Posted January 14, 200718 yr Why so down in the dumps, vato? Man, you don't look so good. What happened, artillery-shell blow half your face off? What's that? You're hooked on methamphetamine? You're kidding, right? Isn't that what they used to give depressed house-pets? Well, enjoy it while you can, kid, because the novelty won't last. I promise you right now that soon enough, that little glass pipe of yours will be collecting dust in a cockroach-infested corner as you sit hunched over that traffic-sign-on-cinderblocks you use for a table, reacquainting yourself with your old powdery amigo blanco. I remember when you were all jazzed for angel dust. Next was the crack version of me, followed by—what was that shit—OxyContin? ¡Ay, dios mio! But the good times never last: You always need more, more, more just to get the same high, and soon you're hanging out at highway weigh-stations, blowing 300-pound truckers for two bucks. Mi querido, you could've had that with me all along. Look, when fabulous, kick-ass rock-star me is around, everything else is redundant. Unless you're into LSD or mushrooms, in which case I say, go fuck a sunset, hippie. I'm my own gateway drug, baby! And isn't crystal meth basically just chemicals, man? Don't you have to set up a bunch of flasks and beakers and Bunsen burners in your kitchen and boil down a ton of stuff to get maybe half-an-ounce of the shit? Whatever. Sounds boring. Of course, I'm all coca leaves, 100 percent natural, made with love in the jungles of Colombia. Jesus fucking Christ, I'm so much better I could go on for pages and pages and pages and pages and pages and pages and pages and pages and pages. Three great things about me: Uno, you can snort big fat lines of me wherever there's a flat surface, from mom's vanity mirror to the disco bathroom. Dos, it's always been my personal guarantee that you will be the sharpest, funniest, hottest, fiercest, whip-fucking-smartest motherfucker in the place. Tres, no open sores. Might have some nose-cartilage issues, but nothing anyone can actually see. Know what the best thing to do when you're on me is? Rent a penthouse suite, open the window, stand out on the ledge, and bay at the moon. With meth, you're too busy counting the teeth on the rug to see the big picture. Sure, you have your euphoric moments, but do you ever feel like a quicksilver Jesus who knows all, sees all, and is all? It's better than anything. It's better than the end of Rocky. You need meth to get off? That is just sad. Hello!—why do you think they call me "blow"? Actually, I'm not sure why I'm called blow. This might sound weird coming from me, but it just ain't right to use drugs for sexual benefit. Should you feel like you can fall 20 feet and not get hurt, or plunge your hand into a flame and not feel it, or put your fist through a glass coffee-table and not notice all the bleeding? Absolutely. But to smoke or snort something just to feel sensations you should feel naturally? That's malas noticias in my book. I'm the biggest cash crop in three countries. Who can say that about crystal meth? Bakersfield, California? I am an international powerhouse: For every ounce of me you've snorted, at least two people have died. I'm talking deadly airlifts out of the jungle, thrilling speedboat shootouts, spectacular daylight assassinations of politicians, executions of informants, electrodes on villagers' genitals—name it, it's there. And I'm not even counting the me-fueled spree killings. Know what? Fuck you. I'm no sloppy seconds. You know who's doing me right now, as we speak? Charlie fucking Sheen. I don't need you. I'm a star. So suck it, you little corn-fed scarecrow. Go back to slopping pigs and huffing nail-polish remover, you raggedy-ass hick. Okay, okay, I'm sorry. I take that back. I miss you, baby. We were great together. I just want it to be the way it was. Up all night, talking about whatever's on your mind. Dancing till the sun comes up. Just you and me and several of your friends. Hey, it's all good. No worries. Because I know you'll be back. You've never been able to resist me. I can wait as long as it takes because I'm forever, amigo. If you need me, I'll be in the restroom of a Philadelphia law firm, up a paralegal's nose. Cocaine is a longtime stimulant synthesized from the leaves of the coca plant. It maintains residences in Miami and Bogota.
January 14, 200718 yr My name is Cocaine - call me Coke for short. I entered this country without a passport. Ever since then I've made lots of scum rich. Some have been murdered and found in a ditch. I'm more valued than diamonds, more treasured than gold. Use me just once and you too will be sold. I'll make a schoolboy forget his books. I'll make a beauty queen forget her looks. I'll take renowned speaker and make a bore. I'll take a mother and make here a whore. I'll make a schoolteacher forget how to teach. I'll make a preacher not want to preach. I'll take all your rent money and you'll get evicted. I'll murder your babies or they'll be born addicted. I'll make you rob and steal and kill. When you're under my power you have no will. Remember my friend my name is " Big C ". If you try me just one time you may never be free. I've destroyed actors, politicians and many a hero. I've decreased bank accounts from millions to zero. I make shooting and stabbing a common affair. Once I take charge you won't have a prayer. Now that you know me what will you do ? You'll have to decide, It's all up to you. The day you agree to sit in my saddle. The decision is one that no one can straddle. Listen to me, and please listen well. When you ride with cocaine you are headed for hell !!! http://cocaine.org/cocaineline.jpg too bad you cost so much asshole
January 14, 200718 yr its more like 60 - 80 where im from, and yeah that is expensive for one fuckin gram. btw stfu 40 no one cares how rich your parents are
January 16, 200718 yr i dont like my teeth feeling like theyre gonna fall out and it tastes like shit, a least when you smoke it kokayne FTW
January 16, 200718 yr d0wn;431228']its more like 60 - 80 where im from' date=' and yeah that is expensive for one fuckin gram. btw stfu 40 no one cares how rich your parents are[/quote'] raged btw i pay for my own cocaine cause i have a job, gg :o
January 16, 200718 yr D0MINATI0N;431070']Why so down in the dumps, vato? Man, you don't look so good. What happened, artillery-shell blow half your face off? What's that? You're hooked on methamphetamine? You're kidding, right? Isn't that what they used to give depressed house-pets? Well, enjoy it while you can, kid, because the novelty won't last. I promise you right now that soon enough, that little glass pipe of yours will be collecting dust in a cockroach-infested corner as you sit hunched over that traffic-sign-on-cinderblocks you use for a table, reacquainting yourself with your old powdery amigo blanco. I remember when you were all jazzed for angel dust. Next was the crack version of me, followed by—what was that shit—OxyContin? ¡Ay, dios mio! But the good times never last: You always need more, more, more just to get the same high, and soon you're hanging out at highway weigh-stations, blowing 300-pound truckers for two bucks. Mi querido, you could've had that with me all along. Look, when fabulous, kick-ass rock-star me is around, everything else is redundant. Unless you're into LSD or mushrooms, in which case I say, go fuck a sunset, hippie. I'm my own gateway drug, baby! And isn't crystal meth basically just chemicals, man? Don't you have to set up a bunch of flasks and beakers and Bunsen burners in your kitchen and boil down a ton of stuff to get maybe half-an-ounce of the shit? Whatever. Sounds boring. Of course, I'm all coca leaves, 100 percent natural, made with love in the jungles of Colombia. Jesus fucking Christ, I'm so much better I could go on for pages and pages and pages and pages and pages and pages and pages and pages and pages. Three great things about me: Uno, you can snort big fat lines of me wherever there's a flat surface, from mom's vanity mirror to the disco bathroom. Dos, it's always been my personal guarantee that you will be the sharpest, funniest, hottest, fiercest, whip-fucking-smartest motherfucker in the place. Tres, no open sores. Might have some nose-cartilage issues, but nothing anyone can actually see. Know what the best thing to do when you're on me is? Rent a penthouse suite, open the window, stand out on the ledge, and bay at the moon. With meth, you're too busy counting the teeth on the rug to see the big picture. Sure, you have your euphoric moments, but do you ever feel like a quicksilver Jesus who knows all, sees all, and is all? It's better than anything. It's better than the end of Rocky. You need meth to get off? That is just sad. Hello!—why do you think they call me "blow"? Actually, I'm not sure why I'm called blow. This might sound weird coming from me, but it just ain't right to use drugs for sexual benefit. Should you feel like you can fall 20 feet and not get hurt, or plunge your hand into a flame and not feel it, or put your fist through a glass coffee-table and not notice all the bleeding? Absolutely. But to smoke or snort something just to feel sensations you should feel naturally? That's malas noticias in my book. I'm the biggest cash crop in three countries. Who can say that about crystal meth? Bakersfield, California? I am an international powerhouse: For every ounce of me you've snorted, at least two people have died. I'm talking deadly airlifts out of the jungle, thrilling speedboat shootouts, spectacular daylight assassinations of politicians, executions of informants, electrodes on villagers' genitals—name it, it's there. And I'm not even counting the me-fueled spree killings. Know what? Fuck you. I'm no sloppy seconds. You know who's doing me right now, as we speak? Charlie fucking Sheen. I don't need you. I'm a star. So suck it, you little corn-fed scarecrow. Go back to slopping pigs and huffing nail-polish remover, you raggedy-ass hick. Okay, okay, I'm sorry. I take that back. I miss you, baby. We were great together. I just want it to be the way it was. Up all night, talking about whatever's on your mind. Dancing till the sun comes up. Just you and me and several of your friends. Hey, it's all good. No worries. Because I know you'll be back. You've never been able to resist me. I can wait as long as it takes because I'm forever, amigo. If you need me, I'll be in the restroom of a Philadelphia law firm, up a paralegal's nose. Cocaine is a longtime stimulant synthesized from the leaves of the coca plant. It maintains residences in Miami and Bogota. To long, didnt read. Summarize please?
January 17, 200718 yr I'm willin to fuckin bet that 40 doesn't buy coke, lmao From what i heard 40 is a spoiled rich kid that lives off his parents... Just like that girl in the "My daddy bought me the wrong color car" thread. I could be wrong though.
January 17, 200718 yr From what i heard 40 is a spoiled rich kid that lives off his parents... Just like that girl in the "My daddy bought me the wrong color car" thread. I could be wrong though. LOL, wrong. spoiled rich? AHAHAHA, thats actually amusing....if I was spoiled rich dont you think my gran would of bought me a brand new gaming pc ? idiot...ROFL but yeh I spend abit money yeh, but I do work and pay for most of my own stuff D: I'm willin to fuckin bet that 40 doesn't buy coke, lmao lol at how much you think you know about my real life good game ***got
January 17, 200718 yr 40;432455']LOL' date=' wrong. spoiled rich? AHAHAHA, thats actually amusing....if I was spoiled rich dont you think my gran would of bought me a brand new gaming pc ? idiot...ROFL but yeh I spend abit money yeh, but I do work and pay for most of my own stuff D:[/quote'] OH YEAH!?!?! WELL YOU'RE A JEW!!!
