Текст, перевод и аккорды “Painkillers”
- (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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