I devote a few minutes of my time each day
To sit down and write a little rhyme for play
..Smoke a blunt or two of the highest grade
Have me walkin on the moon like Michael J
And for a short time I think I might just stay
Up here above the world and the flying planes
Looking down and seeing the violence plague
Sweeping over people like a tidal wave
But as the rhyme hits eights, my high is fading -
just like all the other lights in space
And the descent back to this grimey place
Is one that'll make a persons mind inflate
With the notion that the potion is light some haze
To escape all the pressures of life these days
Cuz compared to the crime and these lying fakes
Chronic is my friend and being high is great