5.
Most of my friends smoke weed,
But I don’t care that’s just me,
America’s supposed to be free,
But people treat nature like crap and smoke leaves,
The one’s that don’t come from trees,
You walk down the road with swag smokin’ a blunt,
Then you look up at the sun,
Thoughts starting to deepen,
Glancing over at me swearing it’s a human,
Your humor is professional just like Martin,
Reaching in the inside pocket for lighter,
And notice the action is bitter,
If you make the right choice to stop people say you’re a quitter,
When you stop the use don’t turn to boomers,
Because those are real danger,
I am your friend and I would like you to stop,
But you walk right over me just like the floor and a mop.