Its hard to breathe,
Coughing turns to choking,
French inhale burnt your nose.
Eyes are hazy and ultra glossy.
Took more than one swisher to roll it up.
Where the feens at?
Right here in this rotation,
Just keep puffin and passin.
Never been so hungry,
But no food in sight.
Half way gone,
Barely any sight.
People passin hits,
More for me.
Smoke till its roach,
Nothing but paper.
People trippin because you can blow this much weed.
Till then I'll sit back, make believe and puff on these green leaves.
