by Go South
published on
Copy a coffee and put it atop of the copier,
Call in a sub,
Put my cock in your cochlea
Coppin' that club sorta crap,
What you call all of that?
Man I'm callin' a cab,
I'm a cub wearin' cap,
Tuppleware plastic,
It's full of that mother and packets of
Durries,
Don't worry,
I'm past all of that.
Man I asked for a cap,
And some glass I can rack,
After an hour,
A bath,
With a bat and a camera,
And grass,
And a snorkel for when it goes black,
Wanna talk to you.
Nah,
Man it's whack and it's awkward,
I feel sorta awful
I just wanna walk with you.
Nah man,
We're watchin' Aladdin',
With shit had to dack in the mornin',
Corporeal.
Lips whisper crisp and',
Inaudible.
Think, 'think of shit, you ain't talkin' dude.
You still just sittin' eatin' all the food.'
Just had to think and ignore the mood.
And watch out to where all the water moves.
A buzz at the door,
Man we order groove.
Take a quick whiff,
It's two forty soon,
It's four twenty,
Spoons and pills plenty,
Boy,
We hit wenty,
Lose a quick twenty,
Boy,
You have any
Ciggies,
I keep pausing'
I go for indie in all this,
Wind
And I'm bingin' that Dawson,
Creek,
Thinkin' I'm awesome.
Isn't it sweet,
Pity I'm meek,
And fuckin' into that weed
Just give me a week,
And I'll have em bars,
By the foursomes.
And pass out
Of course,
It's too far out to porches,
That ain't fucked up.
Pretty hard gettin' torched,
Man where my dealer at?
Man where my dealer at?
Man, I'm feelin' scat,
This ain't real and that,
Ain't the real time.
Least I hope not.
Cos I gotta work,
And I ain't got a comma in my fuckin' words.
Gon regret that,
Last acid tab.
Gotta get a cab.
That's eighty bucks that I never had.
Man I better nap.
I ain't give a fuck,
For that lesser crap.
Gotta keep returnin' to these chemicals,
I love it how they fuck me up.
I get it medical,
I'm safe as fuck.
I neverdose,
And never really sober,
Floaty,
Smoke a cone.
A motorola,
Only got a phone for gettin' toasted though.
I'm smokin' all yo marajuana bro.
