I can't see Heaven but I think it's up there somewhere I feel closer to the Devil 'cause they say he lives down under But if I could fly a thousand miles to chill with the man himself I'd probably roll up one big fat one and say thanks for creative hell
But how high do I got to get to see angels in the sky How much smoke I gotta blow to move the clouds to see your side How many nights I gotta pray, how many Sunday's I gotta go How many joints, how many miles, and how high, how high do I gotta go
Sometimes when I'm walking I get goosebumps on my skin Cause I feel like something's stalkin' and trynawalk on my heels And then my spine gets some chills, when I'm strolling rivers and hills And hopping barbed wire fences just to come see what the deal is Fuck the Devil, I'ma rob him with six rounds and a steel Cut his head off, mount it on my wall by all of my deer Fuck it punk, gimme that fiddle so I can leave and go pawn it Hit downtown and buy some seeds and go and grow me some chronic Yeah I'm always rolling stoned but now I'm trying to take flight And smoke a joint with old Jesus and grow some wings over night Yeah watch me cut donuts in clouds past the gates made of gold You shoulda known my soul was too priceless to ever be sold
I can't see Heaven but I think it's up there somewhere I feel closer to the Devil 'cause they say he lives down under But if I could fly a thousand miles to chill with the man himself I'd probably roll up one big fat one and say thanks for creative hell
But how high do I got to get to see angels in the sky How much smoke I gotta blow to move the clouds to see your side How many nights I gotta pray, how many Sunday's I gotta go How many joints, how many miles, and how high, how high do I gotta go
How high do I gotta go How high do I gotta go How high do I gotta go How high do I gotta goTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
