New York City is notorious (no pun intended) for their weed delivery service. Dealers show up on bikes or cars and always have about 20 different kinds of bud on them. Of course each one has a new, different name that they came up with on their way over. It’s actually fun to hear how creative they can sometimes get. Afghan Cush, AK-47, Northern Lights, Green Crack, Grand Daddy Purp, OG Cush, etc. etc. Now I’m not sure how I would handle the situation if he showed up and said “yo I got that Tupac. No, really it’s fuckin’ Tupac. I got his ashes after they cremated him.” Um, call me crazy but I think I’ll pass on the Tupac this time Jerome. Not really into the whole ‘smoking people’ thing but even if I was, it wouldn’t be Tupac. Bring me some of that Biggie or if you really wanna make some money, get me some of that Snoop once he’s smoked himself dead. And don’t tell me Pac is running through your body my man. Everyone knows it takes a month for that shit to get out of your system.
You know what REALLY shocked me? Was the part where they said “we went down to the beach and did some shit he liked like weed, chicken wings, you know he loved orange soda…” No shit? I actually played a game where I stopped the clip right when he said “we did some shit he liked..” and tried to guess. What would you know I was 3 for 3. Kinda reminded me of the Dave Chappelle skit when he talks about black people being genetically predisposed to like chicken. And all along he thought he liked it just because it was delicious!
SubwayCreatures 