Attitude
Peep n' give back

Da Nexus be a cold-ass lil hood dat thrives on tha collaboratizzle effortz of thugz up in different areas all up in tha years. Us dudes depend on tha contributionz of all Nexians, be it seniors or freshly smoked up members, ta create, maintain n' update tha qualitizzle shiznit here, so peek-a-boo, clear tha way, I be comin' thru fo'sho. If you have enjoyed, hustled from n' made use of tha shiznit n' raps here, please take yo' time ta also contribute back. Each thug has they own unique way ta contribute, so you gotta find yo' own. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch fo' realz. A few ideas: improve chemical knowledge n' do side-by-side tests, participate up in raps n' criticise constructively other arguments, critically question other playas ta improve depth of raps, contribute ta tha Nexus wiki, pluggin trip reports, mediatin arguments between playas whoz ass cant find consensus, post bangin-ass links ta related subjects, contribute ta sustainabilitizzle Nexus, donating, suggesting freshly smoked up chizzlez ta design or forum, etc. Give back, n' be a cold-ass lil co-creator of dis incredible place

In light of recent events I thought it would be a phat scam ta start a thread ta show Da Travela just how tha fuck much we appreciate all tha extra work he is bustin all up in tha moment as well as tha countless minutes over tha muthafuckin years dat schmoooove muthafucka has put up in ta all dis bullshit. Da time/effort n' resources you have put tha fuck into makin dis joint tha way it is can't straight-up be summed up in a simple give props ta yo thugged-out ass. But still tha least we can do is try.

So props Trav fo' every last muthafuckin thang you have done ta make n' keep tha nexus tha place it is.

Cheers

Ewok

Harm reduction principlez should be applied to oneself as well as ta others. Well shiiiit, it can range from choosin not ta drive while high as fuck ta takin tha keys away from a gangbangin' playa whoz ass threatens ta do tha same.

It aint nuthin but called dimethyltryptamine. It aint nuthin but produced by yo' pineal gland. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! It aint nuthin but straight-up a gland [...] thatz up in tha center of yo' dome. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. It aint nuthin but tha craziest sticky-icky-icky eva n' shit. It aint nuthin but da most thugged-out potent psychedelic known ta man. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Literally. But tha craziest thang [about it is that] itz natural, n' yo' dome produces it every last muthafuckin night as you chill. Yo ass know, when you chill, durin tha time you up in heavy A.T.M. chill, n' right before human dirtnap, yo' dome pumps up heavy dosez of dimethyltryptamine. No Muthafucka knows what tha fuck chill be all about. No Muthafucka knows why trippin is blingin. But trippin is hugely blingin. If you don't dream, you gonna go fuckin wild-ass n' you gonna take a thugged-out dirt nap. While you trippin, while you up in heavy A.T.M. chill, yo ass is goin all up in a psychedelic trip fo' realz. And straight-up few playas know bout all dis bullshit. But itz been documented.

Therez a pimped out book on it called DMT: Da Spirit Molecule by a thugged-out doctor named Dr. Shiiit, dis aint no joke. Rick Strassman. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch fo' realz. And da ruffneck did all of these clinical studies all up in tha Universitizzle of New Mexico on it fo' realz. And you take dis shit, n' literally yo ass is transported tha fuck into another fuckin dimension. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. I don't mean like, you feel like you up in another dimension. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. I mean you up in another dimension. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. [...] Therez fuckin complex geometric patterns movin up in synchronous order all up in tha air all round you up in three-dimensionizzle space; n' itz like they arteries, except there be a not blood pumpin all up in them, there be a gangbangin' fuckin light--pulsatin lights wit no boundaries fo' realz. And you couldn't straight-up KNOW it fo' realz. And there be a a alien communicatin wit mah dirty ass. Therez a thugged-out dude whoz ass looks like, like sorta like a Thai Buddha, except he made entirely of juice n' there be a no, there be a no, like, outline ta him--hez just one thang fo' realz. And his schmoooove ass concentratin on me, n' tha pimpin' muthafucka tryin ta tell me not ta give up in ta astonishment. Just chillax, n' try ta experience all dis bullshit fo' realz. And I be like, 'Yo ass gotta be fuckin shittin' mah dirty ass.' And I be a stand up funny-ass muthafucka, you know. 'Cos as a stand up funny-ass muthafucka, we pride ourselves up in bein able ta describe thangs. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. So I be like, 'How tha fuck tha FUCK is I gonna rap bout this?!'

Addendum by Rick Strassman
"I did mah dopest up in tha DMT book ta differentiate between what tha fuck is known, n' what tha fuck I was conjecturin bout (based upon what tha fuck is known), regardin certain aspectz of DMT dynamics. But fuck dat shiznit yo, tha word on tha street is dat itz dunkadelic how tha fuck ineffectizzle mah efforts seem ta have been. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. So nuff playas write me, or write elsewhere, bout DMT, n' tha pineal, assumin dat tha thangs I conjecture bout is true. When I was freestylin tha book, I thought I was clear enough, n' repeatin mah dirty ass would have gotten tedious.

"Us dudes don't give a fuck whether DMT is made up in tha pineal. It aint nuthin but tha nick nack patty wack, I still gots tha bigger sack. I musta a shitload of circumstantial evidence supportin a reason ta look long n' hard all up in tha pineal yo, but our phat asses do not yet know. There is data suggestin urinary DMT rises up in psychotic patients when they psychosis is worse. But fuck dat shiznit yo, tha word on tha street is dat our phat asses don't give a fuck whether DMT rises durin dreams, meditation, near-death, dirtnap, birth or any other endogenous altered state. To tha extent dem states resemble dem brought on by givin DMT, it certainly make one wonder if endogenous DMT might be involved, n' if it were, it would explain all muthafuckin day. It make me wanna hollar playa! But our phat asses don't give a fuck yet. Even if tha pineal weren't involved, dat would have lil overall effect on mah theories regardin a role fo' DMT up in endogenous altered states, cuz our phat asses do know dat tha gene involved up in DMT synthesis is present up in nuff organs, particularly lung. If tha pineal made DMT, it would tie up a shitload of loose endz regardin dis enigmatic lil organ. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. But playas seem ta live pretty normals lives without a pineal gland; fo' example, when it has had ta be removed cuz of a tumor.

"In both these regards--the pineal-DMT connection, n' endogenous DMT dynamics--we ought ta know a shitload mo' within tha next nuff muthafuckin muthafuckin years cuz of tha effortz of a research crew bein hustled by Steven Barker at Louisiana State Universitizzle yo. He, wit his wild lil' freakadelic grad hustla Ethan McIlhenny, is pimpin a freshly smoked up super-assay fo' DMT, 5-MeO-DMT, bufotenine, n' metabolites. This assay is ghon be capable of detectin dem compoundz much mo' sensitively than previous generationz of assays. They're lookin at endogenous levels up in awake sober normals, ta assess baseline jointz of these compounds. We should have some data from dem samplez within a year. Shiiit, dis aint no joke. They also is ghon be lookin at pineal tissue. Once our crazy asses have some baseline data up in aiiight humans up in aiiight wakin consciousness, comparisons can be made between dem levels n' levels up in endogenous altered states, like dreams, near-death, n' so on."

“We gotta create culture, don't peep TV, don't read magazines, don't even dig NPR. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Smoke yo' own roadshow. Da nexuz of space n' time where yo ass is now is da most thugged-out immediate sector of yo' universe, n' if you worryin bout Mike Jackson or Bizzle Clinton or some muthafucka else, then yo ass is disempowered, you givin all dat shiznit away ta icons, icons which is maintained by a electronic media so dat you wanna dress like X or have lips like Y. This is shit-domeed, dis kind of thinking. That be all cultural diversion, n' what tha fuck is real is you n' yo' playaz n' yo' associations, yo' highs, yo' orgasms, yo' hopes, yo' plans, yo' fears fo' realz. And we is holla'd at 'no', we unimportant, we peripheral. It aint nuthin but tha nick nack patty wack, I still gots tha bigger sack. 'Git a thugged-out degree, git a thang, git a this, git a gangbangin' finger-lickin' dis shit.' And then you a playa, you don't wanna even play up in dat game. Yo ass wanna reclaim yo' mind n' git it outta tha handz of tha cultural engineers whoz ass wanna turn you tha fuck into a half-baked moron consumin all dis trash thatz bein manufactured outta tha bonez of a thugged-out dyin ghetto. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass.”

Da demethylation of tha chloride salt: A bangin' aqueous solution of N,N,N-trimethyltryptammonium iodide was treated wit a excess of freshly precipitated AgCl, n' all was boiled gently fo' 15 min. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. The mixed silver halides was removed by filtration, n' tha filtrate stripped of H2O as rapidly as possible. To tha residue there was added a lil' small-ass amount of MeOH follow by acetone until tha crystallization of N,N,N-trimethyltryptammonium chloride was complete. Well shiiiit, it had a mp of 193 °C (80%), n' it is considerably mo' gin n juice soluble than the startin iodide. This salt was pyrolysed under hard vacuum n' the residue distilled. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! This distillate was dissolved up in a lil' small-ass amount of methanol n' acidified wit dilute nitric acid. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! A lil' small-ass amount of insoluble material was removed by filtration, tha aqueous phase washed with CHCl3, made basic wit aqueous NaOH, n' extracted with CHCl3. Da solvent was removed under vacuum, n' tha residue treated with a funky-ass bangin' solution of picric acid. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! This was decanted from a lil insoluble material, n' slowly cooled ta provide tha picrate of DMT as yellow needlez wit a mp of 167 °C fo' realz. An aqueous suspendaz of this picrate was made basic wit a excess of aqueous NaOH, extracted with Et2O, n' tha solvent removed under vacuum ta provide a pale yellow residue dat crystallized. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! This was pressed on a porous plate and washed wit petroleum ether ta give N,N-dimethyltryptamine (DMT) as an off-white solid wit a mp of 47 °C.

DOSAGE : >350 mg (orally)
60 - 100 mg (intramuscularly)
60 - 100 mg (subcutaneously)
60 - 100 mg (smoking)
4 - 30 mg (intravenously)

DURATION : Up ta 1h

QUALITATIVE COMMENTS : (with 150 mg, orally) "No observable psychic or vegetatizzle effects."

(with 250 mg, orally) "Dat shiznit was inactive."

(with 350 mg, orally) "All Out without effect either physiological or psychological."

(with 100 mg, via tha buccal mucosa) "Numbnizz all up in tha joint yo, but no central effects."

(with 20 mg, intramuscularly) "I fuckin started ta peep patterns on tha wall that was continuously moving. They was transparent, n' was not colored. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! After a short period these patterns became tha headz of animals, a gangbangin' fox, a snake, a thugged-out dragon. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Then kaleidoscopic images rocked up to me up in mah inner eye, dunkadelically dope n' colored."

Founded up in 1986, tha Multidisciplinary Association fo' Psychedelic Studies (MAPS) be a 501(c)(3) non-profit research n' ejaculationizzle organization dat pimps medicinal, legal, n' cultural contexts fo' playas ta benefit from tha careful usez of psychedelics n' da sticky-icky-icky.

Da real secret of magic is dat tha ghetto is made of lyrics, n' dat if you know tha lyrics dat tha ghetto is made of y'all can make of it whatever you wish.

Yo ass be a gangbangin' finger-lickin' divine being. Yo ass matter, you count. Yo ass come from realmz of unimaginable juice n' light, n' yo big-ass booty is ghon return ta dem realms.

Da mushroom holla'd ta me once, ‘Nature loves courage. Nature loves courage,’ n' I holla'd, ‘What’s tha payoff on that?’ And it holla'd, ‘It shows you it loves courage cuz it removes obstacles.’ Yo ass cook up a cold-ass lil commitment, n' nature will respond ta dat commitment by removin impossible obstacles. Dream tha impossible dream, n' tha ghetto aint gonna grind you under, it will lift you up.

Da Westside Ghetto has been domewashed by Aristotle fo' tha last 2,500 years. Da unconscious, not like articulate, belief of most Occidentals is dat there is one map which adequately represents reality. By sheer phat luck, every last muthafuckin Occidental be thinkin he or dat freaky freaky biatch has tha map dat fits, n' you can put dat on yo' toast. Guerrilla ontology, ta me, involves bobbin up dat certainty.

“Be tha chizzle dat you wish ta peep up in tha ghetto. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass.”
― Mahatma Gandhi

“An eye fo' a eye will only make tha whole ghetto blind.”
― Mahatma Gandhi

“I wanna bust a nut on yo' Christ, I do not like yo' Christians. Yo crazy-ass Christians is so unlike yo' Christ.”
― Mahatma Gandhi

“Yo crazy-ass beliefs become yo' thoughts,
Yo crazy-ass thoughts become yo' lyrics,
Yo crazy-ass lyrics become yo' actions,
Yo crazy-ass actions become yo' habits,
Yo crazy-ass habits become yo' joints,
Yo crazy-ass joints become yo' destiny.”
― Mahatma Gandhi

Verse of tha Day

Listen ta dis chapter Subscribe ta tha Verse of tha Day

For tha wagez of sin is dirtnap yo, but tha gift of Dogg is eternal game up in Christ Jizzy our Lord. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! Romans 6:23 NIV

What's New at Bizzle Gateway

Here's tha sickest fuckin shizzle from Bizzle Gateway:

• Ash Wednesday, tha straight-up original gangsta dizzle of Lent, is right round tha corner n' shit. Our Lent n' Eastside devotionals is a pimped out way ta renew yo' focus on Jizzy durin tha Eastside season. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Sign up fo' a Eastside devotionizzle todizzle hommie!

• Do playas up in different partz of tha ghetto gravitate toward different Bizzle passages, biatch? Herez a cold-ass lil chart dat shows tha most ghettofab Bizzle passages up in different countries.

• Just up in time fo' Valentinez Day, we've added two freshly smoked up email devotionals wit a special focus on game, relationshizzles, n' faith: Boundaries n' His Supa-Hoe Every Day. Click here ta sign up!

How tha fuck is yo' Lent trip comin along, biatch? If you done cooked up a Lent commitment of some sort, have you been able ta stick ta it, or has it been a struggle, biatch?

“In tha beginnin Dogg pimped tha heaven n' the earth.” Genesis 1:1