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letra de temporary insanity - jaront

intro:

what’s there to talk and talk and talk about?
what’s there to talk and talk and talk about?

hook:

i know you ain’t no good
i know your ways are bad
i’d quit you if i could
but without you i’m going mad

(2x)

first verse:

yo, my tongue on the percussion, interrupting your discussion
f-ck the repercussions. we’re just easing, dusting off
rip that piff up in a dutch and cough. get the lift up and i’m f-cking off
it’s the tree i’m puffing; sh-t, i just can’t get enough of it
can’t f-cking quit. i’m stuck with it. i must admit i love the sh-t
in the past i’ve been depressed, fast inhaling cigarettes
quit without the nicorette. i had business within to stress
and yet i keep coming back. will i need it til my lungs are black?
when will i have enough of that? running, bussing up and back
headed from here to leavitt and pierce for that old tobacco any weather or year
then i go, like i’m joking and sh-t, “i don’t toke cigarettes. i just smoke in a spliff.”
i throw in the piff, rolled with a twist till i’m smoking a spliff every quarter to six
one sec, i’m the man and the next without it, can’t handle the stress
panicked to death. dismantled, perplexed: damaged and wrecked:
frantic and vexed. i landed stranded like i planned it
can’t can it. i’m an addict. (“hey. have a hit”) alright, d-mn it

hook

second verse:

a pattern of planned abuse. steady. ready? can’t stop me man, a loop occurred
the matter of hand: elusive yeti headies got me in a stupor, blurred
yet i’m lofty. not even coffee can stop the oddly feeling glossy choppy copy
a lot of pot tossed with broccoli got me awfully sloppy. got tree?
too much weed to eat is costly. got lost (got lost, got lost) with cool cats
a terrible place; at an unbearable pace. some unprepared for the race. if you knew that
you could be too lax or moved back, with imminent dissonant intellect in effect
been a wreck in the net single images implement infinite synergy indirect
nemesis generous head it is lecherous treacherous effortless method is decadence
exit the precipice. venomous pleasurous. beckoning, yes. the record’s irreverent
and i’m higher. smoking the shire, watching the hobbit. thoughts of the loch ness
pot is the topic. it’s not a narcotic. hot as a tropic. got a lot of: a lot of hypnotiq
for night crawling it’s all dusk. my rhyme’s abstracting like pollock’s
might feel like gollum. i’m hollow high followed by low like hydraulics
while i’m seeking peace. i’m reaching. see, my fears, leaving them by the bayou
breathing easy when need be, yet, the weed is my fuel

hook

- jaront

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