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Tech N9ne: It was a Sunday night around 8:30 P.M. I was rolling by myself in the Benz leaving Swope Park banging some of the homie Fat Tone’s classic shit. So I’m rolling down Meyer Blvd. then I busted a right on Prospect looking to be seen by a bad bitch, and what do you know? A stallion. Ass like *explosion* Chest like *bullets flying, „Ooh, Areolas!”* Lips like *smooch* Dwamn! So I pulled right next to her on the corner of 63rd Street ’bout to front like I’m ’bout to sell her my CD and said:

T: What’s sizzlin’ mama, what’s crackin’?

„Cuz”: Whassup cuz

T: Ahem, nah, I’m just trying to sell you this CD. Nah, you know what, you so fine, I don’t even wanna sell you the CD. I’mm give you the CD, baby

C: Aw yeah, cuz? (Ugh) What’s this shit, cuz?

T: It’s my new shit, baby

C: This some Tech N9ne shit cuz?

T: Y-yeah?

C: Aw nah, I don’t want this devil worshiper shit cuz, I’m good cuz

T: Anyway nigga, I’m just tryna give you the goddamn CD. Y’know what?

C: Nah cuz, nah. Nah

T: Listen, listen, look. Hold on, let’s — let’s walk over here to my trunk, I got some new shit. Come on, come on, come on over here. I got some other artists you might — you might like some Big Scoob shit or something. Come on, come on, come on, come on. Check this out

C: Let me check this shit out cuz

T: Let me pop this trunk

C: What’chu got cuz?

T: Get yo’ motherfucking ass in the fuckin’–

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