I'm fucking fed up of this writer's block.
Time is ticking by and I'll feel better when I hide the clock.
I looked at it 4am and thought, I might as well
Smoke all my ganja in an hour, so I could high-five myself.
Now it's 7.30 and I don't have any cheeba left.
'I ain't getting out of bed this early'. That's what my dealer says,
Then he hangs up and I wish he was dead.
That would be sweet revenge.
I feel deep regret when I read a text that says he'll sell a twenty bag for fifteen instead.
Fifteen instead, fifteen instead.
Twenty back for fifteen instead.
That's what my dealer said: twenty bag for fifteen instead.
Fifteen instead, fifteen instead.
Twenty back for fifteen instead.
That's what my dealer said, That's what my dealer said
Fifteen instead, fifteen instead.
Twenty back for fifteen instead.
That's what my dealer said: twenty bag for fifteen instead.
Fifteen instead, fifteen instead.
Twenty back for fifteen instead.
That's what my dealer said, That's what my dealer said