I wrote a rap.

It's called "STDs and MP3s"

Check it:


My name is Jake D
let me teach you 'bout anatomy,
my hairline's recedin' faster than my sanity,
don't pass me the mic cus I'll bring straight profanity!

I got a Michael Bolton t-shirt 'n I wear it like a towel,
I'll rip your heart straight the fuck out from your bowels,
Nah man, I ain't a violent cat,
I'm a smitten little kitten as a matter a fact!

(Chorus)
I got STDs and MP3s,
I listen to my music while applyin' my creams!
I got the same dream as Martin Luther King
and I'm a smooth-talkin crackhead like Charlie Sheen!

---

I'll meet the right girl . . .Eventually,
I'll drop to my knee and present her a ring,
be sure to treat her right.  I won't fuckin' tease 'a,
AND THAT BITCH'LL ACCEPT MY RING LIKE K-MART ACCEPTS VISA! (ARF! ARF! ((Dog barking)) )

We'll settle down in a house and have a bunch of kids,
when they make PB&J they'll be DAMN SURE to put back on the lids,
I'll clean their clothes in the washing machine,
even their underwear that be full of shit-skids!

I got STDs and MP3s,
I listen to my music while applyin' my creams!
I think about sexin' and I pull on my thing,
Is the idea of self-pleasure so obscene?


Yeah...Yeah, muh fuckuh. POW POW! That was my gun...The gun I kill people with.


...I ain't even got a license for it... Shiiiiit.

What is the deal with women? All they do is nag about shit that hardly deals with me. I mean, where in the Bible does it state that I have to pay for my kids whom I never see.

What if I seriously went off on that tangent?

My summer is a bundle of procrastination already, I've gotten nothing done that I've wanted to finish early.

Sample situation:
Me: I should really get some school stuff done. I haven't even filed my financial aid papers for Fall yet.
Random Friend: You should do that tomorrow, because me and (other random friend) are gonna go look at rocks.
Me: I'm there

I always figured I'd be a really good photographer. I envisioned these pieces in my head and thought to myself, I wish I had a camera right now. But it never works out too well. My mom, who is actually a photographer, always says "yeah...it's pretty good," and she throws me a psuedo smile. That sly woman. I can never follow her footsteps. Highheels are not for me.