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Live Now

[Chorus]
Live now niggaz, there's no promise of a second time around, put it down
you
All you gotta do is just, live now, we spending
Not under the ground yet, we enjoying every second yo
Live now, don't forget to bro, yeah
cause I promise you you'll regret it bro
Picture my last days will be so grim
My daughter at my bedside, respirator in me
Eyes dilated, looking skinny, trying to smile, trying to say something
Whole room will quiet down just to hear my last words
Tears fall down my facial, why fear anything, it's now too late to
I'm dreaming of a time I was silked out at the peak of my career
But I always choked out, leaving mad money on the table at crazy amounts
I would hit the scene for a second and bounce
Admit I did live a little bit, sweet pickle dick
Freaks licked on it, lips I dripped on it
Sex, I dropped pearl necklaces on necks and tits
Traveled half the world, wish I traveled the rest of it
From QB to Mecca kid, so if you knew me

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song performed by Nas
Added by Lucian Velea
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Live Now (feat. Scarlett)

[Chorus]
Live now niggaz, there's no promise of a second time around, put it down
We'll just live now, there's no reason why you shouldn't, everything is up to you
All you gotta do is just, live now, we spending
Not under the ground yet, we enjoying every second yo
Live now, don't forget to bro, yeah
cause I promise you you'll regret it bro
Picture my last days will be so grim
My daughter at my bedside, respirator in me
Eyes dilated, looking skinny, trying to smile, trying to say something
Whole room will quiet down just to hear my last words
Tears fall down my facial, why fear anything, it's now too late to
I'm dreaming of a time I was silked out at the peak of my career
But I always choked out, leaving mad money on the table at crazy amounts
I would hit the scene for a second and bounce
Admit I did live a little bit, sweet pickle dick
Freaks licked on it, lips I dripped on it
Sex, I dropped pearl necklaces on necks and tits
Traveled half the world, wish I traveled the rest of it
From QB to Mecca kid, so if you knew me

[...] Read more

song performed by Nas
Added by Lucian Velea
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Grinch 2000 (feat. Jim Carrey)

f/ Jim Carrey
[Jim Carrey]
This is a Flipmode Squad
Jim Carrey collabo
Now what?
[Busta]
Ugh, hallelujah
Kids hear this come on
While I'm lacing and tryna prepare this
For y'all, oh well I got a story to tell
About a dude I met once, miserable as hell
How grouchy he was
And how slouchy he was
And when he talked, you'd smell his breath
And how lousy it was
And if you daydreamed, he'd give you pinch
Now let me tell you about Mr. Grinch
Every holiday season while we was young, growing up
Everything be cool when Mr. Grinch show up
Always plottin' and schemin' to ruin everybody's holiday season

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song performed by Busta Rhymes
Added by Lucian Velea
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Sunday at Hampstead

I

(AN VERY IDLE IDYLL BY A VERY HUMBLE MEMBER OF THE GREAT AND NOBLE LONDON MOB.)

This is the Heath of Hampstead,
This is the Dome of Saint Paul’s;
Beneath, on the serried house-tops,
A chequered luster falls:

And the might city of London,
Under the clouds and the light,
Seems a low, wet beach, half shingle,
With a few sharp rocks upright.

Here we sit, my darling,
And dream an hour away:
The donkeys are hurried and worried,
But we are not donkeys to-day:

Through all the weary week, dear,

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poem by James Thomson
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The Mass Of Christ

I
DOWN in the woodlands, where the streamlet runs,
Close to the breezy river, by the dells
Of ferns and flowers that shun the summer suns
But gather round the lizard-haunted wells,
And listen to the birds' sweet syllables —
Down in the woodlands, lying in the shade,
Among the rushes green that shook and gleamed,
I, I whose songs were of my heart's blood made,
Found weary rest from wretchedness, it seemed,
And fell asleep, and as I slept, I dreamed.
II
I dreamed I stood beside a pillar vast
Close to a little open door behind,
Whence the small light there was stole in aghast,
And for a space this troubled all my mind,
To lose the sunlight and the sky and the wind.
For I could know, I felt, how all before,
Though high and wonderful and to be praised,
In heart and soul and mind oppressed me sore.

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poem by Francis William Lauderdale Adams
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Mostly Slavonic

I.—
Peter Michaelov

It was Peter the Barbarian put an apron in his bag
And rolled up the honoured bundle that Australians call a swag;
And he tramped from Darkest Russia, that it might be dark no more,
Dreaming of a port, and shipping, as no monarch dreamed before.
Of a home, and education, and of children staunch and true,
Like my father in the fifties—and his name was Peter, too.
(He could build a ship—or fiddle, out of wood, or bark, or hide—.
Sail one round the world and play the other one at eventide.)

Russia’s Peter (not my father) went to Holland in disguise,
Where he laboured as a shipwright underneath those gloomy skies;
Later on he went to England (which the Kaiser now—condemns)
Where he studied as a ship-smith by old Deptford on the Thames—
And no doubt he knew the rope-walk—(and the rope’s end too, he knew)—
Learned to build a ship and sail it—learned the business through and through.
And I’d like to say my father mastered navigation too.
(He was born across in Norway, educated fairly well,

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poem by Henry Lawson
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Of Ancient Mastodon, Sleepy Bee & Young Men Who Leap Too Soon From Bridges - Nightingale Confesses Into Straighter Teeth

'...descend, and of the curveship lend a myth to God.' - Hart Crane

Pueri aeterna, septem cadens
Etiam plures ad

The boys eternal, seven falling
Too many more to come

Jamey Rodemayer
Tyler Clementi
Raymond Chase
Asher Brown
Billy Lucas
Seth Walsh
Justin Aaberg

Sub olivae, pacem
Ut vos omnes adoremus orientatio

Under the olive trees, peace

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poem by Warren Falcon
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Part IV

Occupied by the elm; and, as its shade
Has crept clock-hand-wise till it ticks at fern
Five inches further to the South,—the door
Opens abruptly, someone enters sharp,
The elder man returned to wait the youth—
Never observes the room's new occupant,
Throws hat on table, stoops quick, elbow-propped
Over the Album wide there, bends down brow
A cogitative minute, whistles shrill,
Then,—with a cheery-hopeless laugh-and-lose
Air of defiance to fate visibly
Casting the toils about him,—mouths once more
"Hail, calm acclivity, salubrious spot!"
Then clasps-to cover, sends book spinning off
T'other side table, looks up, starts erect
Full-face with her who,—roused from that abstruse
Question, "Will next tick tip the fern or no?",—
Fronts him as fully.

All her languor breaks,

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poem by Robert Browning from The Inn Album (1875)
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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The Iliad: Book 21

Now when they came to the ford of the full-flowing river Xanthus,
begotten of immortal Jove, Achilles cut their forces in two: one
half he chased over the plain towards the city by the same way that
the Achaeans had taken when flying panic-stricken on the preceding day
with Hector in full triumph; this way did they fly pell-mell, and Juno
sent down a thick mist in front of them to stay them. The other half
were hemmed in by the deep silver-eddying stream, and fell into it
with a great uproar. The waters resounded, and the banks rang again,
as they swam hither and thither with loud cries amid the whirling
eddies. As locusts flying to a river before the blast of a grass fire-
the flame comes on and on till at last it overtakes them and they
huddle into the water- even so was the eddying stream of Xanthus
filled with the uproar of men and horses, all struggling in
confusion before Achilles.
Forthwith the hero left his spear upon the bank, leaning it
against a tamarisk bush, and plunged into the river like a god,
armed with his sword only. Fell was his purpose as he hewed the
Trojans down on every side. Their dying groans rose hideous as the
sword smote them, and the river ran red with blood. As when fish fly
scared before a huge dolphin, and fill every nook and corner of some

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poem by Homer, translated by Samuel Butler
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Eighth Book

ONE eve it happened when I sate alone,
Alone upon the terrace of my tower,
A book upon my knees, to counterfeit
The reading that I never read at all,
While Marian, in the garden down below,
Knelt by the fountain (I could just hear thrill
The drowsy silence of the exhausted day)
And peeled a new fig from that purple heap
In the grass beside her,–turning out the red
To feed her eager child, who sucked at it
With vehement lips across a gap of air
As he stood opposite, face and curls a-flame
With that last sun-ray, crying, 'give me, give,'
And stamping with imperious baby-feet,
(We're all born princes)–something startled me,–
The laugh of sad and innocent souls, that breaks
Abruptly, as if frightened at itself;
'Twas Marian laughed. I saw her glance above
In sudden shame that I should hear her laugh,
And straightway dropped my eyes upon my book,

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poem by Elizabeth Barrett Browning from Aurora Leigh (1856)
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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