Rob's Lil' House on Front Street

 

This goes out strictly to Alex S. Johnson, libelous cunt extraordinaire--your day is coming, bitch. Saturn got a special place for that ass. Now, I myself can't do much, but I can at least jerk the Rob carpet out from underneath your feet-- that's what this post is all about.  

First--"Front Street" is what we call it when someone puts us on blast. Someone spits my business, that's putting me on Front Street. 

And.

This song goes with this. Check it before or after. It'll make more sense if you listen before. 

I'll just put myself on blast since it's all over the place anyway now. True friends know this stuff already, new friends may not. And here's me trying to edit folks when--

Or at least that's what you say.


What makes a guy like me think he can do that? Shit. I don't even know. I'm like Katt Williams--tryin shit and tryin shit, oh that didn't work, switch up--tryin shit...

(Holy shit rob likes hip hop?--SOME. I'm picky.)

Anyway.

I stopped doing gangster shit in 2019. Okay? Yep. I used to be about that life, I'm not anymore, and no I'm not saying with whom 'cos that shit don't matter now, okay? The shit ain't jokes or dramamamabalamala. It's real. I was what you call a 606. I'm not going to explain. Go ask a gangster, they'll tell you what it means. I did some time, small change. Lived on the street. And yeah it got ugly out there. What you think? It's the STREET! But it's over now. Got 2 1/2 years clean from dope. I haven't sold shit since life i at,  '19. I live at home. How the fuck I'mma sell dope out my folks crib? Huh? I smoke weed, but that's it. We grow it here. My folks are cool. They know my life. They live me helping them because they need a shitload of help.  They're fucking old. It goes that way. I'm not ashamed. My record is extensive. They don't like me at HR, dig? It's all good. Yeah I'm talking street 'cos you're doing street shit, punk!

Oh and Alex...while you're trying to ruin me, guess what?




I'm a musician too. And that's about to kick off. Yeah I said it before. That's because it's on the way. Everything else I said I'd kick off previous to this done been fuckin kicked off, so believe it. Music is coming. And yeah, I got chops. I can play keys, guitar, bass, I sing, I scream and Demon growl, I got lyrics all day, what? I ain't trippin' about shit. My producer--he who financeth my lofty musical endeavors-- he knows all this shit about me. And he's untouchable. 

In a Capitalist sense, he is. I suggest you don't try. It's way out of your purview.

So how the fuck you think to ruin me? Good luck with that. You might be able to make all the writers hate me...but I got more than a pen, baby!

Lol my bad. Let me jump away from talking to dickwad (oh, he'll read this FOR SURE). I hope everyone's cool with this stuff. If not I can't help you, but I figured you should know a la the Eminem rules. Think the end of 8 Mile. And I'm not trying to be disrespectful... it's just--if you don't like me on account of my past, I can't change that. I have respect for all of my friends. Just not for Alex. Not a shred. I respect the roach I stomp more. 

Carry on. Hope y'all are having a great weekend. And if this post makes you upset, I'm not the one whose chops you should bust.

Shit. I myself was having a nice day. 🖤y'all and again, my bad...

Hey. I least I didn't make a pantacle of you. 
Or an Abe Square
I wanted to. Bad. But I won't. 
I'm not that guy anymore.
Stop talking shit about me. 

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