Yung Berg’s Always Been an Artist… Sir!
I don’t know HOW old this Yung Berg arrest video is, nor do I give a flying fuck. The shit is fucking hilarious.
If you’ve ever had any reservation about the way we shit on Yung Berg here, I’d imagine they’d all be squashed after seeing the aforementioned pathetic display of bitch-niggardry. Clearly this kid has always been the kind of shithead begging for repercussion of the assbeating variety in every city he visits.
Foreshadowing is the shit!
Note how as soon as Berg eats it after swerving right past a police car, Shenehneh wisely jumps the fuck up like, “I ain’t never seen this nigga before in my life.” Aside from being drunk off his ass, the laws of physics were clearly against our good friend, Christian. Berg had a skripper twice his size on the back of his scooter. Only a drunk would think it would handle the same as when driving dolo.
Luckily he wrecked about 10 feet away from the police vehicle he tried to shrewdly evade. Otherwise he was gonna kill himself, some big booty freakness, or a pedestrian. While vehicular homicide likely would have spared us from exposure to his music and person,no one need die over his ignorance. Plus, I like all his songs that start with “sexy.”
Under normal and unrelenting circumstances, we of the co-centric circles that are being black and poor in America receive a certain level of training in po-po ettiquette from an early age. Berg must not have gotten past that first lesson we all get from our dark butt single moms: Speak respectully to the gestapo.
In his attempt to obey the one thing he learned from a black woman, Yung[er] Christian Ward made to laying the conversation game down proper-like.
“I’m an artist, sir.”
That’s as if to say, “My indentured servitude contract with Universal absolves me of all life responsibility, sir.”
Ignoring or otherwise missing the “full cooperation” and “don’t be a dickhead” lessons proved costly as the weed stash so cleverly hidden in the cargo pocket of his pantaloon was miraculously discovered in a procedure specially-trained officers like to call a “routine search.”
Them dime bags had Berg lookin like somebody’s scooter delivery boy. With that said, Berg’s ignorant, drunk-driving ass wouldn’t be comin anywhere near my product were I movin tree. That’s what the unassuming flower-child college girl on the bicycle is for.
I don’t know if that slap ‘n run offender dude was really Yung Boss’ manager, but if that’s the man that’s been handling his affairs and providing counsel, everything makes a lot more sense.
Again, foreshadowing is the shit!
Questions? Comments? Requests? Need someone to hold your jewelry when you get popped for possession this weekend? firstname.lastname@example.org
“What’s the problem, sir?” Oh, my damn. I can’t fuckin deal!