Crabz Ina Bucket

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The theory of the crabs in the bucket.....a crab's gonna try to climb out of the bucket....his hatin' ass brethren are gonna see this and pull him down...and so on...and so forth.

Do I feel it's like this in Cincinnati? Yes. I do.

But why?

This city is very small, but everybody here has Hollywood dreams, and wants to see their name in bright lights....not EVERYBODY....but all we get from the continental U.S are whatever the tradewinds blow this way. We wanna be big time Hollywood stars, fashion designers, fashion models, movie stars, cocaine sniffers, and fast life livers.

I say fuck all that, I just want the big break.

He doesn't know this, but I'm plotting on jumping on the M.O Hour bandwagon and trotting towards Cali'......if I can convince Average Joe who's been wanting the same thing, we might could go as a trio....nobody can do it alone.

I'm just tired of being bigger than life and being confined to a cage the size of an lamens: I don't wanna feel like a sumo wrestler wearing a onesie(in case you've never seen the word:'s baby clothing...)

I was walking around Clifton taking in the different personalities. People are gonna respect you if you respect them, but after that, nobody gives a fuck.

Maybe the Mid-West is stunting my creativity....maybe this is where life has been driving me....nobody blows up out of here over here......I dunno.

I ought to think on it.....or throw caution to the wind and listen to that guidance counselor.....

"Call that nigga on the phone!!"

--midas is going, going...--

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