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 a.m. and the temperature is 89 degrees

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 tokin` 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 mister don`t get flam

I ain`t tryin` to be rude and I ain`t stressin` you gramps
But this s**t right here, it be the breakfast of champs
I`ve been tokin` on this since thirteen years old
And when I look up at my wall, I see platinum and gold

And there ain`t nobody sneezin` at the money I fold
And I ain`t here for your pleasin`, so put that s**t on hold
Just keep your mouth shut and get me to the hotel
And turn the radio up while I finish this L

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
Good lookin` out

That`s for you, I hop out my car, step into the lobby
Everybody`s on the floor, it`s a motherf**kin` robbery
The s**t`s in progress, I can feel the stress
I wanna silently to God how did I get in this mess?

They tell me to freeze and get down on my knees
Between my jewels and my cash, I`m holdin` thirty five G`s
They told me to run it, so I got bold and I fronted
And like Slick Rick said, “I knew, I shouldn`t of done it”

`Cause now they standin` over me, watchin` me bleed
Damn, I got to quit smokin` 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 killin` my pain, they screamin` my name
Tryin` to keep me in the conscious world
I`m thinkin` about my mom, my sister and my girl

I`m prayin` 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 wearin` this scar `cause I tried to play hard

Mr. Ford, I`m afraid, I have some bad news for you
What are you talkin` about?
It would appear that one of the bullets grazed your spine
And damaged the cord
So what are you tryin` to tell me?
Well, it`s safe to say, I don`t think, you`ll be jumpin` 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 mornin` I rise to a life of despise
And every night I think, I might never rock the mic again
`Cause my brain`s f**ked up on percacet and vicadin

Might as well be heroin pulsin` 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 somethin` years old