusive paramour of a certain lady, while all the while I had been having sexual intercourse with her. When I enter any room, I am accompanied by gentlemen with felonious backgrounds, all of whom can vouch for the purity of my personal reserve of cocaine, which justifies its added cost.
My enemies envy my abundant jewels and considerable wealth. I have been known to spend undeclared money in a manner visible to the federal government, risking my security in order to flaunt my resources. If you are inclined to doubt my credibility or my expenditures, I urge you to consider my wristwatch. It is an Audemars-Piguet, and came to me at no small cost, I assure you. Again, I am both wealthy and formidable in combat, and my wealth is due to my proficiency in the illicit sectors of my area’s economy. This coposition is dedicated to my compatriots and co-conspirators, whether they be of affluent or impoverished stock. Those who convey information to law enforment are to be reviled, and to discourage this behavior I have paid a sizeable sum to have an individual guilty of such skulduggery slain.
(Mr David Styles)
If a gentleman of any description chooses to defy me, I shall promptly shoot him thirty-six times, to pay tribute to the similar number of ounces in a kilogram. I enjoy smoking marijuana, and under its influence performing dangerous stunts in my customized Japanese all-terrain vehicle. An added benefit of this pastime is the profuse opportunity to dispense projectiles from my submachine gun towards bystanders. My associates and I are accomplished marksmen, and wield powerful revolvers as well as the aforementioned automatic weapon. In addition to this already sizeable arsenal, we possess high-capacity magazines for our guns, enabling us to open fire for extended periods of time, and thus adding to our potential impact on our enemies’ numbers. I have demonstrated notable proficiency in the sale of illegal substances, and as such have gained enough capital that if I desire, I may recline upon its surface as if it were furniture.