Tipsy they call it.
Some say the're good.
Come with me into my hood.
I sit here and think.
My brain on the brink,
of falling into the unknown.
I dont want love,
just a good time.
Roll with me to get this dime.
We'll smoke so good,
we won't never come down.
We'll run through the woods.
Find a tune... roll the sounds.
Soar like the eagles,
then kiss the ground.
We'll toke again,
and hit the sky.
This fire I smoke 
keeps me so high.
I'll jump on top,
and ride so hard,
everyone will hear, 
even in the yard.