As the inventor of West Coast rap and unofficial spokesman for Hip Hop Nation, I have been heavily involved in high-level negotiations with President-electishizzle Obama's people. We have come to terms on an agreement of historic proportions.

Here's the deal. All rappers, hip hop DJs, pit bull owners, drug dealers, et ceterashizzle, if you're going to the District on Inauguration Day--pull up your god damn pants. Barack don't want to be embarrassed by you and your Beyonce or Playboy underwear showin'!

Also, no chains, no price tags hangin' off yo brand-new baseball caps. Cover up your neck tats. We gonna try to look respectable--for the day.

In exchange, we're gettin' a package of various considerationizzles:

Air Force One's gonna get pimped out, like in "Soul Plane".

Second, the next poet laureate's gonna be me. Unless somebody kills me first. I'll name my successor in my will. The lesbians had their turn.

Last--Obama's gonna get his girls a pit bull. America don't want no sissy dog in the White House, what with terrorists and all.