Мартышки на улице

Текст песни "Мартышки — на улице"

[Intro]
(News Report / Bun B Interview)

[Verse 1]
Ya rolled up,
Asked him what he's sippin' on,
He said lean, you wanna hit it, dawg?
That's the stuff Weezy sippin', huh?
And tons of other rappers that be spittin' hard,
Yep, he had five up on,
Then went and passed him that styrofoam,
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,
Thinkin' 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,
Hot box, let the bass bump,
Take you to the base, go,
Months later, the use went up,
Every blunt was accompanied by the pink stuff,
But, god damn, glub that pill and,
Purple rain coated down the throat,
It's so healin', medicine to alleviate the sickness,
Liquid affixed, and it comes with a cost,
Wake up, cold sweats, scratchin', itchin',
Try and escape this skin that barely fit him,
Gone, get another bottle, just to get a couple swallows,
Headed towards the bottom, and couldn't get off it,
They didn't even think he had a problem,
Though he couldn't sleep without getting nauseas,
Room's spinnin', thinkin',
He might have sipped just a little too much of that cough syrup,
His eyelids closed shut,
Sat back in the chair, clutchin' that cup,
His girlfriend came in 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...

[Interlude]

[Verse 2]
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 the tin,
Pack bein' 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 the box, declined 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 pain,
Syrup, Percocet, and an eighth today,
Will he be broke, depressed, and emotionally vacant?
Despite how Lil' Wayne lives,
It's not conducive to being creative,
And I know, because he's my favorite,
And I know, because I was off of that same mix,
Rationalized the shit that I try,
After I listened 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 25 and move back to your parents' basement,
I've seen my people's dreams die,
I've seen what they can be, denied,
And weeds are the drug that's the now,
Groundhog Day, life repeat, each time,
I've seen oxycotton take three lives,
I grew up with them, we used the cheap dimes,
I've seen cocaine bring out the demons inside,
Cheating and lying,
Friendships cease, no peace in the mind,
Stealin', and take anything to fix the pieces inside,
Broken, hopeless, head is nowhere,
Only motivation for what the dealer's supplying,
That rush, that drug, that dope,
Those pills, that chrome, that roach,
Thinkin' I would never do that, not that drug,
Growin' up, nobody ever does,
Until you're stuck, lookin' in the mirror like
"I can't believe what I've become..."
Swore I was gonna be someone,
And growin' up, everyone always does,
We sell our dreams and our potential to escape to that buzz,
Just keep me up
Keep me up
Hollywood, He