Smoke - Michael Christmas, Krondon

All we know is ooh, la la la

And who shot ya

Blunt smoke, gun smoke

Why you so gung-ho?

My mind is jumbled

Yet I always fumble

I dream to winning

Like five Royal Rumbles

Like back to, back to, back to, back to, back to

Waking up to glass shatter

The gun splash ya

I’m feeling like the Mad Hatter

I’m ass-backwards

The screaming shit like, «Call back-up!»

Like, («Call back-up!»)

They seen police, they all scatter

Like, boy back up

But nothing really matters when you broke

Day-dreaming about infinity

While I’m watching Xfinity

My TV on silent while I’m searching for some titty, b

Mom’s in the next room, I’mma use the restroom

And, memories don’t live like people do

They always remember you

Cause my Uncle Alexi was the best dude

Then I heard the news

And I was praying for a flesh-wound