Cherry Tootsie-Pop High, Oh Yeah.
A Rap Song For FMC
So I’s a-layin’ here pyootin’ wid my cat on my lap
Just chillin’ some, doin’ that fine Tootsie-pop rap
Cherry’s my flave, bro’, you better be’s knowin’ it
Sucking on the cherry bit, the tootsie bit, all gnawin’ it.
This new Grade-A Columbian sugar’s stronger, faster
Than granulated, powdered, cane, cube-cut or castor,
But the real beauty of the deal is jazzin’ them fool cops
Cos it’s smuggled in the chocolate bit of Cherry Tootsie-Pops!
I shot me a cop today, man, shot him up nasty
Cos he wouldn’t stop staring at my tootsie-pop ass, he
Took it in the teeth and the toe and in a nipple
His ‘nads are gone – I blew away his full damn triple.
I saw a young sistah suckin’ good on a lolly
Said “Wassup wid dat, girl? Y’all gone off yo dang trolley?
Don’t you know the Tootsie-Pop is where it’s at?
You never get no satisfaction lickin’ on that!
“Come wid me, wuhman, I’ll fix you up sweet
We’ll score some Tootsie-Pops, feel that Tootsie-Pop beat.
I got me some good contacts, (for ma eyes and my bizz-i-ness)
I know a mo-fo selling bliss and wild cherry dizziness.”
If you gonna make it in this f***ed-up city,
You gotta learn to show no fear, remorse; no pity.
Ojai, see, it’s mean and people need a little somethin’
To take the edge off, dull the pain, and keep dey ass ‘n’ tum thin
My mamma was a Snickers whore, my daddy pimped for Hershey’s
I only knew hurtin’ as a child o’ sugar-junkies:
Para-pher-nay-lee-yuh: dem wrappers sordid, sticky;
The shame of seeing ma mamma with a triple-chocolate hickey
But I learnt smart, uh-huh, and I learnt fast.
From the straight’n’sav’ry life I knew I’s born an outcast
I started out, way back, a fair-ground concessionary
And now I’m running lines of my own confectionary!
Oh and it is sweet, baby! Sugah’s been my story
Sure, I’m diabetic, and my teeth are black and gory;
But I know high places in the mind that squares can’t know
‘Cos they’re too scared and Cadbury’s as “hard-stuff” as they’ll go.
So I be layin’ here pyootin’ wid my cat on my lap
Man, just chillin’ some and doing that fine Tootsie-pop rap…
Oh yeah.
Got me some good tootsie-pop action goin’ on. Here comes the rush now, baby…!
(Slump. Dribble)
March 25th, 2007 at 11:32 am
I would Nevah nevah nevah criticise anything you wrote because i goggle with amazement and wonder where it comes from and wish I had the same wide ranging imagination that knows no boundaries. Do I make myself clear? I don’t know why but thei is all coming out in Scarlett speech. Must be the clocks changing. Dammit it’s noon and I must shower before dropping in on Randall. Love the rap which you must perform!
March 25th, 2007 at 3:15 pm
Sigh.
On another not very different note at all, have you ever read any Bloom County? The above ditty would suit the boingers to a tee. And if I say that out loud it comes out as. ‘De abud ditty bud suied de boingers toa tee.’ For I have a rotten head cold and an even rottener disposition.
March 25th, 2007 at 3:18 pm
Oh and you’re single handedly totally balling up my much held hatred of all things poetryesque. So I’m going with it’s a song. It is a song, right? Sam? Right? Gah…Whoosh.
March 25th, 2007 at 5:14 pm
Dear, I sort of prefer the posts after you’ve been drinking.
Unless, of course, this is one of those, in which case,
Well done.
Cheers.
March 25th, 2007 at 5:42 pm
Pat, I know you weren’t criticising, sweets. I’d been half-noticing this stuff for a while and once I started my comment to you, out it came, that’s all.
You know, I kinda dig the idea of fusing a strong Gangsta beat with everyday Hebridean social commentary. Car-jack and peat-stack rhyme, for a start. You might be witnessing the birth of a whole new scene here, Pat! Stick wid me, sistah, we’s gonna shake this mutha right up!
Fatmammycat, I’d never even heard of Bloom County but I’m just back from Googling it and I’m going to have to check out anything with a character Wikipedia describes: Opus is a large-nosed penguin with a herring addiction who lost track of his mother during the Falklands War.
And rest easy, darling, for all your instincts are still intact and it is indeed a song. A rap song with some o’ dat bad-ass Stornoway ghetto attitude.
I wish you head-swimming strong medicine and a toasty fire for your cold. Is the heating sorted out in the new house yet?
March 25th, 2007 at 5:45 pm
Rand’, you know in some larger sense all my posts are written after drinking. This one, however, was written during a hit of cherry-flavoured Tootsie-pops left over from Thanksgiving. They’re powerful, man. They’ll take you to another cherry dimension.
March 25th, 2007 at 6:02 pm
Thank you, the heating is a go. And the Rap that has made my evening much better, as will the litre of white wine I am about to imbibe. Bloom County, you MUST check it out. It is the funniest thing I have ever had the pure pleasure of reading. Especially the earlier Regan stuff. And some of Dan Rather’s conversations Dan Rather has had with Dan Rather, including when Dan Rather interviewed Dan Rather and fell out with Dan Rather half way through it. Awesome. Humm, I might take some more of that Benilyn full on drowsy. Mixed with the wine it should really help.
March 25th, 2007 at 6:34 pm
Fmc, Night Nurse and Tylenol PM. Mmmmm. I’m on the Bloom County thing. I wonder thow I could’ve missed it ’til now. ‘Spect, it’s the old uncoolness thing again. It’s such a dawg.
March 25th, 2007 at 8:42 pm
Everyone’s singing to Fatmammycat today. She has that effect. Spring’s here, the sap’s rising, and in the spring a young man’s fancy lightly turns to thoughts of love.
But enough of that. A triumph once again Sam. I kept the beat and put on the accent, just like Puff Daddy, even when you rhymed concessionary with confectionary.
Booyahkashah!
March 25th, 2007 at 10:57 pm
Docky, if I wasn’t already bethrothed I would totally lay you out naked and roll olives all the way down your chest into the salt I had sprinkled into your belly button. Then we would lick them clean.
For sure.
FMC
March 25th, 2007 at 11:33 pm
Doc’s sap is rising, Cat’s olives are rolling – oh my! It is Spring!! There are love and daisies blooming all over my comment box and the world is reborn!
I’ve still got a big pile of leaves from autumn though. Wordpress said they’d send a truck and a man but there they sit a-mouldering, next to my sitemeter. I’ve done my best with a tarp and some pegs but we’re in for a mess if we catch a Nor’Easter, folks.
March 26th, 2007 at 7:07 am
I don’t like all that ya ya ya banjo music, you need to get some Big Jim Reeves going, ya know something you can sing along too without moving yer neck all over the place.
March 26th, 2007 at 9:40 am
the true sign of spring is when cadbury’s cream eggs start appearing in every shop….. mmmmmm
March 26th, 2007 at 10:35 am
FMC’s right, “Bloom County” is brilliant.
And I am in awe of your abilities. I can’t even write poetry that rhymes.
March 26th, 2007 at 10:52 am
Don?t you know the Tootsie-Pop is where it?s at?
You never get no satisfaction lickin? on that!
I’m going to remember that for the females in my harem. Now what is a Tootise-Pop and where do I get one?
March 26th, 2007 at 5:28 pm
Knuds, you know, in that regard Jim Reeves has a lot in common with your average Free Presbyterian dirge. Not a whole lot of neck moving in these on account of there being not much of a tune either.
birchsprite, how do you eat your’s?
Fat Sparrow, sssh – it’s not a poem – you’ll spook fmc with crazy talk like that. It’s a song see, a song.
Nanas, a Tootsie-pop is an American lollipop (in this case a cherry one) that has a chewy chocolatey bit in the middle. We had cherry ones on Valentine’s day ‘cos the wrappers are pink although i think I said it was Thanksgiving somewhere up there, by mistake. Upon eating, they make things swirly. If not, or if they make things jaggedy, you’ve had a bad or tainted one and must proceed to the nearest emergency room where you will be treated badly because of being weak enough to want a cherry-flavoured tootsie-pop in the first place.
March 26th, 2007 at 7:39 pm
I never thought I’d say it…but California actually DOES rub off on people. Next you’ll tell me your current favorite rainy day activity is sleuthing about to discover who REALLY shot Tupac. Westside love.
March 26th, 2007 at 10:37 pm
FMC: when you said Bloom country I thought of Molly Bloom and her streams of conciousness which I used to love to read. Ullysses and all that jazz -James Joyce – it’s coming back to me.
March 27th, 2007 at 6:27 am
Kara, California has rubbed off on me, though much of my time is spent washing California off my children’s grubby little hands and knees.
Pat, JJ is great and worthy of discussion but you must never again talk of jazz (phthoo! phthoo!) at this blog. Apart from the ones with tunes, most forms of jazz jangle cruelly on my nerves. I don’t know why this is, but it is.
March 27th, 2007 at 6:28 am
Pat, promise me now! No jazz!!
March 27th, 2007 at 10:42 am
JAZZ?! Don’t even go there sister, nu-uh. Jazz, we hates it, oh yes.
March 27th, 2007 at 3:50 pm
Sorry Sam! Blinks away a salty tear.