I smell like Cigarettes and Weed,

Is this what I need?

A high to get me by?

Depression, oppression, and poverty

Needs to experience secession and ultimately

Leave my being.

I'm sick of eating

This bull s*** they feed me

To get by sneakily.

I smell like Cigarettes and Weed,

But I don't smoke,

I just try to leave,

Trying to not be somebody else's joke.

Stressed as I'm pressed against the ropes,

Dressed as I'm from someone's grope

Around my throat.

No identity to identify me,

Yet, I'm expected to be unique.

I smell like Cigarettes and Weed,

Because it creates an ease,

And you can own a moment of peace.

So poor in health and wealth,

We come from this place that's so poor

We cannot even afford a door,

Never mind a proud breadth.

I smell like Cigarettes and Weed,

It's nice and sweet,

Kindhearted and comforting,

Regretful yet pleading.

Here, we fight like it's right,

There is no other way if you stay,

keep killers close if you let your windows close

Because in order to succeed,

you must secede.

I smell like Cigarettes and Weed,

Yeah, that's wjat i need,

A high to get me by.