Painkillers

(album: Whitey Ford Sings The Blues - 1998)

[Flight Attendant:] 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 AM and the temperature is 89°...

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 toking 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 Mr. don't get flam
I ain't trying to be rude
And I ain't stressing you gramps
But this shit right here
It be the breakfast of champs
I've been toking on this since thirteen years old
And when I look up at my wall I see platinum and gold
And there ain't nobody sneezing at the money I fold
And I ain't here for your pleasing
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...

[Bell Boy:] 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.
[Everlast:] Good looking out...That's for you.

I hop out my car
Step into the lobby
Everybody's on the floor (get down)
It's a motherfucking robbery
The shit's in progress
I can feel the stress
I wanna silenty to God how I get in this mess
They tell me to freeze and get down on my knees
Between my jewels and my cash
I'm holding thirty five G's
They told me to run it
So I got bold and I front it
And like Slick Rick said
I know I shouldn't have done it
'Cause now they standing over me
Watching me bleed
Damn, I got to quit smoking 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 killing my pain
They screaming my name
Trying to keep me in the conscious world
I'm thinking about my mom
My sister and my girl
I'm praying 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 wearing this scar
'Cause I tried to play hard

[Doctor:] Mr. Ford, I'm afraid I have some bad news for you.
[Everlast:] What are you talking about?
[Doctor:] It would appear that one of the bullets grazed your spine and damaged the cord.
[Everlast:] So what are you trying to tell me?
[Doctor:] Well, it's safe to say I don't think you'll be jumping 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 morning I rise to a life of despise
And ever 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 pulsing 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 something years old (years old)