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Painkillers

On behalf of Pan Am Airlines, we'd like to be the first

To welcome you to New York City

We'd like to thank you for flying Pan Am

The local time is 6:45 a.m. and the temperature is 89 degrees

I've been up all night on the redeye flight

The dawn's early light, got the skyline bright

I'm in the back of a car service

My driver's kind of nervous

'Cause I'm tokin' on a blunt that's fat

You say, you know where you at

I say, I know where I am

And if you really want a tip then mister 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 thirteen years old

And when I look up at my wall, I see platinum and gold

And there 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 L

Welcome back to the Five Seasons Mr. Ford

Your usual room is ready and waiting

Let me take your luggage

If you need anything while you're staying just let me know

Good lookin' out

That's for you, I hop out my car, step into the lobby

Everybody's on the floor, it's a motherfuckin' robbery

The shit's in progress, I can feel the stress

I wanna silently to God how did I get in this mess?

They tell me to freeze and get down on my knees

Between my jewels and my cash, I'm holdin' thirty five G's

They told me to run it, so I got bold and I fronted

And like Slick Rick said, “I knew, I shouldn't of done it”

'Cause now they standin' over me, watchin' me bleed

Damn, I got to quit smokin' all this weed

There's a pain in my chest but yo, I must be blessed

Because before I faded out, I saw the EMS

The paramedics, they greet me with some anesthetics

They killin' my pain, they screamin' my name

Tryin' to keep me in the conscious world

I'm thinkin' about my mom, my sister and my girl

I'm prayin' to God don't let this go too far

As they rush me into the St. Luke's O.R.

They pull the bullets out my chest and give 'em back in a jar

Now, I'm wearin' this scar 'cause I tried to play hard

Mr. Ford, I'm afraid, I have some bad news for you

What are you talkin' about?

It would appear that one of the bullets grazed your spine

And damaged the cord

So what are you tryin' to tell me?

Well, it's safe to say, I don't think, you'll be jumpin' around anymore

Yo, this can't happen to me, I just can't believe it

Trapped in a wheelchair, a paraplegic

There ain't no rehab, there ain't no therapy

For the rest of my life somebody's gotta take care of me

And people stare at me with pity in their eyes

And every mornin' I rise to a life of despise

And every night I think, I might never rock the mic again

'Cause my brain's fucked up on percacet and vicadin

Might as well be heroin pulsin' through my veins

Gotta kill 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 twenty somethin' years old

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