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Def C |
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Hey yo! Sup? Check me out. Def C. Illest leader of tha Conservative Partay since Sir Alec Douglas-Muthafucking-Home, dog!
And on that substantive question of ‘what sup’: a raft of dope social policay reform beats with compassionate-ass conservatism at they heart. That, at this time of rapid change in tha world, is ‘what sup’.
2006. New Year, a whole new bunch of shit. And I be coming STRAIGHT OUTTA WHITNEY, OXFORDSHIRE to pimp-slap tha political landscape into bitchhood, dog!
Keepin’ it real, C at tha wheel, Mutherfuckas be dissing me be kissing my ass soon, including Mr. Simon Heffa of tha Daily Telegraph, you muthafucking Beano-ass pussy.
Now I can vibe on that old skool shit. I love that shit. Baroness Thatcher, she drop some muthadefuckinglicious shizzle on tha nation befo her defenestration, dog. But at tha next election a whole generation of peeps be voting who be being born after Mrs Thatcher left office, you feeling me?
So when it comes to tackling tha big challenges our societay faces, I will not be tha prisoner of an ideological past. Over. Ghost, baby. Mutatis mutandis.
Having paid tha cost to be tha boss of tha Conservative Partay (motto: ‘compassionate, mashin’ it’) my attention now be turning to my adversarays. To what extent will tha issue of Gordon Brown’s credibilitay influence tha undecided votas?
Yo Brown, you a clown. You just like Blair. Yeah. You lump. You lump. You lump you lump you lump. You lump. You lump. You fucking piece of shit. Lump.
I believe in tha values and principles of our N to tha H to tha S. We want to improve it for all tha niggas, not help tha few to hustle they way to a new hip, dog.
Furthermo, those voices warning about tha dangers of ghettoisation in our country and a disintegrating sense of national cohesion be tight as a muthafucka. They some bad shit in tha world and no shit. Except tha shit in tha world to which I’ve just referred, obviously, and which I shall be tackling as a prioritay.
From now on tha partay don't stop till we blow up, now every minor political nigga wanna show up, manuev'ing to this, grooving to this, dipping to this, flipping to this, tripping to this, ain't no skipping to this, trust this, bust this, it's too hot to touch this, muthafucking Monday Club! That's how the game go, dog!
No pussy at Eton, alas.
Best regards, Def C. PS. Throughout 2006 I shall be seeking tha views of tha peeps of Britain during tha formumuthafuckinglation of my policays.
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