The purple touches me now,
the green tastes just like a cloud
that makes me spin around
in my head filling it abound.
The shit I see disgusts me
and I live to simply breathe
to see the end of the day
where I smoke that lovely green.
God forgive me I need relief
I’ve got an attitude disease
and I can barely even sleep
without clouds from sticky.
People talk I want to ask them
what about their own sins?
I don’t know where to begin
Lord slap off this shitty grin.
Ignorant I listen to the lies calm
I can impress Cheech and Chong.
I feel so much better especially
as I sit and listen to songs.
I don’t care I love the purple
strands of the really good kush.
When times look dark in my abode
I smoke in and in my pulse push.