Woke up this morning, I was achin’ to taste it
and cravin’ to blaze it, but I’m hatin’ all the time I’ve been wastin’.
I need to face it: been changin’ and it isn’t for better.
I used to rhyme all the time, but now erase every letter.
And the words don’t stick unlike the smoke in my chest.
Fog in my mind is so thick. I know I'm not at my best
and twenty one is too young to live a life for your lungs.
It feels likes the drugs I've taken simply cut out my tongue.
Now I’ve been blazin’ paper, but I’ve also torched relations.
Sayin', "nah, we'll hang out later" to my friends outside rotation.
Stayin’ home alone and stoned. I’m racking up Facebook clicks,
a marathon of Game of Thrones, and a bag of kettle cooked chips.
My thesis is I need to beat this recreation turned to weakness.
Ditched the weed and smoking pieces with the hopes of mental freedom.
Stopped dropping my cash on a stash, but I’m still toking the pipe when it’s passed
and I’m still bitin’ the line when it's cast. I swear one day I'll make it last.
It’s been months since I wrote this song and I still haven’t gotten along with the idea of detox.
I listen to Greg, Mike and Ryan’s tracks and I can’t help but be amazed at the art each of them have created.
And me? I’ve been too stoned to even create an instrumental to house my lyrics.
Too high to provide more than sixteen bars for something that you’ve waited too long for.
And for that I’m truly sorry.