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• Artiste: Pharoahe Monch
• Titre: Post Traumatic Stress Disorder
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Fuck you know about struggle? The boy in the plastic bubble When I drink away the pain I guzzle My life is like a complicated mathematical puzzle, for real Seen death twice, it's ugly motherfucker man But you conversate with him when you suffering He said, "Let go of the pain, you'll never rock the mic again [?] 20 Vicodin" I kinda likened it to Ortho Tri-cyclen Disturbing the natural cycles of life and it's trifling Fuck what you heard, less money more problems 4 years removed from the game with no alblum I put the gun to my brain, but first I wrote a note to explain Put the Luger in my head, and these are the words that I said Sure as kingdoms rise the same kingdoms were sure to fall And wash away like memories, as if weren't there at all Like broken limbs of trees that's lost it's leaves to Winter's wind Spring will come again... Live... Live... Live... Live When your cerebral ceases to administer silence And the only Faith you have left is a CD From a singer who had a son with Christopher Wallace Tomorrow is never Hope is abolished Mind and soul have little to no unity Life threw a brick through my window of opportunity My immune system lacked diplomatic immunity When asthma attacks the black community Where do you go from there? Long walk, short pier Thought I knew all it was just to know of the ledge Till I glanced down at all ten toes on the ledge Before I heard what sounded to me like a pledge Emerged from the darkness, and this is what it said Do not despair, breathe, fight For there is more life to live, believe More insight to share, retrieve Was the dead at the illustrious Exhale, hold, inhale, receive and live... Live... Live... Live... Sure as kingdoms rise the same kingdoms were sure to fall And wash away like memories, as if weren't there at all Like broken limbs of trees that's lost it's leaves to Winter's wind Spring will come again... Live... Live... Live... Live