i think I'm ready to quit commercials sets the precedent the truth is ruthless with the smoothest of pestilence i tried to finger point what ashes to anoint till i found allow that couldn't strip joint at the hip selling point was demographics the younger the better, your brother would sell' er some antics antics, zany is the brain you get de-fried but the companies are hungry for this distant design or the youth culture supulca, two users and doomed futures, an industry for the heartless business man business plans are in-demand but this man be drastic cause they're nothing more American than smoking someone's bones from out the closet they probably just have decapitated names cold-gated scums with that home on the range pages of scripture about pain and evictions with a field of caskets, a modern Damascus
into my abode humble stumbling over opposing numbers crumbled pillars under which a mother wouldn't know comfort but let me get this straight, you seem to avoid the subject of leaving zig-zag's in my room, how fitting, now getting upset with the blue smoke floating in my attic the window might be open but the epilogue is tragic see, I'm not your average kid, ma deader scene crowds slangin dang it, my basement was a green house hanging at my work bench, playing games, lighting matches and sir, you don't have a job so your lighting the assets I'm grinding my aspects i except this from your contest the last cat in your line left my mother snowblinded but coke floats...when your dealing with a dreamer that man took her for a ride and left her at the cleaners bad blood cousin, this is the last place i have left and when i die i don't wanna choke on my last breath
New Jerusalem, i pass an alley with an only daughter and a suit to use and hands to dip a jay in holy water rolled with care, coin-instruction manual wrapping for the blunt butts to come in this actual happening she's lesser for knowing more he just turns and says "probably" drinks at elevation than what preserves dead bodies and that's what she was doin, eyes that hope to learn that the smoke had a voice, that burning bush that spoke to her the door next to her was church for misdirected people the ministers were on a chase that was less than steeple evil pains, lastic gain, act so strange that bearded old man seemed his being was inside stained glass i look away hear doctors asks infected patients for cash to scratch like they were passing collecting plates my boy "Chuckles" quietly claim me "it's only dope it doesn't make frankincense it's holy smoke"Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
