|
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 |
