Friends of Ill (feat. Messiah Carey, Tribe One, Dopey Ziegler & Packy Lundholm)

I used to have a normal life, but it's a pitiful sign That now I can't have a thought and not commit it to rhyme I can't not rock a spot if I'm given a mic And if a cypher breaks out, yeah I'm spitting some rhymes I really did it this time, I done fucked up my life Because I can't make it through the week without rocking a mic I need a lyrics fix, so fuck appearances I made it here, it's just, I'm kind of wanting to write But I don't need that shit anymore Laying in the gutter strung out on some metaphors Man, that's the old me and I ready to call it quits But I keep falling off, I'll tell you what the problem is People hear me do it, tell me I should do it some more Until my fluids pouring to the floor, then cue the remorse These enablers are adding to my mountain of pain Because every time I rap they be shouting my name You see I gave it up once, but it wasn't for me So keep it moving, push along, nothing to see I mean, sure relationships unravel and such Because I don't make hits and I travel too much And I'm scratching and I'm clawing and I'm paddling up And impossible river just like your average duck Yeah, you know, I quack when I suck But I'll never give up the sound of the magical stuff I mean, think about the way it hits your eardrum The way it satiates the place you hear from Think about that feel when the tears come And this world ain't so lonely and fearsome Um... where was I? YOLO, Just Do It, and bonsai Ahead of the game, not one of those numb guys I could quit whenever I want now Yo, check it out, look at this thumb drive I've been clean for about a year and a half now I no longer want the audience cheering and clap sounds I've quieted the beats I used to hear in the background And I'm happy. No really, I'm serious. Rap's out of my life Oh god, I live a lie when out in public And the only way that I survive is writing rhymes about the subject Anytime when I'm in private I just lust to clutch the microphone And be the me that no one sees when I'm alone inside my home I keep the doors locked when visitors come And I hold my breath as they test the doorknob and jiggle it some And then eventually they storm of thinking I'm scum And they're right, I'm a poor slob and this isn't fun "Niles, come on" No I'm not done, don't talk! Just listen for once I've tried everything to ward off my addiction to drums One time I chewed a whole box of nicotine gum But it didn't change the way it rolls off the tip of my tongue And there's no stopping it when it's begun Fiending for a microphone Addiction I cannot kick on my own, I need some help Blazing microphones a habit At least once during the course of a day, it's automatic I fiend for a microphone, like heroin At night the open mic be inviting me to rhyme Give me a stage and a mic and a mix I need a fix Even one who knows the dangers may become addicted before he realizes it