"Living In Pain" lyrics

Welcome to the House of Pain
Just Blaze, niggas

There's no way out, it seems I can't get free
Somebody tell me what's happened to me

The country bud got me chokin'
I'm on a mission to the point that motherfuckers think I'm smokin'
Yeah, that sick nigga Biggie with the 8-shot fifth
With the extra clip for that extra shit
Don't you know that a killing is thrilling?
All the blood spilling is all a part of drug dealing
A born gangster, my daddy was a thug
Had a .38 with the hollow point slug
So when he licked shots, niggas dropped
Quicker than a bootlegger sells his liquor
A little nigga tried to squeeze .22's in my Reebok shoes
Payin' dues, while kids was on their ones and twos, huh
Now I'm much older, colder, fuck a holster
Got the MAC-11 swingin' from my shoulder
It's a damn shame I got to put my momma through the strain
I'm livin' in the house of pain

Is anybody listenin'?
Tell me, can you can see this darkness surrounding me?
Nights gettin' colder, heavy on my shoulder
And it's gettin' hard to breathe
Vision's gettin' blurry, I'm gettin' worried
'Cause it's gettin' hard to see
When you're livin' in the house of pain

The motherfuckin' dust kicker, who can you trust?
Do you have the heart to see a nigga, before you bust?
My name is spoken on the tongues of so many foes
Bustin' motherfuckers out the box, I ain't even go!
Now how the hell do you explain my claim to fame?
From doin' flicks to bustin' tricks out the fuckin' frame
Got these bitches on my jock, niggas on my block
Jealous ass suckers got 'em duckin' from my smokin' Glock
And bustin' niggas asses to stay alive
Skinny-ass player watchin' bigger motherfuckers fry
They ask me how I'm livin', high, I'm a hustler
Buckin' busters 'til they die
Now it's on in the ghetto, you ain't heard?
Niggas got they AKs headin' for the 'burbs
Aimin' at them skinhead bitches, let it rain
Givin' 'em a wet welcome to the House of Pain

Is anybody listenin'? Tell me can you can see
This darkness surrounding me
Now it's gettin' colder heavy on my shoulder
And it's gettin' hard to breathe (MJB)
Vision's gettin' blurry, I'm gettin' worried (Be worried, niggas)
'Cause it's gettin' hard to see (Yeah, Nas)
When you're livin' in the house of pain
(What up, B.I., Pac?)

Wendy Williams say I stayed dusted, maybe I should
'Cause these rappers'll have your phone tapped like Savion Glover
And on the West, yo, police corrupt, some are Bloods
But these Teflons I loaded explodin' some mugs
I'm like Furious in Boyz n the Hood, but at the drive-through
I ain't runnin', I'm dumpin', crazy like a Piru
And loc'd up, know how Nas do
I'm callin' Henchmen and Concepcion, to organize a black truce
Then we party hard, party with Nas
Since there ain't no more Mardi Gras
And Bush won't apologize
I got gangster hoes Kobe Bryant scared to sodomize
And .45's for them suckers y'all idolize
Y'all yellin' my name, but y'all soon dyin'
Tryin' to portray real but they be lyin'
'Cause they want the real niggas to die so they could gain
But never that, this ain't Everlast, this the House of Pain

Is anybody listenin'? Tell me can you can see
This darkness surrounding me
Now it's gettin' colder heavy on my shoulder
And it's gettin' hard to breathe
Vision's gettin' blurry, I'm gettin' worried
'Cause it's gettin' hard to see
When you're livin' in the house of pain