Yo Boulevard, I done see you skulkin’ along in yo’ baggy pants and den up in duh Triple Food Store. Grocer done say, “You’s gos to buy three bag o’ potato chip o’ three can of Mountain Dew, not just one each.” Triple food, yo!
Also, see yo azz down at Boulevard Lotto & Groceries. Why yo’ azz always down deh messin’ wit’ dat Lotto? You ain’t ever gonna get lucky wif dat. You ain’t got no lucky charmz. Ain’t really much mo’ places to go on Boulevard other dan Triple Food Store and Boulevard Lotto, so done always see you sad azz walksin up and down duh street. Why don’t you find yoself a porch to stand on?
Is deh really fine wine for sale inside the Texaco station? Seem to me, no.
Yo Boulevard, a lot of you iz hood, that stretch just above Sweet Auburn to Ponce de Leon in the Old Fourth Ward, that straight up hood. Not hood like partz of South Atlanta that’s just so po’ with crumbling shacks and signs for hair salons that ain’t existed fo’ decades, but it still hood sittin’ der in the middle of town with dem baggy pants.