When I come home from work
I'm fiendin' for an eight-ball
I got crack on my mind
I'm hearing cocaine call
Telling me to beep the dealer to deliver me stuff
Keep it a secret from my wife, cuz she thinks I don't use drugs
There I was, bleeding from my nose and damn
I couldn't breathe but I'm still thinking about the next gram
It's Friday night and I'm not trying to leave my crib doped
I'll kill myself while the dealer's eating Japanese food
I ain't got no pride, I'm buying this shit
I'm lying to myself telling the runner I'm trying to quit
It's all make believe, I pretend that I'm true
When you give me credit, I'll dodge you every chance that I get to
Even if its good, I'll sniff it up in a minute
Beep you back complain that you put too much cut in it
If you fall for that and bring me a new sack
I'll be making more crazy faces than Jim Carrey on crack
Cuz yo I'm ripped, I owe you loot
Plus I annoy you
I deserve to be murdered, but the coke is doing it for you
I got nerve, can you put them pills on my bill
Yo I'll you we're friends and we don't even chill
I need drugs
I need drugs
Baking soda, cocaine, how sweet
I need to find me a crack pipe and I'm complete
I got these crack dealers chasing me through the cement jungle
Cuz they gave me shit to sell and yo I smoked the whole bundle
Yo I can't front - I got dope in my spleen
And I'm telling everyone at this N.A. meeting I'm thirty days clean
I won't die even with tuberculosis
I could go on forever mixing dope with my methadone dosage
You could find me at Brighton Beach or Coney Island
Or Rikers Island
My crack pipe is my violin
I play along to the police siren
My eyes squint looking for crack on the floor
picking up breadcrumbs and lint
I don't know who I am, ask me I couldn't say
I took a chance and tried to get clean and it lasted one day
Tried
