My teeth are going to shatter,
but it doesn’t matter.
The smoke enters my mouth,
scraping the membranes off of my tongue,
coating my lungs.
I don’t sing,
Before cigarette’s won.
When I think about ’em I’m like
“God, I’m dumb.”
I mean….give me one,
I’ll give you my keys.
Don’t mother fucking tease
Get on your motherfuckin’ knees!
I know it
Cause I ho it.
I can’t breath when I take a hit
and I can’t breath when I don’t, shit,
the feeling remits.
My jaw muscle feels like a muzzle
The reason I quit becomes a puzzle
Cause speed down two weeks and
I’m like a newborn with a special gift:
Right about now I could be Phillip Morris’s number one missionary
Pick a word in the dictionary
and I’ll justify why my brain activity
looks like a chunk off Italy
or a piece of swiss cheese
as I Nicotease my cilia without remorse.
I will quit, of course,
but I will always be fucking
smoking in my head.