fast times at the racetrac gas station

i love going to the gas station. don't judge me.
i'ma petroleum dishing master. i can stop the pump on 19.99 if i want to.
they always have some hot tamales in the back for me, 'cause they RECOGNIZE ME NOW.
i'm like a celebrity.
an eccentric one who eats hot tamales at 9 am.
and every time i go to the one right by my house, on my way to school, there is a dude posted up tryna sell a cd.
now.
i am not in anyway shape of form tryna knock anybody's hustle.
iii need a hustle my own self, so i can't hate on anyone, broke as i am.
i'm jus'saying though.
you fulfilling the stereotype of err bum-ass nigga that has ever bummed(sorry, i'm really trying not to cuss but you know how that goes...).
how old are you?
28?
and this is your mixtape?
and you say you finna be signed by the end of this year?
how long you been rapping, playa?
oh, word? you gon' blow up big soon?
negro, por favor.
give it up, and turn your application in to a legit job please.
i'm not saying you won't blow up.
'cause then you probably will, and i'll be sitting here wit egg on my face, begging you for sum'n to eat.
it's just not that statistically likely.
after the age of 25 *fake statistics*, the likelihood of you getting a deal is slimmer than j.j. evans. (my diet is succeeding! -4 lbs. down, and...eleventy-billion to go!)
i'm not knocking selling the cds either. i am the proud owner of several passably good mixtapes.
however, i ain't pay for nar' one of them.
i get out of doing so thusly.
dude selling mixtapes--"ay ma, you wanna buy a cd? just $10 for four."
me (looking like butter wouldn't melt in my mouf)--"i'm sorry, i don't have $10."
dsm--"that's aight, sweetie. if you ever want one, i'm up here all the time."
me--"well, i do want one, and it does look really good...if you think you can trust me *smiles sweetly* do you think i can have it and get you your money the next time?"
dsm--"of course, baby girl. here, take it and tell your friends."
every time i see him, i still don't have his ten dollars.
(i really don't, though. my bad, mixtape man. i'ma get you back, one day. in maybe 2011.)
now. another thing.
kids growing up tryna emulate rappers.
i write cyphers sometimes. not as often as i used to since i'm "busy," but i think i'm fairly talented.
however.
i don't have any illusions that my rap career is going to take off.
for one thing, i feel ridiculous when i rap. my voice is not awe-inspiring. i sound insecure as all get out. it's just no bueno.
and while i think it's cool to rap, because it gets you kinda interested in the intricacies of language, nahmean? you might go out and buy a lil pocket sized rhyming dictionary, you try to be lyrical, make a little sense (maybe).
but the likelihood of you blowing up *more fake statistics* siiignificantly low.
even though somebody mighta told you you can be president someday, and now that we have a black president in office, little (black) kids feel like they can reach higher.
but not everybody gets to be president.
and you will probably not be a rap star.
again. not saying you won't. you could be the one in a million.
but while you doodling what your first cover will look like in chemistry, your tail better sit up and pay attention, just in case.
ish happens. life happens.
don't get caught, looking like a fool wit your pants on the ground.