| I sentence every sensible soul
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| To bold reflection intelligence and definite goals
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| Choose direction and never let the negative hold
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| Question the mould they set you in and never dissolve
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| Clever and old? |
| Whatever I’m a cynical man
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| With cynical plans to settle in and spit for the fans
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| And make beats for my psyche, they’re like
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| «How d’you sleep at night?» |
| I said I don’t
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| I smoke weed until I see the light
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| And please don’t forget where your dreams are
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| I’m all hands up for some quiche and a clean start
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| I don’t wanna find myself dreaming as my peeps pass
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| Skeech ask the question and leave after lesson four
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| Lesson talk: weed is your enemy, less is more
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| And everyone’s a friend to me I guess unless we’ve ever fought
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| I never thought anything would ever be as good as this
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| Scribbling my book of wish, twisted with a crooked wrist
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| And this is for my pot rubbing wishes
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| I’ve still got my sister mother hot food and missus
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| Feet up in the summer as I cotch food to Christmas
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| And distance myself from any cocks goons or dickheads
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| Pisshead, a little but I try
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| I’ve been taking smaller sips mate I ain’t gonna lie
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| I’m not as mad as I used to be, people seem to humour me
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| Instead of piss me off and leave me fuming in a room of freaks
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| Beef I used to need, and feed upon it greedily
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| What a fucking waste of time and weakness it seems to me
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| So speak to me, deeply as an equal
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| And teach me to be every piece of every living sequel
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| And help me learn a lesson, I don’t deserve the tension
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| To speaking out of bravery I won’t reserve the question
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| And don’t be scared of answers if you’re brave enough to punish me
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| It’s funny seeing fun love and meerly under currents deep |