Side Effect

[Verse 1: Paris] On the stretcher, under pressure The sensation of the slugs in my body is still fresh in me Mama is stressin’ me In the ambulance readin’ me Genesis 1 or 7 I only remembered half of that As I blacked out, passed out Woke up in general with nurses pullin’ my oxygen mask out I’m ready to smash out But I can’t walk, can’t talk Morphine drip, draining my train of thought, distraught Weed and patron to make you get loose Ran my mouth to the wrong niggas and they let loose Let they tec shoot, Smith and Wess hit the set, hit with death Hit my chest, clipped my breath, then they jet, damn And just like menace, my niggas visit, revenge intended To go to who gave it, and give it Give ‘em the business Wanna see they brains hang Never thought I meant it That I’d be going through the same thing [Hook: T-K.A.S.H.] All I wanna do is feel better But the red, white, and blue they got it set up So the doctors and the nurses ain’t there for us Unless they working with the county welfare for us Just basketball, alcohol, and jail for us And a funky ass mr. access healthcare for us In the hood we don’t pay no attention Cause it’s just another way for you to bury us, uh come on [Verse 2: Paris] Yeah, it’s time to check out, get out, before I leave Signed paperwork, paying [?] Prescribing me painkillers and fluids to clean my flesh out They told me cold pain with my provider is the best route What the fuck is cold pain with my provider and shit? Fuck you mean if I don’t pay, you ain’t supplyin’ me shit? What the fuck is health coverage? I don’t go to work “Bitch, I’m in these streets” I’m yellin’ up at the clerk It’s nuthin’, 6 G’s I pulled outta my pocket, and from a ten-grand hospital bill they doctored No diploma, no employment, no insurance, no benefits No medicine, no better than when they let me in I turn to mama, but mama ain’t got a job She’s smokin’ her damn self, that’s why I’m up in the mob My niggas be stackin’ money, but niggas be actin’ funny When I call to see what’s up on the hundred for my recovery [Hook: T-K.A.S.H.] All I wanna do is feel better But the red, white, and blue they got it set up So the doctors and the nurses ain’t there for us Unless they working with the county welfare for us Just basketball, alcohol, and jail for us And a funky ass mr. access healthcare for us In the hood we don’t pay no attention Cause it’s just another way for you to bury us, uh come on [Verse 3: Paris] »Phone ringing« (Yeah.) Hello? (Yeah.) Yeah. I’m a boss in the game (Hmm.) Tryin’ to get my insurance on (Get your insurance on?) Get my insurance on »Phone hangs up« Hello? Man, this motherfucker hung up the phone And I ain’t feelin’ right No prescription, no medication, so I ain’t healin’ right When I walk I limp and my shoulders is still stiff at night Tried to get a job, they tellin’ me 90 days I be blazed to evade the pain, mental and physical Takin’ hella aspirin, shakin’ hella bad When I asked the people up in Walmart about it Made me lift my shirt and show ‘em the damage, I can’t ignore it They squirm like mama did, and tell me see a doctor for it But I can’t afford it It cost money and I got it, but I can’t report it And I got to pay the ambulance, they mailed a notice Another thug life side effect I failed to notice This health insurance is some cold shit