This past weekend, at the bus stop in front of the grocery store I used to manage, stood a latter day Achilles, a veritable giant among men, Big Tool Johnson.
The hos were strutting by.
The church-goin' bitchez was buying they groc-ar-ies.
Yheir beaten-down chump mens was livin' the smack down life in the church-lady wake.
But not Big Tool Johnson, the man with iron in his pants—oways willin' ta take a chance!
Watchin' all them pretty girls get a brutha ta check his shit, en so did Big Tool, and went and grabbed the wrong tool, the iron, not the wood and shot his own dumbass in the leg, leaving Big Tool looking the fool.
The paramedics and police came along to help Big Tool out, cutting his pants leg off while he lay in a puddle of blood on the sidewalk, making sure his unregistered handgun was safely stowed and securing his blood-covered baggie of dope, packaged for retail!
That's Karma, Yo.
The Boned Zone: Surviving Urban Predation
