Gangsta Crap

I'll start by apologising - no blog yesterday because of severe overdose of Scottish falling down water (free Glenmorangie for the Guv'nor's birthday in case you were wondering)
So this evening I was obviously looking forward to a bit of quality peace and quiet - Mister Squeaky pushed out complaining into the night, big pot of coffee on the go and so on so the last thing I needed was the local gangsta rappers doing their thing in the bin refuge.
Now I might have been impressed if they had actually been da lyrical poets that they claim to be, but to be perfectly honest I've seen better lyricism expressed in a Patience Bloody Strong Greeting card. Da boyz from da 'ood would be better off skanking back to school and getting some learning in - then they might actually be able to find a word that rhymes with "Tits" instead of just looking like them. And another thing - what is all this with wearing your trousers around your knees? It don't make you look street mate, it makes you look like you've got a bad case of diarrhoea and you need fast access when the going gets tough as it were...