First off, this shit is the new and improved Absense, leading off, with track 1, entirely self produced Rap star, DJ, producer, engineer All in one, perhaps my new career Office life sucks, takes a lot to persevere And adhere to politics no matter how insincere At work being treated like some kinda racketeer I have to say, this job is starting to interfere With my happiness and my progression in music Oppression leads to depression leads me not to do shit Wake up at 7, then a nap at 8 Up till 2 in the morning trying to channel the hate If I don’t do something now, I can just seal my fate behind a desk, or going crazy and sent up state I illustrate it everyday, should I quit and await For my music to take off, I constantly debate Whether or not I’m wasting my time spitting this verse No girl, awful job, how can this shit get worse So why not create an album, I got a lot to say And if not for hip hop, I wouldn’t be here today Thanks to Del, Main Source, and Erik Sermon You were in my deck blasting, keeping me determined To pave my own path and not follow the rest And keep strong through adversity, nomatter how grotesque You’d be hard pressed to find more stress than me compressed I didn’t fly over bitch, I fucking shredded the cuckcoo’s nest You got the Syndrome, I got the remedy Try licking on bitch tits slickly rubbed in hennesy If you ain’t cured with that, I got some other chemistry But doubt you can stomach the vaccines intensity like a John F Kennedy speech laced with obscenity Stop frontin kid, you played yourself you ain’t a friend to me

He feels like a sucker, lacking any self confidence Lived life on the safe side, never had to face consequence smoked dope once or twice but nothing more profane In this sheltered life he ain’t never even seen cocaine But with all the precautions life can still bring its own pain Although he tried to stop, he’s stuck in a hyrdoplane Life eats at him and he never feels adequate To any motherfucker, so he heads for the cabinet Doesn’t matter how hard he tries or how passionate He thinks of the jokes they make and man he ain’t havin it Grabs the bottle of jameson pops cross the kitchen Reaches for the ambien, to forget what he’s missin he drops darvecets, his pops is a pharmascist His life’s become flammable and he is the arsonist Pills and alcohol have made him less of coward The caps he devoured, made him feel more empowered Middle class kids, college clowns and teenie boppers No better than crack heads self blinding pill poppers becoming more shallow to the high, blood narrowin vicadin and xanaex then to hillbilly heroin OC gets ya high with out injecting they say And that Its prescribed to thosands it can’t be hamful, ok Take that logic to everything that you do in a day A buffet of shit to mask pain in life, wash it away Now everytime he feels even slightly depressed He hits his grandmothers room for the next cap to ingest Gets to the point where he can’t digest the slightest stress And all he thinks about is pills the caps tend to infest thoughts manifest quickly to indulging excess Valiums and percocets washed down with Milwakees Best Transgressed from an athlete to a shitty condition Looking like a pale and frail ghost an apirition Parents force him to visit the family physician Cause When he’s not high, got a terrible disposition Doc intervenes right and has him admitted To rehabilitiation, he claims to be committed 3 months later the habit he claims to have quit it Only to step out and have his new self retrofitted With a pill crusher, to get high faster His new bound life, right back to disaster Middle class kids, college clowns and teenie boppers No better than crack heads self blinding pill poppers becoming more shallow to the high, blood narrowin vicadin and xanaex then to hillbilly heroin OC gets ya high with out injecting they say And that Its prescribed to thosands it can’t be hamful, ok Take that logic to everything that you do in a day A buffet of shit to mask pain in life, wash it away Fast forward 12 years the pill poppers 35 He got himself partly together amaingly still alive Got a wife and kid now he’s working a 9 to 5 Even got himself a fresh whip, with all wheel drive His occupation centers on buying and selling stocks But Still gets high whenever the opportunity knocks Wife has no clue when he claims he’s working late takes fake business trips, never tried to interrogate He’s a professional now, knows how to mask the signs Visine, coffee, long showers, keeps him looking fine His work schedule keeps him away from home by design No father figure to his son, so kid acts out his mind One day Waits for his mother to leave for work Heads to the laundry room sifts through his father’s shirt Front pocket finds a blue and green tablet He May as well have led that kid straight to the cabinet

Most guys know this type, the one that travels the world She comes from money, an overprivlidged white girl Daddy paid the full ride for the school of her choice Went to a private high school, time to rejoice Cause of the fact she got a trust fund, soon to be vested Never lifted a finger, her life completely untested Summers spent on vacations, oh what a time Making out with the locals, all on daddy’s dime Studied some useless subject, fucked as much as she could Still cried all the time about being misunderstood The stress in her life, always self inflicted Self-centered and selfish, drama queen who’s addicted To attention, spoiled brat, always getting her way Living richy’s dream world, a walking cliché 4 years of college, mental masturbation Graduation, tuition wasted, and still no vocation Chorus: BEEN AROUND THE WORLD AND AY-YI-YI She roams around the world BEEN AROUND THE WORLD AND AY-YI-YI She roams around the world 2X Immediately after school, she treated herself Seated on a Plane, Proceeded to Spain, depleted her wealth Slightly, feisty going out nightly Pops kept feeding her money so the end was unlikely friends jealous at shit, she put up a front Claiming to work as a waitress, the bitch was a cunt Got bored of the Spain scene, popped cross the ocean To Latin America, so much self-devotion She was living the high life no matter the cost Dipping into the trust fund, hitting the sauce Mooching for free drinks, cock teasing guys Thinking they’d hit it, always believing her lies Pops cut her off, the well had run dry The life she chose to live could no longer be satisfied What else to do, her next matriculation Was graduate school for yet more validation Chorus: BEEN AROUND THE WORLD AND AY-YI-YI She roams around the world BEEN AROUND THE WORLD AND AY-YI-YI She roams around the world 2X (2nd part of master created) Her Master’s degree could’ve been obtained fast But the fantastic bitch, went to school only half-assed Once the degree came, 3 years had been passed Amassed dozens of guys she fucked, but minimal class Her first resume, although only rough draft She compared it to kids just out of school and was quite aghast Her fun and travels, fucking, drinking, smoking the grass Left no work experience, she was being surpassed By kids 22, She was 30 and outclassed exhausted her funds and being harassed By credit companies, she was all out of cash She Started as White gold and she ended as White trash Now she’s really working the tables, and in a flash life had lost its glamour, she was barely middle class What goes around comes around, she chose her path And now her ex-guys and girlfriends, just sit back and laugh Chorus: BEEN AROUND THE WORLD AND AY-YI-YI She roams around the world BEEN AROUND THE WORLD AND AY-YI-YI She roams around the world 2X

Nas was too kind when he said hip hop is dead Today’s hip hop sucks, the genre’s hanging by a thread rappers seem to sing the same song, blurred into chatter They can’t find any sort of advanced subject matter Guns, pussy, more guns, more pussy and drugs Reped by Mean mugs, most pose as studio thugs Everyone sells out trying to make that club hit Yeah…… Down south they think that dirt shit is beautiful After one bar, I wanna to pop pharmesuticals To erase the sound and have some therapeutic Relief, how can they even think that shit is music Screaming over beats, ice grills in their mouth Is This the best they got to offer representing the south? I see the hard knock life is sponsored by Mercedes To gangster rap, that shit went out in the 80’s Wheres the progression? that stuff really getting the ladies? Is this the torch that we really want to pass to our babies? That’s all we got and the only reason we’re here Hip-Hop is in danger the futures is unclear. Most rap these days glorifies violence and killin Again, is this the message we want to pass to the children? Is it the result or lack of original thought? were these the real life lessons we’re taught? Do we perpetuate un-intelligence? Why not try to give back something with some sort of real relevance Too many chefs in the mix, spoiling the soup Too many wannabes trying to emulate snoop Too many try-to-bes my race and age You ain’t a rapper cause you got a fucking myspace page I mean I look across worldwide web, All them coming out talking shit, wantin to be a celeb There has to be over 10,000 MC’s From illiterate folk to ones wit college degrees. Bitch Please to many try to appease The pop genere, go and get back on your knees Posting whack songs made on ya PC’s You ain’t hard, your like long island ice tees Water downed, nuttin but wannabe G’s Hip hop is ill, not meaning dope, it’s got a fucking disease

Tragedy strikes when Absense comes through Mathmatik kills cats who try to misconstrue What it is we represent and who were talking to All these clowns selling out for the revenue I rep Hartford kid and Franklin Avenue And I rep P-City, this shits been long overdue I was twelve years old back in 92 Just gotten past the death of Captain Kangaroo When I picked up the mic it was like déjà vu Felt comfortable this what I was born to do An Italian, Canadian, Irish stew Angry like a starved animal in Bwana zoo I was young watching espisodes of Scooby Doo When I first heard Mobb Deep’s Shook ones part 2 Spent my allowance on mix tapes by DJ Clue And bumped 36 chambers fucking loved the Wu 94 Dirty Rotten Damaga Jeru 99 Kill My landlord dropped by the coup Hard to Earn Gangstarr Premier , Guru And that same with you when you step through to ODB next clan member to breakthrough These were my influences when I moved onto Rap as a career it was tabu For a white boy to spit and continue The hip-hop tradition, tried to de-value 95 Assasisnation was my debut It was an album bonus track so thank you To Nullset for giving the world a preview Of what was to come this shit is true Abmatik is the shit can’t argue

Fuck rap you in circles, I would rap you in squares Then I’ll billing your Visa charging you outrages fares. The stares I get on the mic, are sort of like terror but not unlike glares you would get from feminists for yelling out dyke. ,dislike Confusion, hate, horror, slow healings. I bring the heat, ya leaving with uncomfortable feelings. ceilings caving in, the walls close in sickly behind you. front is ya forgotten fear. Let me quickly remind you. Of why most shudder when I step in the house And in my presence, ya stutter so don’t open your mouth. Your heart begins to flutter rapidly when I stare you down. How many times I got to say it bitch don’t make a sound. Keep quiet and you’ll only get smacked to the ground You think I’m kidding, check my rep, bitch I’m well renowned. For sonning MC’s claiming they hard and these clowns That tough talk about they gangs and how they spit rounds But when the shit talk get heated they quick to skip town The floods of rhyme I spit they swallow and drown slapped every skirt that was claiming the crown ya not with me your against me don’t follow me down Battle me, please, I would never waste my time It’d be the last instance you ever faced my rhyme My flows race, your skills are slow paced that’s fine. But make haste before you get laced with mine. Follow me as I take a hard look at ya strife You’re a failure in every aspect of ya life You sold out, big dreams of being the best Blinded by the light, but missed seeing the test I learned there’s no use of fleeing success I cause you tension, my lyrics aren’t freeing the stressed. They bump my first track, and they’re kneeling distressed. They bump the last one, well they’re still feeling depressed I never said my words wouldn’t leave you obsessed With cutting flesh, ripping hair or leave you possessed Nonetheless there’s no doubt they’ll leave you impressed No matter what you perceive or how much you destest What I say in my songs I’m an artist suppressed. I still haven’t released a track fully expressed. So hate me, curse me, but may I suggest you begin with my race, I’m white shit that’s already assessed

I remember the days way back when Like five years before my first tonic and gin Before life left simplicity became complex And caused me to always worry bout what shit was poppin next Was young and impatient, but not concerned With girls, paying the rent or the money I earned All I wanted was to play ball chill with my friends It was a sober time and before carcinogens Became a bad habit anytime I got stressed Before they forced me on paxil despite my protest I remember Saurdays, Zach would come by NBA Jam on Genesis morning till night Rap City was on from 11 till noon So we paused for an hour before games resumed And one more time before it got dark We headed up the hill for pick up games in the park Lord how I wish I could turn back time When life needed no reason or rhyme Before the pressure threw life out of whack The Good Old Days, man I wanna go back Lord how I wish could turn back time And repeat the time when life seemed so fine Before wellbutrin, Zoloft and prozac The Good Old Days, man I wanna go back During the summers, I worked on my game Was an all-star at ball camps. I made it rain Whether I was popping threes, or shooting free throws Attended Eastern Invitational camps in the poconos Mass Hoop Mountain , BCD in NJ Now it’ a silly game that men play But back then its all I wanted to do I had the jumper and the handle and I flaunted it too A white boy who played like representin the street Complimented by the fact on the mic he brought heat Absented himself from the white stiffs who represented Hippies and hicks, and his style was unprecedented High black socks, white kicks, T’s wit one sleeve Looked like a derelict but tended to overachive Its sometimes hard to think back then Cause now I wish I could go and do it over again Lord how I wish I could turn back time Like to the very first night I decided to rhyme Before the pressure threw life out of whack The Good Old Days, man I wanna go back Lord how I wish could turn back time And repeat the time when life seemed so fine Before wellbutrin, Zoloft and prozac The Good Old Days, man I wanna go back After School, my moms would prep dinner And when she went out, I got a hot ass babysitter The garabrant girls, I went through every one Each vowed not to return once they were done I’d let the dog loose, I’d hide in the closets Clog all the sinks, turn on all the faucets Flood the kitchen and bathrooms, open the beers And Every once in a while I’d bring them to tears Those were the days, man nothing was greater Ecersicing and Terrorizing helpless teenagers It was all in fun, my methods were various funny till someone gets hurt, and then its hilarious not accepted the fact wishing wastes energy And days in the past, are simply a memory