[They managed to get through at least half the song before TJ couldn't keep it together (When I'm a-talkin' I strut my tough I don't even. Know. Guyyy. was his undoing). He clapped Yosuke on the back, coughing a little on the smoke he'd just inhaled.]

Bravo, you beautiful bastard. [He took another drag, chasing the burn of the last one.] Now you are a guy who needs to write a song of his own. That was some funky-ass wordsmithery I just experienced.