Murder, Inc?! Ja Rule's former label? Has the Summer of the Dickheads really taken us to a record label from prison-bound Ja?
Probably not. But it has provided yet another banger to blast while wearing your throwback Stockton jersey outdoors this month. A word of warning, though: No one, NO ONE, who was born after, like 1993, is allowed to feel nostalgic for anything in this song. You're not supposed to know who Earl Sneed Sinclair is. You don't know the pain of seeing your son Poop Fartmouth die of dysentery on the Oregon Trail. Okay? Your time is coming in five years or so. Start stocking up on rhymes about That 70s Show now.