slabz

Gizoogled a part of the lore

thank you to whoever posted that Gizoogle picture it changed my life.

"Afta all dem millennia, tha hood had taken a truly different form. 

Da dragon whoz ass christened his dirty ass tha Earthshaker heaved slabz of stone tha fuck into mountains n’ valleys, moldin a gangbangin’ finger-lickin’ diverse landscape across tha surface. From beneath tha earthz crust, tha bein dat called itself tha Flamecalla burst forth n’ tested tha realm wit volcanic eruptions n’ streamz of molten fury. Da drake known as tha Tidelord summoned pimped out storms n’ floodz ta def dis invasion, lettin tha heat n’ moisture mingle ta form continents, oceans, n’ rivers fo’ realz. And from above, tha spindled form of tha one named tha Windsinger traced linez of air currents round tha globe, craftin cloudz as if paintin dem wit a cold-ass lil colossal brush. 

Though aiiight wit they combined efforts, tha First Four was not without they differin opinions on tha direction dis lil’ hood should take. 

"Da mountains should be taller, tha canyons pimped outer n’ shit. Our home should stand ironclad against tha dangerz of tha heavens, protected against cosmic bombardment," shouted tha Earthshaker. 

"Our home should be turned inside-out, n’ lava should churn violently across its surface. Through me, it could rival tha Sun itself up in brightnizz n’ juice," was rappin tha Flamecaller. 

"With mo’ water, tha ghetto would shine like a funky-ass blue pearl, unlike all kindsa muthafuckin up in tha Heavens. Well shiiiit, it could stand ridin’ solo up in beauty n’ tranquility," murmured tha Tidelord. 

"Da air should be filled wit a thousand beatboxin vortexes, rappin a cold lil’ woo wop dat tha Heavens aint NEVER gonna forget," spouted tha Windsinger. 

Concerned only wit they own campaigns, tha First Four bickered n’ quarreled over tha hood, until bitta conjecture turned ta combat. 

Wata n’ Air warred firstly, stirrin up roiling, violent storms. Da cataclysmic juice pimped by they relentless attacks made tha cloudz theyselves swell wit anger n’ shit. Dat shiznit was not long until tha charged mass expelled a horrendous cascade of electric tempests, as well as a gangbangin’ frustrated drake-shaped anomaly. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Stunned by tha event, tha Tidelord n’ Windsinger abated, unaware of how tha fuck ta handle dis freshly smoked up threat. 

On tha other side of tha ghetto, Ghetto n’ Fire smashed tha landscape ta pieces. Each fucked up mountain or fractured plain only riled tha Earthshaker tha fuck into deeper rage. With one pimped out heave of his wild lil’ front leg, tha entire hood wobbled up in its orbit, n’ ta dis dizzle has remained at a irregular tilt. Emboldened by tha sudden disorientation, tha Flamecalla beckoned nuff muthafuckin magma vents tha fuck into existence, shatterin tha crust n’ spewin voluminous smoke billows tha fuck into tha atmosphere, so peek-a-boo, clear tha way, I be comin’ thru fo’sho. This brash action blotted up tha sun, plungin tha southern hemisphere tha fuck into a impenetrable darkness, causin a cold-ass lil chill dat tha ghetto had never experienced. Y’all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! Unbeknownst ta tha combatants, a isolated island on tha bottom of tha ghetto fuckin started ta freeze over, frigid ice sheets expandin they size at a rapid pace.”