The green grass of my home is guarded by a wrought-iron fence and a mastiff
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Chard, onion, raštanj, tubers, thorns, tomatoes and važola
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I get up at nine dawn to water and pluck the weeds
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And the heritage shines like new as the birds chirp from the roof
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There is no idyll on the street, I prefer not to be paranoid and hide
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Everything stays behind the gate, I have no plans to be a dealer
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I'm old, so it's useless to take off shoelaces, belts, suspenders
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I sit down at home, pick up the regulator, waterpipe and brning reggae
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Now I need legalization, fat ice cream and jokes
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They say that the sun is after the rain, when they will legalize that shit more
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That the summons never arrives because the plant from the garden smells
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That I can sit down when it's a beautiful day outside and roll like a man
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And that I am neither pressing nor afraid that the piece is smoking and the bazd is spreading
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That I can walk freely through the city, that I don't run to the shelter from the package
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My tap is full, fuck the law, they're going to jail for the heads
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The problem is for the sake of the device, and for a little longer you are behind bars
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They write those fines and ask for money, shit unnecessarily because of a little grass
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Now I need legalization, fat ice cream and jokes |