Whether I slammed it or smoked the glass dick, I knew I had sold my soul for something real sick. At first I didn’t notice but I had started to change, I had become very scary and someone real strange. People offered me food seeing my condition ‘cuz they seen me sucked up from malnutrition, but once again I passed the food on the table, to go slam another fix, for now I was able to go tweaking around town thinkin’ I was so cool, “what the fuck” I thought, I was nobody’s fool.
But one by one they started to leave me alone, they were seeing the monster I had grown. First it was my friends then my kids then my ex-wife, I was convinced I didn’t need them, I was fucking up my life. Then one night I was spun, and what did I see? They were all a part of a BIG conspiracy. So I shook the thought and slammed another blast, thinking, “Fuck, how long can this last?” Shit in my life was now all too real, so I got a brainstorm and though I should deal. At first I was treated like I was lame, but before I knew it I was hip to the game. Now all my time was spent making the rounds, first quarters and grams then ounces and pounds.
And now the last chapter in this sick book, my boi took me under his wing and showed me how to cook … I knew in my heart there was bound to be trouble as I tended the flask, watching it bubble. Now I was a target for the Feds and the DEA, knowing this all along I continued to play. Then one night homeboi came to score, when 20 punk cops come kickin’ down my door!!! “What the fuck,” I thought, this doesn’t make sense!” Shit in my life was now fucking INTENSE!!! They slammed me to the floor, put their boots on my chest and said, “Hello stupid, you’re under arrest!”
I knew I was through when I got into court and found 15 informants on the police report. While walking the yard at Soledad I had time to reflect on how my life got so fucked up and wrecked, then it flashed in my mind like a big neon sign, “Hey good White Brother, let’s slam another dime.”
Now you all know my world filled with strife, you’ve been around my block and lived in “my life.” That’s what that DEATHAMPHETAMINE did for Little Mikee L. from Porterville, California.
STOP THE MADNESS!!!
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