How Ya Like Me Now...

It was another cold, winter night in New England. Dad was fast asleep, and I was dreamin' of raw hide. Then, from the sky, drops this drunk who lands outside of our apartment window. He starts yelling and singing. Then drops another drunk. Then another. Before you know it, there's a quartet. They're singing Spanish tunes and stumbling around. I go to the window and tell them to shut up, a dog is trying to sleep. Nothing. I yell again. Still, nothing. So I keep yelling and Dad gets up and tells me to shut up! 'Just ignore them,' he says. So I yell at him: look, I'm a dog. I hear stuff you can't and this shit is bothering me. Dad then puts a pillow of his head. They finally leave, but I'm mad. Later that night, I have this dream that I went down there and mowed them down in a tracker. That's right. A tracker. I picture their out-of-tune asses running from me, begging for me to stop. 'We're sorry, Tupac. We're sorry!' they say. I just keep driving, with my tongue out. It was great. I woke up laughing and in a good mood.

Now brothers are riding me
Like a pony
I'm no phony
I'm the only real micaroni...