short

Gin&Tonic and chronic had me feel’in bionic
Then I got up in that dime’s ass like a Supa colonic
I beat it up for about half an hour, then I killed that cat for another
When we were through she served me brain&brew, word to yo mother

daily devotioal

Up before the sun; wipe the crust out my eyes
Look in the mirror and straight start tell’in lies
“You gone get it today, it’s your time to shine!”
Shit, I'm sick and tired of the back of the fuck’in line
I’m start’in to feel too old to be feel’in like this
Can’t miss what you never had, but them millions I miss
When will I get to Paris? Where are my ill ass rides?
Will I build my dream home, with that gym inside?
How them fake muthafuckas make it and I’m stuck on struggle?
Where are my thick ass dimes that are down for the two ball juggle?
I gotta get it, I gotta get it, I gotta get before I die
You say I’ma die broke? You a muthafuck’in lie...

on some Special Ed ish

Think, just blink, and I’ll smash your chick three times
Just imagine in you blinked three times
Damn, she’d be cum’in and cum’in and cum’in…

In Candy, In Candy by Trapper Don da MC

Those of you that are old enough may remember the80s television drama about a doctor named Trapper John, M.D. Well, I came up with some funny ass shit yesterday. I thought up a new “Trap Rapper” persona; Trapper Don da MC. Trapper Don da MC recently wrote a new song called In Candy, In Candy. You wanna hear it? Here it go…

I’m ride’in around in Candy, in candy. I’m ride’in around in Candy, in candy.
I’m ride’in around in Candy, in candy. I said, I’m ride’in around in Candy, in candy.
My hommie grip’in grain and switch’in lanes, I’m in the back seat
Got this thick ass dime named Candy steady bounce’in on the Don’s meat
Candy paint drip’in on the slab, crome Js on the feet
Before we started smash’in, we burned down a fat sweet
I’m ride’in around in Candy, in candy. I’m ride’in around in Candy, in candy.
I’m ride’in around in Candy, in candy. I said, I’m ride’in around in Candy, in candy.
After Candy came she blew me, and I skeet, skeet, skeeted in her face
She got cleaned up, we got purple leaned up, then I dropped her off at her place
Around my way this type of shit goes down all day, every day
So if you call and ask what I’m do’in, don’t be surprised if I say,
I’m ride’in around in Candy, in candy. I’m ride’in around in Candy, in candy.
I’m ride’in around in Candy, in candy. I said, I’m ride’in around in Candy, in candy.

lost short circa 2010

i was lay’in back in the lab smoke’in on some fire buddha
drink’in brown liquor and eat’in saltines and gouda
i got a text from a dime that’s been die’in for me to shoot her
with my SupaDupa sized SupaDupa pink thang shooter
she said, “Supa, I want you to punish it like Big Pun!!!
This thang needs a beat’in and think you got the right one…”
i became sort of perplexed as to what to do next
cause my bona fide caught my vibe and she was looking rather vexted

skunk

I was driving home the other day with my wife in the passenger seat when we drove past a dead skunk. She immediately let her window up but I pushed my window down. She asked what was wrong with me that I would let my window down to smell a dead skunk.
I began to try to explain to her that the smell of that skunk reminded me of some bomb ass weed that me and my hommies used to smoke when we were in college. She asked how I could smoke something that smelled like a dead animal. I tried to explain that the weed didn’t smell like a dead animal, it smelled like the skunk’s stench.
She still didn’t understand, she couldn’t fathom how I could have fond memories of something that smelled like skunk spray. No matter how I tried to describe, she did not get it. I grew tired of trying to explain it to her so I changed the topic of conversation. But, before I got too far down the road I inhaled deeply and remembered those bomb ass sacks of skunk weed from the mid-90s.

another ep

She claimed that she wasn’t choosy, but she still picked me
She said, “You a big nigga, show me how you throw that D!”
You know I D’d that ass up like that grizzly Marc Gasol
Then I folded her like origami and bounced her Off the Wall
I told her that I wasn’t like other guys, then went straight Thriller on that ass
Now we go ride’in every Thursday in her man’s S-Class

another Supa short

i’m known to light shit up big like the 4th of July
pour-up some brown liquor and watch me write my fuck’in name in the sky
got your girl on Priceline book’in a seat because i’m just that fly
i told her to bring her girlfriend, we can chill and get SupaDupa high

one July day in Texas

“Ooohh baby, it smells good-than-a-muthafucka in here!!!”


“Thank you honey, want a beer?”

“Hell yea, I been out in that hot ass Texas sun fuck’in with your car all day; I need a cold brew!”

“Sit down; I’ll fix you a plate too… Here you go honey.”

“What the fuck is this shit???”

“What?”

“This shit that you put on my plate?”

“Smothered pork chops, mashed potatoes, and green beans.”

“Bitch, you know I don’t eat no fuck’in swine!!! I done told your ass that I don’t eat no fuck’in swine!!!”

“That’s not swine baby, those are pork chops…”

“You know what??? I gotta go…”

“Where you go’in baby?”

“I’m going to my other bitch’s house; she knows what her nigga likes to eat…”

another ep

So I hit it, not just to say I did it, I wasn't committed
I just wanted to know how she would act when I’m up in it
At first she was like, “Ohh baby, that thang’s too big!” And then she got acclimated
That pink panther stretched out and my SupaMan was accommodated
It got good too her and she started scratch’in at my chest
Then I put her on all fours, and I laid that cat to rest
She came three times and said, “Supa, you the whole thing!”
Then she put that grey matter on my joint and treated me like a king

one hundred dollar bill

It was back in my dark days, early 21st century; I was depressed and constantly smoking herb and cigarettes. I was in the grocery store about to pay a bill; there was this old woman at the counter next to me digging through her purse for something. Out of the corner of my eye I saw her drop something that looked like green paper. I looked down and it was a one hundred dollar bill. I quickly looked up at the lady and she was still digging through her purse, totally oblivious of the BenFrank that just fell out of her purse. I took a side step in her direction and placed the sole of my right shoe on top of the money, totally covering it. I slid my foot back over to the left and remained cool. As the teller was processing my bill, and the old lady was still looking for something in her purse, I knelt down and picked up the money and slipped it into my pocket.


I walked out of the store feeling good; I was high, and I had just come up on a hundred dollars. Those good feelings quickly turned to shame and misery. After I got home, a few hours later, I began to think about what I had done. I took that old woman’s hard earned money. She could have needed that to pay for medication, or a bill, or food. I began to think about my grandmother and how hard she worked for what she had. How would she have felt about losing, rather having her money stolen by some smoked out and depressed asshole? I was sick, and there was no way of finding that old lady to give her money back. The moment wore off but the bad taste never left my mouth. I was ashamed of myself for taking that old lady’s money. It felt like a cloud was constantly over my head. The fact that I shopped at that same store quite often did not make things any better. Every time something went wrong and money was involved I thought about that one hundred dollar bill. I started to think that I had cursed my family by taking that money.

I carried that shit around with me for about nine years. I did not think about it every day, but it was there. One day I got an idea; I’ll take one hundred dollars out of my next check and give it so some random old lady. I got paid on the following Friday, and after I cashed my check I headed to the store. I walked the aisles looking for an old Black lady. I found one in the meat section, by the ground beef. I walked up and said, “Excuse me mam, but do you believe in karma?”

She gave me a kind of blank, scared look and said, “Who?”

“Never mind, I found some money right here in this store some years ago and now I would like to pass it on to someone. Can I give it to you?”

“Sure, I guess…”

I placed the crisp one hundred dollar bill in her palm, “Thank you mam!”

“Thank you!” She replied.

I walked away and didn’t look back.