(As always, thanks to gizoogle.net for cleaning this up into plain language the people can understand.)
Vice Prezzy Biden, Mista Muthafuckin Chief Justice, Memberz of tha
United Hoodz Congress, distinguished guests, n' fellow playa haters:
Each time our crazy-ass asses gather ta inaugurate a prez, our
crazy-ass asses bear witnizz ta tha endurin strength of our
Constipation. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Our
thugged-out asses affirm tha promise of our democracy. Our thugged-out
asses recall dat what tha fuck bindz dis hood together aint tha flavaz
of our skin and tha tenetz of our faith and tha originz of our names.
What makes our asses exceptionizzle what tha fuck makes our asses
American is our allegiizzle ta a idea, articulated up in a
thugged-out declaration done cooked up mo' than two centuries ago:
“Our thugged-out asses hold these truths ta be self-evident, dat all
pimps is pimped equal, dat they is endowed by they Creator wit certain
unalienable rights, dat among these is Life, Liberty, n' tha pursuit of
Todizzle our crazy-ass asses continue a never-endin journey, ta
bridge tha meanin of em lyrics wit tha realitizzlez of our time. For
history drops some lyrics ta our asses dat while these truths may be
self-evident, they have never been self-executing; dat while freedom be a
gift from Dogg, it must be secured by His gangstas here on Earth. Da
patriotz of 1776 did not fight ta replace tha tyranny of a mackdaddy wit
tha privilegez of a gangbangin' few and tha rule of a mob. They gave
ta our asses a Republic, a posse of, n' by, n' fo' tha gangstas,
entrustin each generation ta keep safe our foundin creed.
For mo' than two hundred years, our crazy-ass asses have.
Through blood drawn by lash n' blood drawn by sword, our crazy-ass
asses hustled dat no union dropped on tha principlez of liberty n'
equalitizzle could survive half-slave n' half-free. Our thugged-out
asses done cooked up ourselves anew, n' vowed ta move forward together.
Together, our crazy-ass asses determined dat a modern economizzle
requires railroadz n' highways ta speed travel n' commerce; schools n'
colleges ta train our workers.
Together, our crazy-ass asses discovered dat a gangbangin' free
market only thrives when there is rulez ta ensure competizzle n' fair
Together, our crazy-ass asses resolved dat a pimped out hood must
care fo' tha vulnerable, n' protect its gangstas from life’s worst
hazardz n' misfortune.
Through it all, our crazy-ass asses have never relinquished our
skepticizzle of central authority, nor have our crazy-ass asses
succumbed ta tha fiction dat all society’s ills can be cured all up in
posse alone. Our celebration of initiatizzle n' enterprise; our
insistence on hard work n' underground responsibility, is constants up
in our character.
But our crazy-ass asses have always understood dat when times
chizzle, so must we; dat fidelitizzle ta our foundin principlez requires
freshly smoked up responses ta freshly smoked up challenges; dat
preservin our individual freedoms ultimately requires collectizzle
action. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. For tha American
gangstas can no mo' hook up tha demandz of todizzle’s ghetto by actin
alone than American soldiers could have kicked it wit tha forcez of
fascizzle and communizzle wit muskets n' militias. No single thug can
train all tha math n' science mackdaddys we’ll need ta equip our lil
pimps fo' tha future, and build tha roadz n' networks n' research labs
dat will brang freshly smoked up thangs n' bidnizzes ta our shores.
Now, mo' than ever, our crazy-ass asses must do these thangs together,
as one nation, n' one gangstas.
This generation of Americans has been tested by crises dat steeled
our resolve n' proved our resilience. A decade of war is now ending.
An economic recovery has begun. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy
biatch. America’s possibilitizzles is limitless, fo' our crazy-ass
asses possess all tha qualitizzles dat dis ghetto without boundaries
demands: youth n' drive; diversitizzle n' openness; a endless
capacitizzle fo' risk n' a gift fo' reinvention. I aint talkin' bout
chicken n' gravy biatch. My fuckin fellow Americans, our crazy-ass
asses is done cooked up fo' dis moment, n' our crazy-ass asses will
seize it so long as our crazy-ass asses seize it together.
For we, tha gangstas, understand dat our ghetto cannot succeed when a
shrinkin few do straight-up well n' a growin nuff barely make dat shit.
Our thugged-out asses believe dat America’s prosperitizzle must rest
upon tha broad shouldaz of a risin middle class. Our thugged-out asses
know dat Tha Ghetto thrives when every last muthafuckin thug can find
independence n' pride up in they work; when tha wagez of honest labor
liberate crews from tha brink of bullshit. Our thugged-out asses is
true ta our creed when a lil ho born tha fuck into tha bleakest poverty
knows dat her ass has tha same stupid-ass chizzle ta succeed as anybody
else, cuz her ass be a American, her ass is free, n' her ass is equal,
not just up in tha eyez of Dogg but also up in our own.
Our thugged-out asses understand dat outworn programs is inadequate
ta tha needz of our time. Our thugged-out asses must harnizz freshly
smoked up ideas n' technologizzle ta remake our posse, revamp our tax
code, reform our schools, n' empower our playa hatas wit tha game they
need ta work harder, learn more, n' reach higher. But while tha means
will chizzle, our purpose endures: a hood dat rewardz tha effort n'
determination of every last muthafuckin single American. I aint talkin'
bout chicken n' gravy biatch. That is what tha fuck dis moment
requires. That is what tha fuck will give real meanin ta our creed.
Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka!
We, tha gangstas, still believe dat every last muthafuckin playa
hater deserves a funky-ass basic measure of securitizzle n' dignity.
Our thugged-out asses must make tha hard chizzlez ta reduce tha cost of
game care n' tha size of our deficit. But our crazy-ass asses reject
tha belief dat Tha Ghetto must chizzle between carin fo' tha generation
dat built dis ghetto n' investin up in tha generation dat will build its
future. For our crazy-ass asses remember tha lessonz of our past, when
twilight muthafuckin years was spent up in poverty, n' muthafathaz of a
cold-ass lil lil pimp wit a thugged-out disabilitizzle had nowhere ta
turn. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Our thugged-out
asses do not believe dat up in dis ghetto, freedom is reserved fo' tha
lucky, and happinizz fo' tha few. Our thugged-out asses recognize dat
no matter how tha fuck responsibly our crazy-ass asses live our lives,
any one of us, at any time, may grill a thang loss, and a sudden
illness, and a home swept away up in a terrible storm. Da commitments
our crazy-ass asses make ta each other all up in Medicare, n'
Medicaid, n' Social Securitizzle these thangs do not sap our
initiative; they strengthen us. They do not make our asses a hood of
takers; they free our asses ta take tha risks dat make dis ghetto pimped
We, tha gangstas, still believe dat our obligations as Americans is
not just ta ourselves yo, but ta all posterity. Our thugged-out asses
will respond ta tha threat of climate chizzle, knowin dat tha failure ta
do so would betray our lil pimps n' future generations. Some may still
deny tha overwhelmin judgment of science yo, but none can avoid tha
devastatin impact of ragin fires, n' cripplin drought, n' mo' bangin
storms. Da path towardz sustainable juice sources is ghon be long n'
sometimes difficult. But Tha Ghetto cannot resist dis transition; our
crazy-ass asses must lead dat shit. Our thugged-out asses cannot cede
ta other nations tha technologizzle dat will juice freshly smoked up
thangs n' freshly smoked up industries our crazy-ass asses must claim
its promise. That is how tha fuck our crazy-ass asses will maintain
our economic vitalitizzle n' our nationistic treasure our forests n'
waterways; our croplandz n' snowcapped peaks. That is how tha fuck our
crazy-ass asses will preserve our hood, commanded ta our care by Dogg.
Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! That’s what tha fuck will lend meanin
ta tha creed our fathers once declared.
We, tha gangstas, still believe dat endurin securitizzle n' lastin
peace do not require perpetual war. Our brave pimps n' dem hoes up in
uniform, tempered by tha flamez of battle, is unmatched up in skill n'
courage. Our playa haters, seared by tha memory of em our crazy-ass
asses have lost, know too well tha price dat is paid fo' liberty. Da
knowledge of they sacrifice will keep our asses forever vigilant against
em whoz ass would do our asses harm. But our crazy-ass asses is also
heirs ta em whoz ass won tha peace n' not just tha war, whoz ass turned
sworn enemies tha fuck into tha surest of playas, n' our crazy-ass asses
must carry em lessons tha fuck into dis time as well.
Our thugged-out asses will defend our gangstas n' uphold our values
all up in strength of arms n' rule of law. Our thugged-out asses will
sheezy tha courage ta try n' resolve our differences wit other nations
peacefully not cuz our crazy-ass asses is naïve bout tha dangers our
crazy-ass asses grill yo, but cuz engagement can mo' durably lift
suspicion n' fear. Tha Ghetto will remain tha anchor of phat alliizzlez
up in every last muthafuckin corner of tha globe; n' our crazy-ass
asses will renew em institutions dat extend our capacitizzle ta manage
crisis abroad, fo' no one has a pimped outer stake up in a peaceful
ghetto than its most bangin nation. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy
biatch. Our thugged-out asses will support democracy from Asia ta
Africa; from tha Americas ta tha Middle Eastside, cuz our interests n'
our conscience compel our asses ta act on behalf of em whoz ass long fo'
freedom. And our crazy-ass asses must be a source of hope ta tha poor,
tha sick, tha marginalized, tha suckaz of prejudice not outta mere
charitizzle yo, but cuz peace up in our time requires tha constant
advizzle of em principlez dat our common creed raps about: tolerizzle
n' opportunity; human dignitizzle n' justice.
We, tha gangstas, declare todizzle dat da most thugged-out evident of
truths dat all of our asses is pimped equal is tha star dat
guides our asses still; just as it guided our forebears all up in Seneca
Falls, n' Selma, n' Stonewall; just as it guided all em pimps n' women,
sung n' unsung, whoz ass left footprints along dis pimped out Mall, ta
hear a preacher say dat our crazy-ass asses cannot strutt alone; ta hear
a Mack proclaim dat our individual freedom is inextricably bound ta tha
freedom of every last muthafuckin ass on Earth.
It be now our generation’s task ta carry on what tha fuck em pioneers
fuckin started. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. For our
journey aint complete until our wives, our muthas, n' daughtas cangit a
livin equal ta they efforts. Our journey aint complete until our gay
bruthas n' sistas is treated like every last muthafuckin muthafucka else
under tha law fo' if our crazy-ass asses is truly pimped equal, then
surely tha ludd our crazy-ass asses commit ta one another must be equal
as well. Our journey aint complete until no playa hater is forced ta
wait fo' hours ta exercise tha muthafuckin right ta vote. Our journey
aint complete until our crazy-ass asses find a funky-ass mo' betta way
ta welcome tha striving, hopeful immigrants whoz ass still peep Tha
Ghetto as a land of opportunity; until bright lil' students n' engineers
is enlisted up in our workforce rather than expelled from our ghetto.
Our journey aint complete until all our children, from tha streetz of
Detroit ta tha hillz of Appalachia ta tha on tha down-low lanez of
Newtown, know dat they is cared for, n' cherished, n' always safe from
That is our generation’s task ta make these lyrics, these rights,
these values of Life, n' Liberty, n' tha Pursuit of Happinizz real
fo' every last muthafuckin American. I aint talkin' bout chicken n'
gravy biatch. Bein true ta our foundin documents do not require our
asses ta smoke on every last muthafuckin contour of life; it do not mean
our crazy-ass asses will all define liberty up in exactly tha same
stupid-ass way, and follow tha same stupid-ass precise path ta
happiness. Progress do not compel our asses ta settle centuries-long
debates bout tha role of posse fo' all time but it do require our
asses ta act up in our time.
For now decisions is upon us, n' our crazy-ass asses cannot afford
delay. Our thugged-out asses cannot mistake absolutizzle fo' principle,
and substitute spectacle fo' polistics, and treat name-callin as
reasoned debate. Our thugged-out asses must act, knowin dat our work is
ghon be imperfect. Our thugged-out asses must act, knowin dat
todizzle’s victories is ghon be only partial, n' dat it is ghon be up ta
em whoz ass stand here up in four years, n' forty years, n' four
hundred muthafuckin years hence ta advizzle tha timeless spirit once
conferred ta our asses up in a spare Philadelphia hall.
My fuckin fellow Americans, tha oath I have sworn before you
todizzle, like tha one recited by others whoz ass serve up in dis
Capitol, was a oath ta Dogg n' ghetto, not jam and faction n' our
crazy-ass asses must faithfully execute dat pledge durin tha duration of
our service. But tha lyrics I was rappin todizzle is not so different
from tha oath dat is taken each time a soldier signs up fo' duty, and a
immigrant realizes her dream. My fuckin oath aint so different from tha
pledge our crazy-ass asses all make ta tha flag dat waves above n' dat
fills our hearts wit pride.
They is tha lyricz of playa haters, n' they represent our top billin hope.
Yo ass n' I, as playa haters, have tha juice ta set dis ghetto’s course.
Yo ass n' I, as playa haters, have tha obligation ta shape tha
debatez of our time not only wit tha votes our crazy-ass asses cast
yo, but wit tha voices our crazy-ass asses lift up in defense of our
most ancient values n' endurin ideals.
Let each of our asses now embrace, wit solemn duty n' phat joy, what
tha fuck is our lastin birthright. With common effort n' common
purpose, wit boner n' dedication, let our asses answer tha call of
history, n' carry tha fuck into a uncertain future dat precious light of
Nuff props, Dogg Bless you, n' may Dude forever bless these United Hoodz of America.