Handz forcefully pushed a pile of folded threadz tha fuck into a suitcase, before slammin it closed n' zippin it up ta ensure every last muthafuckin thang would stay inside. "That ought ta be every last muthafuckin thang." Itaki was rappin ta his dirty ass, sighin as da perved-out muthafucka sat down on his bed next ta his suitcase. This would be tha last time he'd be chillin here fo' a long-ass time, da thug was goin ta miss dat shit. Kind of.

His eyes lingered down ta his smartphone; oldschool tech, certainly outdated n' up in need of a upgrade. Weather: Cloudy, heavy chizzle of rain. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Great. Thatz just what tha fuck he needed: To be soaked before his cold-ass trip. Maybe headin over ta tha station now would be a phat idea, biatch? Dude was just trippin' off these last moments up in da crib anyhow; Might as well give dem up in exchange fo' not gettin caught up in tha rain, right, biatch? He'd be back... Eventually yo. He'd just gotta git over it n' be thinkin bout tha future, fo' now, nahmeean, biatch? That bein holla'd, da thug was still up in disbelief: Casper Academy was lookin like like tha place yo. Dude still couldn't believe he managed ta git ta such a place yo, but if he eva wanted ta run his own bidnizz, gettin a ejaculation at a place like dat seemed necessary.

Now if only dat schmoooove muthafucka had some scrilla ta start a funky-ass bidnizz! He'd be phat ta bounce tha fuck out.

Slippin his beeper tha fuck into his thugged-out lil' pocket n' standing, Itaki grabbed tha handle of his suitcase, tuggin it off tha bed. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! Dude made his way towardz his fuckin lil' door, passin all up in tha open doorway n' makin his way down tha hall, spottin his crazy-ass mutha up in tha livin room, on tha couch fo' realz. A lil' small-ass smile crossed his wild lil' face. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Biatch might not done been able ta provide fo' his ass all tha time yo, but she always loved his muthafuckin ass. Itaki cared fo' her deeply, n' couldn't wait ta come back home n' show her how tha fuck much his schmoooove ass could improve.

"Mother." Itaki was rappin up, approachin her n' shiznit yo. Dude stopped near tha arm of tha couch, lookin down at her n' shit.

"O-Oh," His mutha responded, lookin up at his muthafuckin ass. "Is it straight-up dat time already?"

"Mhm. I be goin ta head ta tha station before tha storm starts, n' you can put dat on yo' toast. Don't wanna be sick when I git ta Seattle." Itaki explained plainly.

His mutha stood, lookin at her boy. While he always didn't do thangs tha right way, n' tended ta be somewhat rude, she knew her baby pimp was a phat person. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Biatch just hoped he managed ta cook up some fuckin playaz n' trip off his dirty ass up in Seattle, he needed ta stop bein ridin' solo all muthafuckin day. It make me wanna hollar playa! Dude always had her yo, but she knew he needed playas outside of a protectizzle mutha n' shit.

"... We've known you was goin fo' months yo, but I be still not ready!" Biatch was rappin loudly, wrappin her arms round Itaki n' squeezin him, causin his ass ta cough from tha air bein forced outta his muthafuckin ass.

"M-Mother, we'll be up in contact at all times. It'll be fine--"

"Thatz not like havin mah baby here!"

Eyes darkenin as da perved-out muthafucka stood there, Itaki shook his head slowly. Dope grief, he knew dis was goin ta be rough yo, but da ruffneck didn't expect all dis bullshit yo. Dude wrapped his wild lil' free arm round his crazy-ass mother, huggin her back yo. Honestly, if his schmoooove ass could find tha same opportunitizzle here, da thug wouldn't muthafuckin bounce. But dis was a pimped out opportunitizzle fo' him, n' dat shiznit was up in his blood ta not pass up a phat opportunity.

Even if tha thug whoz ass juiced it up dat way was long gone.

"Alright, aiiiight. Let me go." Itaki demanded calmly, brangin his thugged-out arm ta his side yo. His mutha pulled away yo, but not before givin his ass a lick on tha cheek, causin Itaki ta roll his wild lil' fuckin eyes.

"Yo ass promise every last muthafuckin thang is ghon be fine, biatch? That you gonna be safe?" His mutha questioned, observin his muthafuckin ass.

Itaki nodded up in response, glancin all up in tha door. Shiiit, dis aint no joke. "Yeah," Dude answered. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! "I don't plan fo' thangs ta go wrong." Dude added, his cold-ass tone gettin a tad snappy. But dat hint of aggression was cute, up in his crazy-ass motherz eyes.

"Thatz a promise, Tanooki~ Yo ass aren't allowed ta break it~!" His mutha sang.

Itaki gritted his cold-ass teeth all up in tha nickname yo, but shrugged it off. Dat shiznit was just her way of showin affection. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. "Yeah, I know." Dude holla'd, struttin tha fuck into tha kitchen. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch yo. Dude opened a cold-ass lil cabinet n' pulled up a half-empty blue bag, grippin it tightly yo. Dude turned n' eyed his crazy-ass mutha fo' a moment, as dat shiznit was awkward ta find last lyrics before headin off yo. Dude had ta be thinkin of something. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Somethang sick, polite--

"Yo ass betta git tha door?"

_{"Goddamn it, dome."}

"O-Oh, of course!" His mutha dashed over ta tha door, openin it n' lettin cold air flow all up in cause I gots dem finger-lickin' chickens wit tha siz-auce. Itaki approached n' strutted all up in tha doorway, before turnin n' lookin at his crazy-ass mutha one last time.

"Thanks fo' every last muthafuckin thang..." Dude holla'd, kind of awkwardly, as da thug wasn't shizzle if da thug was choosin phat lyrics or not.

"Yo ass is welcome, Tanooki~" His mutha sang, happily yo. Dude still couldn't git mad bout tha name. "Yo ass don't forget tha promise you made biaaatch! If you break it, I be bout ta be upset!"

"I know." Itaki replied.

"Dope hommie! And don't forget:" Biatch smiled warmly at him, despite tha cold breeze. "I gots a straight-up boner fo' you, nahmean biiiatch?"

Itakiz grill turned a lil' bit red, causin his ass ta look away. Out of embarrassment, da ruffneck decided ta turn n' start strutting. "Ludd you like a muthafucka." Dude holla'd back, raisin a hand n' wavin as his thugged-out lil' punk-ass fuckin started ta make his cold-ass trip ta tha station.

Dude bit his fuckin lip, holdin back how tha fuck he felt bout leavin yo. Dude simply kept his head down n' started struttin yo. His trip had gone on fo' bout fifteen minutes, n' as he looked up in tha sky, his schmoooove ass could swear drizzle would pour down any minute yo. Dude picked up his thugged-out lil' pace ta git ta tha station quickly yo, but knew dat schmoooove muthafucka had ta make one stop first.

Seein tha station ahead, he instead ducked tha fuck into a nearby alley yo. Dude strutted over ta a lil' small-ass collection of boxes, n' sat his suitcase down. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch yo. Dude crouched down, n' opened tha blue bag up in his other hand; then started pourin its contents tha fuck into a funky-ass bowl near tha boxes.

Dat shiznit was only bout ten secondz secondz before tha mewin started; Pussies gatherin around, hurryin ta tha bowl ta be fed. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! Itaki smiled all up in tha sight, takin a moment ta pet one of them, which purred happily.

"Sadly it'll be up ta you muthafuckas from here." Itaki holla'd, standin up yo. Dude peeped on fo' a moment yo, but only until dat schmoooove muthafucka heard something: A drop of water, smackin onto his coat.

"Shiznit!" Itaki cursed, grabbin his suitcase n' dashin off yo. Hell no, da thug wasn't gettin drizzled on! Dude booked it outta tha alley n' ran straight towardz tha station, hearin a funky-ass boom up in tha sky above, as wata started pourin down. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch yo. Dude pulled tha hood of his jacket up, n' kept going.

Dude was careful goin up tha stairs yo, but thankfully afta dat da thug was free from tha rain. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Pullin tha hood of his jacket down, da perved-out muthafucka shook his head up in disbelief dat he juiced it up without gettin si-

"Aah-CHOO!"

Itaki sniffled, teeth probably locked n loaded ta shatta wit how tha fuck irritated da thug was now yo. Dude groaned fo' a moment, before realizin if he kept chillin round complainin he'd miss his cold-ass train. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Itaki stood straight n' put a somewhat professionizzle appearizzle back on; Continuin forward ta board tha train, n' ta start a freshly smoked up stage of his wild lil' freakadelic game.