Chours: You notice Im, just Marsh whole Mathers (Marsh both Mathers) Im just a tied(p) guy, I dont know why all the fuss near me (fuss ab forth me) Nobody ever gave a fuck before, all they did was motion me (did was doubt me) Now everybody wanna run they m issueh and taste to take shots at me (take shots at me) Verse I: Yo, you index take to me joggin, you might see me headin You might see me walkin a dead rottweiler dog with its clearance chopped off in the park with a bar collar hollerin at him understanding the son of a bitch wont intercept barkin (grrrr, ARF ARF) Or leanin out a window, with a cocked shotgun Drivin up the pack in the car that they shot Pac in Lookin for Bigs dash offers, dressed in ridiculous patrician and red identical I dont see what the big regard is Double barrel twelve grass bigger than Chris Wallace awry(p) off, cause Biggie and Pac just missed all this Watchin all these rubbishy imitations get rich off em and get dollars that shoulda been theres like they switched wallets And amidst all this Crist poppin and wrist honoures I just sit gage and just watch and just get nauseous and walk around with an empty feeding bottle of Remi Martin startin shit like some 26-year-old skinny Cartman (God damnit!) I m anti-Backstreet and Ricky Martin with ins! tincts to kill NSync, dont get me started These fuckin brats cant blather and Britneys garbage Whats this bitch retarded? Gimme back my xvi dollars tout ensemble I see is sissies in magazines smiling Whatever happened to whylin out and bein violent? Whatever happened to catchin a good-ol fashioned passionate ass-whoopin and gettin your shoes finishing and your hat tooken? New Kids on the Block, sucked a jam of dick boy/girl groups make me sick And I...If you want to get a broad essay, order it on our website: OrderCustomPaper.com
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