A Day in the Life of a Crack Dealer. Think about this for a while… Stop being so dam stupid. Be Smart. You have a choice. VOTE: While You Still Can! Donald Trump?
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The slums is a beautiful place for someone like me. These abandoned gutters and lost souls that vaca such an area of opportunity for dope slangin. I flipped the script on the 50 and the 9 to 5ers, and I bank. Having the keys to the candy store gives me my own personal supply.
Sure I could bitch and cuss about being beat down, shot, robbed, lied to, stabbed, but I never felt less judged being in a place like a crack house. That’s where I lived most of my life… home to me bro. I actually feel safe here.
You think you have it bad? I dodge bullets going to work. The local gang down the street just as soon shoot me, it’s all about turf and dollars dude. That’s my pink slip.
So Donald Trump eat me. I hope you get elected and fire them idiots in charge. That’s if you can figure out who is actually in charge. I know I can’t. They stand up there and say one thing, get elected and do something else all together. Depending on who gave them the most money. Corporate Congress I say..
OBama you don’t know the game, you got the rules missin. Trying to convince the fools this addiction is a disease, so you can stack the benjamins and the insurance companies pay. I’m on the scene major and front row, VIP in the dirt you want to forget about. I don’t think addiction is a disease.
This is a Cash Game on the street feeding cheese in Rat Park, I’m not the playa, I in the game, and they always come back. Just like the big insurance companies depend on. I learned the trade from them. Land of the free but mandatory insurance? Sounds like Hitler to me.
Dam I’m just a country boy from Kentucky how I ended up here I’m not sure. Watch my favored song and learn about me….. This song says it all. I can’t believe I got shot over this.
I earned my right (payed in blood) for my opinion so take a second of your day is all I ask. I paid for your freedom the hard way… please give me a second of your time and hear my perspective.
I didn’t screw up all these people lives I just help them forget. I mean down here in the hood we don’t have any options no jobs, no future. Hopelessness rules the day. Its pure pain not to be able to provide for the kids. It eats at you and messes with your head in a way I can’t explain. .
Our politicians packed our jobs and companies up and sent them to China. All that’s left is a sea of despair. Sold us out. We don’t make nothing in this country anymore Either sling crack rock or become a basketball star and we all know that white boys can’t jump. The government did teach me how to dodge bullets until one day, but that’s yet another story..I’ll save for later. Got screwed again.
You never feel alone for a friend with a fix is never one to be missed. I question my perspective on the crack candy I sell.
Am I the one to blame or did these people seek to kill their pain? You see I’m not evil I’m just trying to eat and make a living man. I don’t have any choice. Who’s going to hire me with a possession charge? I don’t seem to have any options. Can’t believe I’m still alive.
It’s like this dude, after corporate Congress and all of our fine outstanding politicians finishes screwing the citizens out of everything they own, they show up on my doorstep hurting.
When your hungry the first thing to go is your morals. Your going to eat dude. I’m trapped in this mess with the rest of them. Hell I didn’t invent this shit, the big drug companies did. They were hired by the government I understand for war many years ago. Where do you think these drugs originated from in the 1st place? R&D on your kids returning from Nam. That’s where. Your flesh and blood.
Crack is the drug of choice for me because it helps me forget my miserable life and the pain that I live in as I watch my mother go out the door with the new John.
Something happened to my head in Nam when I caught my first bullet after verifying the body count. They say I got a duel case of PTSD and some other thing? Don’t really understand it.
I don’t know how I caught it because always wore a rubber with the gook chicks, think it had something to do with counting the pile of dead bodies every day and then come across one of my friends. That was the day it happened.
Yea…That bent my head for good. Does anybody even remember what that shit was all about? I know for one thing for sure… I haven’t a clue anymore. (Still Frying My Brain) I hear we won? What a joke. We haven’t won anything I can remember. Liers..
It is like they smell it, they become super dogs. Once they gets a taste they have a sixth sense for it.Reminds me of the horror show. The walking dead. But, they are not addicted because I supply this stuff.
Their own demons eat them alive and I just happen to have a remedy for the pain and sorrow created by the fine mess of our leadership of this country. I understand, in the same boat myself.
The question is, if this is a learned behavior or a real disease? How can we make it public that it can be unlearned. Your drop science says to be learned is to repeat actions that leads to changes based on practice or experience. I’m pretty sure its not a disease. I wasn’t board a crack head. I was at one time a full functioning human.
Most of the crack addicts I know were not born a crack head. When they got hurt enough they started looking for relief. If not crack, then something else. Many times they just stop when the pain of being a crackhead becomes too much. The experts say this is rock bottom. It’s about pain and social disfunction I say. If its a disease its a self inflected one.
I wake up, throw on the clothes on my floor from the night before, look in the mirror and question if this games gonna kill me. I personally don’t know any old crack dealers. Where do they go? I roll picking up my supply for the week, cheapest way is to get a kilo and cook it up and cut it with a little bit of shit. I can’t raise the price after the fools are addicted like the legal drug companies do so I have to cut it to get my margins up. A little bit about that later.
I converse with my ace, he is like family to me. Running through my head is selling what I am given and what bitch is going to hang with me for the day. I enjoy the company, talking and negotiating. But it isn’t much of a life. At least I can keep a roof over my head and have learned to appreciate a big Mac and that’s on a good day dog. And of course the system wants to paint a big red X on my back lock me up. I don’t think I’ll ever happen.
Spitting with my fellow crackheads, I hear all their stories. How messed up their lives have been since they were shorties. They lived in the fallen areas of society forgotten by the government with drug attics, alcoholics, and been abused in ways yall never understand after the corporations and politicians finished harvesting for a profit. They are doing the same thing to the land too. Do you know who OWNS the gran canyon? Not americans… Dhaaa think about that. They done pawned that to. Google it.
What disease is this? Self inflicted? I think not. Addiction is? These repeated actions of getting screwed lead people to becoming addicted seeking no more pain because they have a problem bigger than them.
They were skooled to become an addict by the great leadership of this country.selling off our livelihood. Just where would I be able to get a job anyway? The NSA (maybe). Well nope not happening in this country anymore. Now they want to lock me up because I need to eat. They sold my job so now I’m screwed.
Dog I’m telling you we’ve ALL been screwed this country is going down the toilet. So if you despise me just remember one day in the near future you’ll probably be really happy to see me too. Just remember big brother is watching you dog.Soon you’ll have a big red x on your back. Smart phones they say.
The played hoes lay half-dressed on the couch enjoying their easy living and free fix. I spit at them for a minute to see if I wanna hit it. Gotta be careful cause the money brings bitches and the bitches bring lies. I can’t get caught between the bitches, my steel, and my chips. There’s a big idea of respect coming into houses like these. What is in here is theirs, unless you pay the right price. That goes for the woman too.
I got busta, hoes, and the 50 watchin. I pack steel and roll deep. I never know if I will get bum rushed, walkin out of those doors and have a piece held to my chest, or a knife to my throat. Is it the smack, or the stacks of cash? Nobody cares unless you be pretty, or dying, never about the process in between which is where I see myself as I walk out of this dope house once again. I’ll be back, hopefully. I know that one day soon I probably won’t.
You don’t need to be a rocket scientist to figure out what causes addiction. You can learn a lot from a crack head and let me tell you i’m an expert. I think they have it all wrong. These guys nailed it. Watch the clip below
Click below you can learn a lot from a dummy.. Especially a crack head. Below is the results of the problem. Take the the time to understand where these people are coming from.
No more of this crap
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