Da Rake

Durin tha summer of 2003, events up in tha northeastern United Hoodz involvin a strange, human-like creature sparked brief local media interest before a apparent blackout was enacted. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! This type'a shiznit happens all tha time. Little or no shiznit was left intact, as most online n' freestyled accountz of tha creature was mysteriously destroyed.
Primarily focused up in rural New York state n' once found up in Idaho, self proclaimed witnesses holla'd at storiez of they encountas wit a cold-ass lil creature of unknown origin. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Emotions ranged from mad traumatic levelz of fright n' discomfort, ta a almost childlike sense of playfulnizz n' curiosity. While they published versions is no longer on record, tha memories remained bangin naaahhmean, biatch? Several of tha involved partizzles fuckin started lookin fo' lyrics dat year.
In early 2006, tha collaboration had accumulated nearly two dozen documents pimpin between tha 12th century n' present day, spannin 4 continents, n' you can put dat on yo' toast. In almost all cases, tha stories was identical. It aint nuthin but tha nick nack patty wack, I still gots tha bigger sack. I've been up in contact wit a gangmember of dis crew n' was able ta git some excerpts from they upcomin book.
A Suicizzle Note: 1964
"As I prepare ta take mah game, I feel it necessary ta assuage any guilt or pain I have introduced all up in dis act. Well shiiiit, it aint tha fault of mah playas other than his muthafuckin ass. For once I awoke n' felt his thugged-out lil' presence fo' realz. And once I awoke n' saw his wild lil' form. Once again n' again n' again I awoke n' heard his voice, n' looked tha fuck into his wild lil' fuckin eyes. I cannot chill without fear of what tha fuck I might next awake ta experience. I cannot eva wake. Peace out."
Found up in tha same wooden box was two empty envelopes addressed ta Lil' Willy n' Rose, n' one loose underground letter wit no envelope:
"Dearest Linnie,
I have prayed fo' yo thugged-out ass yo. Dude was rappin yo' name."
A Journal Entry (translated from Spanish): 1880
"I have experience tha top billin terror. Shiiit, dis aint no joke. I have experienced tha top billin terror. Shiiit, dis aint no joke. I have experienced tha top billin terror. Shiiit, dis aint no joke. I peep his wild lil' fuckin eyes when I close mine. They is hollow. Black. They saw me n' pierced mah dirty ass yo. His wet hand. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! I'ma not chill yo. His voice (unintelligible text)."
A Marinerz Log: 1691
"Dude came ta me up in mah chill. From tha foot of mah bed I felt a sensation. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch yo. Dude took every last muthafuckin thang. We must return ta England. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! We shall not return here again n' again n' again all up in tha request of tha Rake."
From a Witness: 2006
"Three muthafuckin years ago, I had just returned from a trip from Niagara Falls wit mah crew fo' tha 4th of July. Us thugs was all straight-up exhausted afta a long-ass dizzle of driving, so mah homeboy n' I put tha lil playas right ta bed n' called it a night.
At bout 4am, I raised up thankin mah homeboy had gotten up ta use tha restroom. I used tha moment ta loot back tha sheets, only ta wake his ass up in tha process. I apologized n' holla'd at his ass I though he gots outta bed. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! When tha pimpin' muthafucka turned ta grill me, he gasped n' pulled his wild lil' feet up from tha end of tha bed so quickly his knee almost knocked mah crazy ass outta tha bed. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! Dude then grabbed mah crazy ass n' holla'd nothing.
After adjustin ta tha dark fo' a half second, I was able ta peep what tha fuck caused tha strange erection. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch fo' realz. At tha foot of tha bed, chillin n' facin away from us, there was what tha fuck rocked up ta be a naked dude, or a big-ass hairless dawg of some sort. Its body posizzle was disturbin n' unnatural, as if it had been hit by a cold-ass lil hoopty or something. For some reason, I was not instantly frightened by it yo, but mo' concerned as ta its condition. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch fo' realz. At dis point I was somewhat under tha assumption dat we was supposed ta help his muthafuckin ass.
I be a gangsta yo, but y'all knew dat n' mah homeboy was peerin over his thugged-out arm n' knee, tucked tha fuck into tha fetal position, occasionally glancin all up in mah grill before returnin ta tha creature.
In a gangbangin' flurry of motion, tha creature scrambled round tha side of tha bed, n' then crawled quickly up in a gangbangin' flailin sort of motion right along tha bed until dat shiznit was less than a gangbangin' foot from mah homeboyz face. Da creature was straight-up silent fo' bout 30 secondz (or probably closer ta 5, it just seemed like a while) just lookin at mah homeboy. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! Da creature then placed its hand on his knee n' ran tha fuck into tha hallway, leadin ta tha kids' rooms.I screamed n' ran fo' tha lightswitch, plannin ta stop his ass before dat schmoooove muthafucka hurt mah lil' thugs. When I gots ta tha hallway, tha light from tha bedroom was enough ta peep it crouchin n' hunched over bout 20 feet away yo. Dude turned round n' looked directly at me, covered up in blood. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! I be fly as a gangbangin' falcon, soarin all up in tha sky dawwwwg! I flipped tha switch on tha wall n' saw mah daughter Clara.
Da creature ran down tha stairs while mah homeboy n' I rushed ta help our daughter n' shit. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Biatch was straight-up badly fucked up n' was rappin only once mo' up in her short game. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Biatch holla'd "he is tha Rake".
I be a gangsta yo, but y'all knew dat n' mah homeboy drove his hoopty tha fuck into a lake dat night, while rushin our daughter ta tha hospitizzle. It aint nuthin but tha nick nack patty wack, I still gots tha bigger sack. They did not survive.
Bein a lil' small-ass town, shizzle gots round pretty doggystyle. Da five-o was helpful at first, n' tha local newspaper took a shitload of interest as well. But fuck dat shiznit yo, tha word on tha street is dat tha rap was never published n' tha local televizzle shizzle never followed up either.
For nuff muthafuckin months, mah lil hustla Quentin n' I stayed up in a hotel near mah parentz crib fo' realz. After our phat asses decided ta return home, I fuckin started lookin fo' lyrics mah dirty ass. I eventually located a playa up in tha next hood over whoz ass had a similar story. We gots up in contact n' fuckin started rappin' bout our experiences yo. Dude knew of two other playas up in New York whoz ass had peeped tha creature we now referred ta as tha Rake.
It took tha four of our asses bout two solid muthafuckin yearz of hustlin on tha internizzle n' freestylin lettas ta come up wit a lil' small-ass collection of what tha fuck we believe ta be accountz of tha Rake. None of dem gave any details, history or follow up. One journal had a entry involvin tha creature up in its first 3 pages, n' never mentioned it again. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch fo' realz. A shipz log explained not a god damn thang of tha encounter, sayin only dat they was holla'd at ta leave by tha Rake. That was tha last entry up in tha log.
There were, however, nuff instances where tha creaturez visit was one of a seriez of visits wit tha same person. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Multiple playas also mentioned bein spoken to, mah daughter included. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! This hustled our asses ta wonder if tha Rake had hit up any of our asses before our last encounter.
I set up a gangbangin' finger-lickin' digital recorder near mah bed n' left it hustlin all night, every last muthafuckin night, fo' two weeks. I would tediously scan all up in tha soundz of me rollin round up in mah bed each dizzle when I woke up. By tha end of tha second week, I was like used ta tha occasionizzle sound of chill while blurrin all up in tha recordin at 8 times tha aiiight speed. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! (This still took almost a minute every last muthafuckin day)
On tha straight-up original gangsta dizzle of tha third week, I thought I heard suttin' different. What I found was a shrill voice. Dat shiznit was tha Rake. I can't dig it long enough ta even begin ta transcribe dat shit. I aint let mah playas dig it yet fo' realz. All I know is dat I've heard it before, n' I now believe dat it was rappin when dat shiznit was chillin up in front of mah homeboy. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! I don't remember hearin anythang all up in tha time yo, but fo' some reason, tha voice on tha recorder immediately brangs me back ta dat moment.
Da thoughts dat must have gone all up in mah daughterz head make me straight-up upset.
I aint peeped tha Rake since he fucked up mah game yo, but I know dat dat schmoooove muthafucka has been up in mah room while I slept. I know n' fear dat one night I be bout ta raise up ta peep his ass starin all up in mah face."
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