June knows what time it is. Unfortunately, judging by his play counts, you probably don't. But that's OK ... for now. Analyze the economics of ill monosyllabic Noyd-like phonics. "I'll be back in a glimpse. One thing about my faction is this: We aint satisfied until the target is hit on a concrete stiff. Only the shell of his character exists." "Back then they used to stone men, kill next of kin. Soft like Barbie and Kim, nah that aint him, just a cheap blend." "J, you smoke too much. Shit, I aint smoking enough. Turn to Channel 12 to see another one bites the dust." "Head steeped in the greenery. The scenery's the front yard and the canopy. Can this be? Recorded as a mystery. Misery. Male tendencies. 'Stop hitting me,' she yelled." "Inside the crackhouse cooking up base, distraught by the look on her face. I'd do whatever it takes..." [If you don't recognize that sample flip, get off my blog.] "In the end it all hurts. Is the pain worth getting covered makeup on my shirt?" "Hennessy chased the coke. Needle laced with dope-a-rope. Nod to this rhyme I wrote reaching for enjoyment. Lack of unemployment got bullets deploying. Block is hot til the beast destroyed it."