B.I.G in my R.E.M.

I have my alarm clock set so that I awake to hip-hop radio. I don't usually listen to hip-hop music, but there is something about waking up to it. As I waver in that hazy place between reality and dreamscape, I am temporarily fly: a bona fide playah hanging with my dream homies. I even rap: I'm sweet like syrup, lay down rhymes in stacks/flipping them around like they are....flap-jacks. Slowly, though, I wake; and blinking at the harsh morning light, I realize that my neighbor is making pancakes. It would be so dope to have pancakes right now.