I take a toke
and be broke
for that bloke
who sings a note
ain't black thought
but my smoke
from these lungs
and that girl
with my tongue
ain't as wise
as my young
who learn from
the best.

to press the breast
of my lady's vest
makes no contest
for i am
the ice cold breath.

get in my way,
I wouldn't wanna be ya.
I burn slow like
a shot of hennesey-a.
stuck in your dome
from the chrome
microphone
let it be known
that the clouds rain sunshine on my parade letting me be my own charade of ill mental escapades in your domain.
hey, i'm only tired.
who's to blame?

-if i had my way
i would've been a killer
i would have given them
violence, violence
and shotguns shotguns
if i had my way-