Monday, January 21, 2013

The New Journalism Presents the Transcript of President Obama's Inaugural Address

 (As always, thanks to 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 Happiness.”

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 play.

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 out.

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 harm.

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 freedom.

Nuff props, Dogg Bless you, n' may Dude forever bless these United Hoodz of America.


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