| You got sativa, ignite it
|
| World stiff as arthritis
|
| Dreaming 'bout a crisis, all I fucking hear is sirens
|
| Climates turn to ice and your life turn to lifeless
|
| Sitting on my throne, I’m alone in the silence
|
| First hit the wax, then you exhale the vapor
|
| Economies collapse and you’ll stack just some paper
|
| Running round a maze while they laugh in your faces
|
| Rather burn down the city, get me fucking fifty acres
|
| Slugs is just snails without shells
|
| The perception: evolution fucked them over and failed
|
| But they survive without protection in this jungle they dwell
|
| With giants throwing salt all on their people, can’t consider 'em frail
|
| Spit vinegar in sour times, live under the power lines
|
| I’m just a bag of tumors full of alkaline
|
| All you do is carve them out, sew up any abscess
|
| Go about your business, keep your distance from the dragnets
|
| Backseat driving, passenger traveling, bumming a ride in my own brain
|
| Pointless meandering, using the vanity mirror to break up the cocaine
|
| Loitering, lost in a memory somewhere between a first kiss and a dope vein
|
| Nursing myself as an infant and in the same instant I’m shackled and cuffed and
|
| restrained
|
| How does this fucking pertain to anything other than coping with pain?
|
| All of the time I spent hoping to change, just an obsession with stoking the
|
| flames
|
| Haunted, something hovers over me, I feels its breath
|
| The skeletal projection of accumulated stress
|
| You got sativa, ignite it
|
| World stiff as arthritis
|
| Dreaming 'bout a crisis, all I fucking hear is sirens
|
| Climates turn to ice and your life turn to lifeless
|
| Sitting on my throne, I’m alone in the silence
|
| First hit the wax, then you exhale the vapor
|
| Economies collapse and you’ll stack just some paper
|
| Running round a maze while they laugh in your faces
|
| Rather burn down the city, get me fucking fifty acres
|
| Got sativa, ignite it
|
| World stiff as arthritis
|
| Dreaming 'bout a crisis, all I fucking hear is sirens
|
| Climates turn to ice and your life turn to lifeless
|
| Sitting on my throne, I’m alone in the silence
|
| First hit the wax, then you exhale the vapor
|
| Economies collapse and you’ll stack just some paper
|
| Running round a maze while they laugh in your faces
|
| Rather burn down the city, get me fucking fifty acres |