I don't know how many times I'm walkin down tha street when I come across some pale-skinned, tired-looking, low-blood-sugar-having sorry-ass son of a biatch who was just "in too much of a rush" to have himself a proper breakfast. I just want to grab these feet-draggin motherfuckas by the goddamn hair on they head, rough em up real good, then look they ass square in tha eye and ask "Fool! How much time outta yo life does it take to make some motherfuckin TOAST?"