RU: 0-9 А Б В Г Д Е Ж З И К Л М Н О П Р С Т У Ф Х Ц Ч Ш Щ Э Ю Я
EN: A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z
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(Plane landing)
I`ve been up all night On the red-eye flight The dawn`s early light Got the skyline bright I`m in the back of a car service My driver`s kinda nervous `cause I`m toking on a blunt that`s fat He`s say "You know where you at?" I say "I know where I am, and if you really want a tip than mista don`t get flam I ain`t tryin to be rude and I ain`t stressin you gramps but this shit right here it be the breakfast of champs." I`ve been tokin on this since 13 years old And when I look up at my wall I see platinum and gold And ain`t nobody sneezin at the money I fold And I ain`t here for your pleasin so put that shit on hold Just keep your mouth shut And get me to the hotel And turn the radio up While I finish this ell (doorman greeting Mr. Ford) I hop out my car Step into the lobby Everybody`s on the floor It`s a motherfucking robbery The shit`s in progress I can feel the stress I wondered silently to God how I get in this mess? They told me to freeze And get down on my knees Between my jewels and my cash I`m holdin 35g`s They told me to run it So i got bold and I fronted And like Slick Rick said "I know I shouldn`t a done it." Cause now they standin over me, watching me bleed Damn I gotta quit smoking all this weed There`s a pain in my chest But yo I must be blessed Cause before I faded out I saw EMS The paramedics They greet me with some anasthetics They killing my pain They screamin my name Trying to keep me in the conscience world I`m thinking bout my mom my sister and my girl I`m prayin to God don`t let this go too far As they rushed me into the ST. Luke`s O.R. They pulled the bullets out my chest and give `em back in a jar Now I`m wearin this scar Cause I tried to play hard (doctor talking to Mr. Ford) Yo this can`t happen to me I just can`t believe it Trapped in a wheelchair A Parapalegic There ain`t no rehab There ain`t no therapy For the rest of my life Someone`s gotta take care of me And people stare at me with pity in they eyes And every morning I rise To a life of despise And everynight I think I might never rock the mike again Cause my brain`s fucked up on Percocet and Vikaden Might as well be heroin pulsing through my veins Gotta cure these pains Or blow out my brains To free me from these chains I`m trapped in this physical hell To walk again I just might sell my soul And I`m only 20-something years old
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