[Intro]
Yo!
Goddammit!
[Verse 1]
Yo, did you hear they legalized weed in Oregon?
I'm buzzing so bad that I'm on the floor again
f** pot, give this who*e ah pen-yen
Cocaine, smack, meth, or hallucinogens
I don't care about gra**
But you've got your damn head up your a**
Your eyes are locked on lasers
If you ain't realize Portland's got an NBA team
Called the damn Blazers, and we can't be suspicious
Let me mention the Denver Nuggets
And you try telling me that this sh**'s fictitious
I'm telling you, Illuminati's been naughty
It's time to learn karate and flush its members
Down the damn potty
Don't smoke weed unless you wanna be a KKK clansmen
A Nazi, master of kamikaze, who once was a loved man's man
The ganja will addle your brains, rattle your chains
Two potheads in a brawl, then I guess that it is
Battle of the slain
Because your life is over, four-leaf clovers
Ain't gonna get you out of this one
You chose a different leaf, moreover, you can't avoid her
Put one goddamn blunt in your mouth
And d**h will be waiting on your doorstep
Waiting for you to open the door
So he can punch you in your f**ing cortex
Tell you you look gorgeous, conjure up a swarm of hornets
Clench your throat with forceps, dress you in a corset
Pick you up and throw you into a f**ing vortex
Yo!
Goddammit!
[Verse 2]
On a Tuesday morning, I woke up in a ditch
Without forewarning, I had a stomachache
And was hungry as a b**h
I couldn't remember why I was there
Not a thing circled my brain about my whereabouts
This, um, alcoholism's dividing my life apart
Like a schism, I feel like a tool imprisoned
In a world of self-loathing, like I'm bred to be wry
To myself, you asking why? It's my health
It's fading speedily because I'm greedily
Drinking all the booze that I can and
I'm becoming a drunken ba*tard
And I can't accept change, so I've become
A stuck-in-the-past turd, and every night I get plastered
I ask life to slow down, but it just keeps going faster and faster
Almost like every time I take a sip, it's another disaster
I can barely drive, I'm so f**ed up
I bashed my head on the dashboard and crashed
Gore and gashes, but still things could've been mad worse
I try so f**ing hard, but I can't get this sh** mastered
Like an angel was waiting for me and I just walked right past her
Goddammit, I feel like a basket case
I feel like this sh**'s irreversible, like my casket's placed
And there's no way out of this predicament
I'm just so sick, I'm in sh** condition and
This once innocent man is now so washed up and belligerent
So f** it, I give up
I'm going back to that ditch to lay askew
f** a harmonica, I'm playing the kazoo
I'm filth and I've got problems out the wazoo
Yo!
Goddammit!
[Verse 3]
Seymour bu*ts is an example of the Americana
That spreads all the way from Susquehanna
To the wetland banks of Louisiana
Riding my sleigh in the street running over grandmas
Like they went and pissed off Santa