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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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