Smoking crack after the year 1999

  If you started smoking crack after the year 1999, you obviously didn't see what it did to people in the 80S and 90s. Honestly, you had a good ten to twenty years to see the effects of crack. Seeing someone transform into a dick sucking zombie was enough for me to say fuck crack.
  Granted crack has a bad name. If it weren't for Saturday morning cartoons and crack I wouldn't have remembered the eighties. Oh, how I loved watching Ghostbusters and loathed the crack head that pawned our tv!  Besides crack won't make you get naked and chew another man's face. You might suck a few miscellaneous dicks, though. But who hasn't sucked a dick to get ahead socially or economically?
  I grew up around crack. As we speak there is a crack head asking me if we met in Paris, France. When I walk down the street to buy some cigs, a lady, the same age as my mother, asks to blow me for a quarter. I'm thinking she should set her standards a little higher. Not too high because then it becomes unaffordable. Over night, a nice working class neighborhood can become crack head central. Once a person becomes a dick sucking zombie, crack is smoked on the curb in broad daylight, in front of an abandoned house. Hell, marijuana isn't smoked so casually! Here I am locking myself in the bathroom and stuffing a towel through every crevice to keep the ganja smell from escaping and these cock suckers are smoking crack without shame.

Sugar, Water, Artificial Flavors - Hood drink

  It seems like I would give crack some praised though. When my dad sold crack, it did help put food on the table. For a short time we did get to live in a nice neighborhood. Oh, I can't forget how it got my dad new Air Jordans, school clothes for me and my brothers, and us him a nintendo. How easily I forget my love affair with crack when I'm not being whined and dined with now and later candy and jungle juice! I remember being six years old when I had my first and only unintentional drug related infraction.
  I was standing in front of an apartment complex and I yelled 5-0. I'm sure the police were somewhere in the vicinity but none were in eyesight. Can you blame a six year old who is only mimicking what he is exposed to? Watching people scramble to hide the stash was such a delightful event! They were like cockroaches scurrying along as if somebody had turned on the lights. Lights being the po-pos. My dad worked for a ruthless Jamaican that had stabbed my uncle in the neck for smoking up the product. It's ok though because it was apart of the code (check Biggie's Ten Crack Commandments below for references). I can only imagine what he would do to my dad. When my dad asked if I had seen the police I simply reply no. He went silent and that was the last time I ever went to the trap. There went bring your child to work day.
  The Council will make a declaration. The next time you can't fully appreciate how someone can justify killing  their own community by means of crack. You can do 4 of the following things.
1. Get a costume like Batman and become a vigilante. This might get you killed but you have the what the fuck factor on your side which might give you time to escape.
2. Confront your neighborhood d-boy. This act will certainly get you killed almost immediately
3. Call the cops. HAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHA!
4. Have a young child run down the street screaming "The po-pos are coming" as if it were the American Revolution.