Lyrics of 'Pass the Breather' by Vocab Malone
Inhale me my name is THC
I'm the drug of choice for your top celebrity
B-Real I will Sen-Dogs over the Hill like Cypress
Leave you achy breaky Billy Ray Cyrus
I'm just a chemical, subliminal in your mental
Flush your minimal principle way down to the criminal
C'mon ya'll, don't waste your life away
But I can control it, some might say
then why you cravin it? In the night, in the day
yo brother get some help, get it right away
it costs to pay, ya know it costs to play
you could die today, so throw it right away
no debate let me state the face of my case
you don't like yourself that's why you change your fate
change your mind state, blind date date rape
there's a way to escape, from peace to hate
PCP LSD E and free
Base here's a taste cause the first is free
But what do ya pay the doctor
When the hearse takes me?
And what do ya pay the nurse
To try revive me
And what do ya pay the cop
When my need makes me?
And what do ya pay God
When hell bakes me?
And what do ya pay your family?
Neglect and abuse, cause that joint in your hand
Might as well be a noose
So
Pass the cheeba on the right hand side
Pass the breather on the left hand side
Remember way back in little middle school?
Jordan Air was the rule, and DARE was cool?
But now our heroes are from the Beach that's Long
Like Cheech and Chong and leechin off a bong
What went wrong? Is it evil rap songs?
Broads and blunts and gats and thongs
Crack's a monkey on ya back bigger than King Kong
But ya laugh at that and say I don't smoke crack?
But weed and smack and what's after that?
I ask as ya smashed and say pass the stash
Wave goodbye to your cash and hello to MASH
Ya know a hospital, like the old sitcom
but weed gives me peace, so I can sit calm
the bother, my knocka, is why you wanna alter
the water of your daughter and disappoint your Father?
Hydro like an otter, but your brain be getting odder
And when it's time to die, hell be getting hotter
Ay yo, who shot her, ay yo how'd she die?
OD, DOA, cause she went and got high
I'd rather be a nun or a Catholic priest
than a poor slum bum who's addicted to a leaf
ya dumb plant somker, ya funny little joker
shoulda been a chauffeur, a kosher stock broker
instead you a loafer with your picture on a poster
that says don't do dope, uh, or you'll look like that
skinny, ashy, trashy with a yap full of gap
crack kills fast, weed's a little bit slower
you could start with cigarettes and end up a snow blower
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