Lyrics: M. Whiman, Dr. Drake, J. Sullivan O. Renau Music: B. Knight Bass: M. Whiman Keyboards: B. Knight Vocals: M. Whiman, M. Gierke Rap Vocals (In Order Of Appearance): M. Whiman, J. Sullivan, O. Renau, Dr. Drake Based off of a continuous piano melody and funky bass line, "The Chronically Ill" is the story of many people in modern day America. The recent economic depression has lead many to question well-being of their family and financial situations as they go through life from all walks. College, working a job and succeeding are many of the topics discussed in this fantastic four and half minutes of commercial pop. Many weeks before the actual recording process began, "I-Funk Allstars" Oliver Renau, Ben Knight and Matt Whiman began brainstorming ideas for a hip hop song that had the same musical progression throughout but let out different moods for each different part. This idea was brought to a reality with a rough demo recorded by Knight of piano and a drum track. The ideas brought on with this demo quickly flooded to Renau when he came up with some sophisticated and grim lyrics in a matter of days. The subject matter of the song was determined with these lyrics: the economic depression. Sullivan and Whiman took over from there writing lyrics that took the idea of Renau's lyrics and making them relevant to the average highschooler. Whiman then added a bassline to the song followed by chorus sung by Whiman and Michaela Gierke. This song was the first one from the project to be proposed, but was thrown away several times and ultimately resurrected giving it the nickname "Rap Lazaraus."  Lyrics: All of this lifetime is slipping away Trying to provide on an income delay You just wanna know that your name will be sound But how can you do that when pay's going down? hardship and pain are all that remains with my faceless shame no one to blame every cold night i lay awake regretting my mistakes lost in heartache listening to the cries children starving false lullabies tears in their eyes we all need to eat we all need a home we all feel defeat when we can't feed our own Drip drip dropping Ticking and 'a' tocking Time keeps on moving Don't show no signs of stopping Don't know what the future holds Just wanna leave the past Gotta find the time and place Where I have happiness at last So who will succeed From here on out? Cheaters are the winners To that there is no doubt Don't you tell me that you're lonely That's the price you pay to win 'Cause when it comes to coming out on top Ain't no such thing as sin, son it's time for Dr. Drake to take the microphone here we go, crunch time I'll bring this beat home get more money by the minute ain't no dough problems here gonna buy this town up so you better stand clear I don't know what to say I'm owning this place breaking down the door putting icing on the cake better get out my way got money and taste if you mess with me I punch your puppy in the face I'm sorry Ms. Jackson I Do hate to inform you But you know, I ain't got nothing To do with your daughter So quit your penny pinching 'Cause it's leaving me dry Everywhere I go Gettin' nickled and dimed Inflation's going up Soon there'll be charge to walk Don't wanna go to college Just to work at Stop and Shop All these different paths leading to the same dead end So go buy a fancy house If there's money left to lend |