| How many hours of my life
|
| Have been spent hitting the pipe?
|
| Blackened tar that’s within me
|
| I should scrape my lungs for all the THC
|
| Loss of brain cells
|
| Short attention span
|
| Self control is gone
|
| But I…
|
| I’m a slave to the Chron
|
| No point to fight back, the weed has won
|
| I’m a slave to the Chron
|
| Resistance is futile I’ve know all along
|
| With every toke inhaled I crawl closer to the grave
|
| I live in fear the police will take my pot away
|
| War and death are everywhere, life’s become a joke
|
| So why not take this stress away within this cloud of smoke?
|
| So many hours of my life
|
| Have been spent hitting the pipe
|
| Blackened tar that’s within me
|
| I should scrape my lungs for all the THC
|
| But I…
|
| I’m a slave to the Chron
|
| Tight green grip grown of the earth is strong
|
| I’m a slave to the Chron
|
| 20% of the earth can’t be wrong
|
| Slaves to the Chron
|
| Stirring restlessness inside of me
|
| Addiction to quell, unreal agony
|
| It’s in my blood and it’s in my skull
|
| Without my nuggets the world just seems dull
|
| Dull!
|
| Slave to the Chron
|
| How many hours of my life
|
| Have been spent hitting the pipe?
|
| Blackened tar that’s within me
|
| I should scrape my lungs for all the THC |