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A Cold Rink

30th May, 2008. 1:32 am.

Hello I am Ray.
I keep my drugs under the ice tray.
So many cubes on my accessories, it's like I emptied the ice tray.
I'm in the fish market, checking out the iced trays.
Point at a nice salmon; and the butcher recognizes I'm Cat Street Ray,
so he puts the fish in my bag and I don't need to pay.

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17th January, 2008. 11:39 am.

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17th January, 2008. 11:01 am. Angels with Airplane Wings

inspired by Gal Prawlems...

They keep calling me out
The streets are loud
I'm similar to the sky
I puff those clouds

If you feel like leaving
you know you can go
but why don't you stay until tomorrow

Why you act all crazy?
I'm probably the richest man you know
Don't be ashamed of my status
Please don't go

If you feel like leaving
you know you can go
but why don't you stay until tomorrow

I never let Jeff hit you much
You were always cool in the ride
We're angels with airplane wings
Puffin clouds in the sky

If you feel like leaving
you know you can go
but why don't you stay until tomorrow

You know I grip more grain
You know I like your brain
We're angels with airplane wings
Building castles in the sky

Image hosted by Photobucket.com

Current mood: Sad.

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25th August, 2007. 11:43 am. Still Ray

I got mad niggaz with mad cheese on mad blocks
the world is angry nigga, and money talks
my weapons cough
I got a sick armory
wobbly body hoes askin me if i'm loaded to the brim, I tell em' 'probably'
because Cat Street can afford me.
I meet their parents and the language is "lordy, lordy"
"look at the platinum on his chest, look at the super sized feet on his car..."
"This boy is a super star."
In they bedroom- a closed mouth don't get fed, so sometimes I gotta force feed em.
flash a gun, slap em and point my finger at em, put a knee in em
Any way I've done it, I do it. I'm still the violent dance hall rapist
/murder enthusiast/that dude who hands tourists an addressed package, points a gun to they head and says "deliver this."
No matter how scared the red headed white boys get, big body black bitches sit near me and get wet.
The 900$ Bapestas on my feet has them interested.
The 1600$ bottle in my hand has them convinced.
Like Stalin did, I rule. Like Jewel's husband, I got Jewel.
loyal to the game like Big L, passionate like James Earl Jones, buisness ethics similar to Sean Combs
every weds night I'm at Jane and Finch; slinging my scones.
Thurs is Ultra with the rest of my Street niggaz
Friday I'm at the pit bull fights with Jeff
and on Saturday we be smoking whatevers left

habitual cannon duster, the man with no neck
"Cat Street Ray," the name that's under their breath.

Current mood: smart.

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22nd April, 2007. 7:19 pm.


Free Willy niggaz, dis ish ain't no fun, b. I know Will's son.

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22nd April, 2007. 5:34 pm. Mi Lyfe's a Naatral Hygh

Ain't shit change but the calendar and the time

same refigerator values; I pump that snow in the street
I create ice, cubes dangle from
my neck, my wrists, my belt buckle clip
I got kids calling me frosty the nig

I come through like inspector gadget
I keep my tools mostly hidden
The AK is a hobby, the glock is a habit
fans callin me Stallone because I'm so Driven.

I got rogers cable calling me, trying to get a piece of my digits
cell phone platinum plans, direct lines to Japan, rotary dialing cell phone old school tools so fly and comfortable

Now I'm sippin on something from way back when niggaz was in fields
Somehow, back then, shit just tasted more real
Now I'm choking on greenery
And I'm mostly liking the club's 15+ scenery

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1st April, 2007. 10:22 am.

Now can your mind picture
A thug nigga drinkin hard liquor.
This ghetto life has got me catchin up to god quicker.
Who would figure that all I need was a
Hair trigga Semi-Automatic Mack 11 just to scare niggas.
Pardon my thug poetry,
But suckers is born everyday and fear of man grow on trees.
Criminal ties for centuries.
A legend in my own rhymes,
So niggas whisper when they mention
Cat Street
We thug niggas and we came in packs.
Every one of us niggas strapped sippin on 'nac
In the back, my AR 15.
Thuggin till I die.
These streets got me cravin for a zine
My lyrics are blueprints to money makin.
Fat as that ass that honey shakin.

I must stay thuggin and shit.
They call it overthuggin and shit.
But I was just a youngen nigga gettin older and lovin this shit.
But what was I doin in this place?
To the fakes without a pistol in the first,
Facin termination in the worst.
But I figured to play the war,
To watch all these playa hatin niggas position,
For I could see em all.
Made it up out of there.
Lucky to be here.
Tell you, but it'll never be a repeat.
People I'm tryin to tell you.

Now picture the scenery.
I'm thugged out smokin greenary.
Considered a BG but I'm offering
This game something deeper.
My eyes only see these
That's why I'm definately bugged out.
Learned to know how.
Well to do now.
By 18, turned out.
And why I do thee.
To rob and smoke and ally my foes in the worst place.
Y'all shouldn't of fucked with us in the first place.
Y'all real OG's droppin game to the youngsters.
Y'all don't want no fun
Cuz y'all be the next in the long line of shitheads

I starts em off with this gansta raw story tale.
Stackin loot up in the coup that I protect with a Mack 12.
Slap my clip in the chamber.
Fool, your life's in danger.
No one will remain when I come through dumpin insane.
Call me A-1 Major Payne.
Ya slay and move and gain.
I be the nigga pullin the trigga and
Dumpin the hollow points in your brain.
Mo bigger balls that RuPaul.
this thug's life ain't a ball.
We bust that ass up against a wall.
As for men
We bucks em down on the way to the ground.
Ain't nuttin but the hog in me.
This stuff is real, dough.
Killin the Po's and keep mobbin, G.
with a sawed off.
Cuz they dirty as drawers, y'all.
And had them bitch niggas hauled off.

Mama had me lived and raised on shit that ain't ok.
Ain't nuttin on this earth will make a nigga like me stay.
I'm reminissin and catchin flashbacks when niggas
Ran up in my house and I was too young to try to blast back.
What happend then, no one would tell me since I was 3.
Heard they got to my peoples.
Now they livin somewhere free.
But fuck that,
You got whats mines and I want that.
Never drop my guard
Been on the squad
Since ways back.
And now I'm sittin,
Holdin in anger because my parents missin.
Thuggin and murderin.
Got some war stories for ya.

Now look at me.
Straight immortal.
Never gave a fuck cuz I was nobody's daughter.
Thug poet from my tits to my clips.
Don't try to figure cuz the murderous tendencies of my mind
Can't be controled, nigga.
So who's the bigger?
Who's the quickest killer?
Would ya try to trip with my finger on the 9 milla.
When I got cha, ok nine fourths
Prayin to god as your life goes back and forth.

Cat Street Ray, lookers.
Heh, heh. Ya playas, too.
Can you feel me?
Just say never
Say Cat Street
My niggas love that shit.
Crazy Jim in this mother fucker.
Heh, heh. Yeah nigga. Shout outs to my niggas Jeff and George.
ya bald head nut.
You know what time it is.

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30th March, 2007. 7:27 pm. That Dealer Cat

I got that shit you look for in arabian pharmacys
I got that loosely placed stash, kids call em flintrocks, I call them hideaways
I pump that noozy
gas station guns premieum- i'm so choosey

Wiggling that thing ain't no issue dawg
so step back and holler at me when you wanna purchase that bog
I'm handling those packed sacks you crave
the way I pull stunts, bitches call me super dave

A hair cut ain't no problem chap
I let the barber sniff that stash
the call me mall bully
cause I push where people go
don't act silly nigga
I know you don't know.

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7th March, 2007. 2:31 pm.

Man, what's up with this nigga shit?
I'm seein slap happy playaz not giving a shit.
Like I ain't about to bust them fruity loops
But them be the same niggaz that duck and swivel when my tug boat tooty toots

I'm keyboard friendly
I bust that noopy
I'm Leonard Nemoy
with thugged out groupies

I'm wozely
Bitches choose me when they choosey
Now I gotta go get my mescaline
cause a nigga be snoozy

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5th February, 2007. 7:07 pm. Club Bangaz

Yup, We want raw girls
Yup, We want raw girls
Dis what me and my nigghaz be yelling when we burst into da club
If some scholarly nigghaz start spellin, we be all like "whatz up?"
Young, Fly, Flashy, You KNOW how my ca$h be.
I got jerseys and throw bax, and Bapesta's unmatched
I got a dent in my chest and I wear tinted perscriptions
I got slut radar, call it devil's intuition.

Yup, we want RAW girls
Yup, we want RAW girls

Yup, We want raw girls
Yup, We want raw girls
My niggaz be horny and they be feelin they sacks
I got a double d slut with her hand in my slacks.
We got Tony on the wall and Jeff on the couch
Waiting for vitamin D to make they girls slouch
When dat happens, they gon' take em out back.
I'ma take my girl to da floor, keepin my hand on her rack.

Yup, we want RAW girls
Yup, we want RAW girls

Yup, We want raw girls
Yup, We want raw girls
We hit da dance floor and we do the mashed potatos
By the end of da song I got my tongue in her naval
By this time, I already got an erection
I tell Mrs. Nipples to take my hand and get ready for sexin
We go out back to meet Tony and Jeff, what's next? raw sex
We did it once, it was nice, we did it twice. What? I told you, raw sex.

Yup, we want RAW girls
Yup, we want RAW girls

Current mood: Lookin fo pus.

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