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Steel Fuses [The Inspiration]

“Yo, son. Yo. You heard ‘bout tha new nigga? Nah? Aight. Yo, I’ma tell you the dil. I’ma tell you. Name’s Maniac, son- but he ain’t crazy. Why? Slow ya roll. I’ma get there.

Word on the street ‘s he’s from the Lou, kid. The Lou. You know, Saint Louis? LOU-is. Get it? Aight, yo, so I’ma tell you. This guy, he’s a baller, son. A baller. No joke son. ‘S where the name come from. Dude just comes down ta the court one day and blows shit up. Just stood there and watched ‘til someone picked him up. Just like he expected to get burn the whole time. Shit ain’t work like that, but yo, guy finally gets the rock, and it’s the second comin’. Boy was droppin’ dimes, raining threes, breakin’ ankles lef’ and right. Squad wins eight straight and nigga bounces. Just up and leaves, trippin’ on some Maniac Magee shit. Crazy Maggie?? What? You ignant, son. Damn. Read a book once in a while. Green ain’t the only shit that expand yo’ horizons. Yo, so I’ma tell you. So, nigs up and bounces right? An’ check this- he ain’t never ball again. Never, dawg. No head even seen him an’ a ball in tha same place since. No joke.

OH SON! That’s him! Yo, yo, that nigga right there! Whatchu mean he ain’t look like nun’? You best represent. So what he only fi’-nine? He still give you and yo’ mama a facial. Lookit them calves. Steel fuses right there. Tight brick until he sees the lane. You ain’t want him to see the lane. Yo, one game, like number five, yo, kid was on the break, wit’ one man ta beat, and yo, he faked lef’, and juked right, and then ain’t nobody know where he was goin’, ‘cept for hisself. Dukes went right o’er top. Musta thought he stepped in gum or sumthin; cuz he showed guy the soles of his shoes. Shit was off tha block. After tha game, this dude challenged Mani’s hops- said he seen more air in a vacuum. Just ta prove a point, my boy got up and threw down over an SUV, son. You heard right. S. U. V. Shut that nigga up good.

Yo, son, yo… Awww dammit… That Trina? Shiiiiiiit… I was workin’ that. And she all up on Mani. All the ladies is. Boy don’t even try. He like a watering hole in the desert. Shit could be polluted as hell, but people still goin’ drink. They buggin’. They all fake. Just clingin’ on, in case dawg ever thinks it wise to grab a follow-up dose of the orange pill. You know what, though? He ain’t never goin’ do it. Nah, hold up. Check that. He goin’ do it. But it won’t be ‘til erryone backs up off him. Not ‘til he just anotha nigga, watchin’ through the fence, waitin’ for the burn that he knows, just knows, is goin’ come.