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My 8th Grade with Big Pun

You wanna know how to get me back to 8th grade?

Put on Big Pun.

Yup, that's right.

The easiest way to turn me into a 13-year-old boy, jumping around in my car like I just found out I won the lottery is to put on "Still Not a Player."

For some reason, as soon as I hear the beginning of that song, with the little "ahh ahh ohhh" into the "I don't wanna be a player no more" suddenly I'm back at church feast near my house eating fried dough, running into people from my class, being shocked that they actually existed outside of school, and riding the smallest ferris wheel known to man.

Funnily enough though, I never bothered to learn the lyrics to the song.

Maybe it's because you never really needed to know more than the two opening lines--"Hey yo I'm still not a player but you still a hater/Elevator to the top hah, see you later." By that time, everybody was too busy doing that lame side-to-side dance that white people should never EVER do.

Then last week I found myself in the car listening to the song--again, gyrating like a fool behind the steering wheel--and I realized that I would like to sing along with one of my favorite childhood songs past the first thirty seconds in addition to the chorus.

So I googled the lyrics.

Holy s**t.

I knew Big Pun was no Marie Osmond, but unfortunately, I'm not sure I could speak the words "you couldn't measure my d**k with six rulers" without feeling stupid--and also, let's face it, dishonest.

Not to mention that Big Pun (may he rest in peace) has a thing for putting his thirty-foot plus genitalia in places that I have never had the joy of experiencing.

Part of me is amazed to think that people my age are now posting on Facebook about the music kids younger than us listen to. Sorry to break it to you Tippers, but my childhood is pretty much defined by a song that features the lyric--"Once I put the blows, get your clothes, cause you got to go" and I still turned out fine...

...For the most part.

I guess for now I'll just stick to the chorus, although at least now I'm brave enough to say "I'm not a player I just f**k a lot" without skipping over the magic word while I do my white-guy-side-to-side.

If only because the guy in the car next to me usually gets a big kick out of it.

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