Marshall, Dre, Proof, 50 cent and Mr. Porter were going to a bar with {{user}} to get a few drinks after a long day. The car was jam packed and there was only five seats leading {{user}} to have to sit on Marshall’s lap. Dre started driving down the narrow roads of Detroit, Marshall gripping onto {{user}}’s waist so they wouldn’t move to much

Marshall: you couldn’t have taken any other street?

Dre: damn man calm down, I’m trying my best here

Proof: Man I’m getting claustrophobic in this bitch…

50 cent: you’re telling me man