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[Intro:Alan Watts ] |
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Now you might say then |
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The Buddhist philosophy to suffering |
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Is not at all one of turning away from it |
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Of solving the problem of suffering by turning ones back on it nd escaping it |
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Rather its whole attitude is |
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That the solution of solving the problem of human pain |
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Whether it be physical or whether it be moral |
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Is to go right into it |
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[Verse 1] |
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You live your life through Kodak moments |
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Hopeless hoping they all notice |
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Call this growth or natural progress |
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But most illnesses are cultured |
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So you rent cars with your rent money |
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Champagne well spent money |
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Ball out and then fall out |
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With your friends in jail you never sent money |
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Your the man right? damn right |
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And you swear to God there all hating |
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You get more beef see the down side |
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So outside them niggas waiting on you |
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No doubt another pagan on you |
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New Town another station on you |
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Convince that feds can't take it from you |
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For all the hype you get a label on you but still |
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You got no deal but they Know the deal cos real |
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If you write that and you like that then they will [they will] |
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You leave the streets and then come right back |
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And you know your mum she don't like that |
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And you tell her like it ain't like that |
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And the rap money still yet to come |
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And that trap money still ain't enough |
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And them young g's are now growing up |
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And wheres are your friends? feds locked em up |
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And you meet a girl in this London club |
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And she got a glass and you top it up |
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And you got a girl but your not in love |
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And you had a girl but shes not the one and that's pain |
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[Chorus] |
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And that's pain [x 3] |
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If i could write a song about |
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'Bout pain |
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And i could write a song about |
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'Bout pain |
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And i could write a song about pain |
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Write a song about pain x 2 |
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[Verse 2] |
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Let me just write a song about pain |
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Young struggles guns, beef and cocaine |
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All those lonely nights that you prayed |
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All those life choices you made |
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I mean you hear a tale about drug dealers |
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Old phones couple young niggas |
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Rich dreams poor upbringings |
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Same walk of life but trying run a business |
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You find a block and then lock that |
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You sell a dream and they cop that |
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You buy a strap and then pop that |
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Tryna take a life and then got |
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And that real life for them real niggas |
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Serving life and you relive it |
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Every time your alone that's real prison |
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Real Friends but they rarely visit |
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That's P.A in the P,A |
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I ain't gotta spell it out when i relay |
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Every word in the verse they relate |
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Why you gotta bend the truth? my nigga be straight |
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Cah that's how bad boys behave |
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Kilo's buy these new chains |
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That's how wreck-less we save |
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Still I'm around this mess that we made |
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And the rap money still yet to come |
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And that trap money still ain't enough |
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And them young g's are now growing up |
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And wheres are your friends? feds locked em up |
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And that's ****ed up and that's tough luck |
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Another life gone and that's one/one |
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Two families cry and that tough love |
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And shes so ashamed but that's mum son and that pain |