He killed this shit....especially the first verse
You might see me joggin', you might see me walkin'
You might see me walking a dead Rottweiler dog
With its head chopped off in the park with a spiked collar
Hollering at him ‘cause the son of a bitch won't quit barkin'
Or leaning out a window with a cocked shotgun
Driving up the block in the car that they shot Pac in
Looking for Big's killers, dressing ridiculous
Blue and red, like I don't see what the big deal is
Double barrel 12-gauge bigger than Chris Wallace
Pissed off ‘cause Biggie and Pac just missed all this
Watching all these cheap imitations get rich off 'em
And get dollars that should've been theirs
Like they switched wallets
And amidst all this Crist' popping and wrist watches
I just sit back and just watch and just get nauseous
And walk around with an empty bottle of Remy Martin
Starting shit like some 26-year-old skinny Cartman
An anti-Backstreet and Ricky Martin
Whose instinct's to kill N'Sync, don't get me started
These fucking brats can't sing and Britney's garbage
What is this bitch, retarded? Give me back my sixteen dollars
All I see is sissies in magazines smilin'
Whatever happened to wiling out and being violent?
Whatever happened to catching a good old-fashioned passionate ass-whoopin'
And getting your shoes coat and your hat tooken