In"Hell"
We in hell to get high
Its why
We can never reach the sky
Or get by
With one piece of pie
If you're wondering why
your throat hurts
Its the soul
of that grass
That makes it hard to grasp
The fact that you couldn't last
Only silent get past
No words spoken
When you take its purpose
Life of that grass
The reason we are not fast
Slow motion whn I hit the purple
Life is too often cast
asunder by humans
Assuming
lives were made for the past
Taking for granted
If we do not understand it
and then wondering why we cant even take care of the planet
Niggas vanish
Smokin on that grass
The reason I say we
are now free at last
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