Wednesday, February 08, 2006
Floats Like A Butterfly, Stings Like A Bee
God, I loved you.
I saw you once. I went to a party. I actually ditched my own mother on Mother's Day to go to this party, just because I knew you would probably be there.
And there you were, standing in front of me, signing autographs for a bunch of young boys. I stopped and nearly fainted. I grabbed my friend's hand and said:
"Oh, my God. He's here."
"Where? Oh, shit, Jaimie."
We walked around you to take our seat at the table, but you never looked up. You were too busy being a nice guy to those kids.
During the event, while sitting at my table, I attempted to send you telepathic urges to look at me, the girl with the curly hair and tight black pants, sitting up to the left at the round table. But you never did. Probably all of the other ladies' telepathic messages were getting in the way of my own.
I mean, all of the ladies loved you. You were beautiful. You were talented. You were intelligent. You were so young.
When my girlfriend called me and said,
"Did you hear?"
"Your boy's dead."
I could do nothing but drop the phone. I was in shock. We all were.
In my opinion, you were the greatest rapper of all time.
In my opinion...
You were the best.
Who Was/Is the Greatest Rapper of All Time?
Posted by Jaimie ::
6:30 PM ::
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