| "Chad Butler, known as Pimp C, died in a Los Angeles hotel room..."
|
| "The L.A. County Coroner's office ruled the rapper's death accidental and attributed it to a combination of..."
|
| "Apnea?"
|
| "Yes"
|
| "And syrup, and we know that syrup on the streets usually has codeine?"
|
| "Absolutely, we have a problem now with the cough syrup epidemic..."
|
|
|
| He rolled up, asked him what he was sippin' on
|
| He said, "Lean, you wanna hit it, dawg?"
|
| That's the same stuff Weezy's sippin', huh?
|
| And tons of other rappers that be spittin' hard
|
| Yup, he had five up on
|
| Then went and passed him that Styrofoam
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| The Easter Pink, heard a rhyme before
|
| Finally got to see what all the hype was on
|
| And then he took a sip, sittin' in the Lincoln
|
| Thinking he was pimpin' as he listened to the system
|
| Little did he know that it was just as addictive as base
|
| Not the kind of hit from the kick drum
|
| Hotbox, let the bass bump
|
| Take it to the face, gulp
|
| Months later the use went up
|
| Every blunt was accompanied by the pink stuff
|
| But goddamn, he loved that feeling
|
| Purple rain coated in the throat, just so healin'
|
| Medicine alleviate the sickness
|
| Liquid affix and it comes with a cost
|
| Wake up, cold sweat, scratchin', itchin'
|
| Tryna escape the skin that barely fit him
|
| Gone, get another bottle just to get a couple swallows
|
| Headed towards the bottom couldn't get off it
|
| Didn't even think he had a problem
|
| Though he couldn't sleep without gettin' nauseous
|
| Room spinnin'
|
| Thinkin' he might have sipped just a little bit too much of that cough syrup
|
| His eyelids closed, shut
|
| Sat back in the chair clutchin' that cup
|
| Girlfriend came and a couple hours later
|
| Said his name, shook him but he never got up
|
| He never got up, he never got up
|
| We live on the cusp of death thinkin' that it won't be us
|
| It won't be us, it won't be us, it won't be us
|
| Nah, it won't be us
|
|
|
| Now he just wanted to act like them
|
| He just wanted to rap like him
|
| Us as rappers underestimate the power and the effects that we have on these kids
|
| Blunt passed, ash in a tin
|
| Pack being pushed, harassed by the feds
|
| The fact of it is most people that rap like this
|
| Talkin' about some shit they haven't lived
|
| Surprise, you know the drill
|
| Trapped in a box, declinin' record sales
|
| Follow the formula: violence, drugs, and sex sells
|
| So we try to sound like someone else
|
| This is not Californication
|
| There's no way to glorify this pavement
|
| Syrup, Percocet, and an eighth a day
|
| Will leave you broke, depressed, and emotionally vacant
|
| Despite how Little Wayne lives
|
| It's not conducive to being creative
|
| And I know 'cause he's my favorite
|
| And I know 'cause I was off that same mix
|
| Rationalize the shit that I'd try after I listen to Dedication
|
| But he's an alien
|
| I'd sip that shit, pass out or play PlayStation
|
| Months later I'm in the same place
|
| No music made, feelin' like a failure
|
| And trust me, it's not dope to be twenty-five
|
| And move back to your parents' basement
|
| I've seen my people's dreams die
|
| I've seen what they can be denied
|
| And "weed's not a drug," that's denial
|
| Groundhog Day, life, repeat each time
|
| I've seen Oxycontin take three lives
|
| I grew up with them, we used to chief dimes
|
| I've seen cocaine bring out the demons inside
|
| Cheatin' and lyin'
|
| Friendship cease, no peace in the mind
|
| Stealin' and takin' anything to fix the pieces inside
|
| Broken, hopeless, headed nowhere
|
| Only motivation for what the dealer's supplyin'
|
| That rush, that drug, that dope
|
| Those pills, that crumb, that roach
|
| Thinkin' I would never do that, not that drug
|
| Growing up nobody ever does
|
| Until you're stuck
|
| Lookin' in the mirror like I can't believe what I become
|
| Swore I was gonna be someone
|
| And growin' up everyone always does
|
| We sell our dreams and our potential
|
| To escape through that buzz
|
| Just keep me up, keep me up
|
| Hollywood, here we come
|
|
|
| "You can tend to, um, go a little too far with some of these things"
|
| "They have very strong addictive qualities, pills and syrups and whatnot, so um…"
|
| "Is it changing the music?"
|
| "Um, I can only speak for myself personally, you know what I'm saying?"
|
| "Um, we had been taking down, toning down the content of certain things in the music lately"
|
| "My new album, of course, probably won't have any references to cough syrup in it"
|
| "But, uh, it's a little bit more than the music"
|
| "I think it's gonna start affecting the personal lives of a lot of artists and people..."
|
This song has been removed. The reason for removal was unknown.
