Close Encounter

[Verse One: Danimal Lector] It's Danimalzilla, slut, and I'm ill as fuck Chillin' in the buildin', yup Killin' blunts, lookin' and feelin' like a fucking million bucks (2X) Pockets full of piff to puff, pills and such For real, a bunch, plus a vanilla dutch It's Danimalzilla, slut, and I'm ill as fuck Chillin' in the buildin', yup Killin' blunts, lookin' and feelin' like a fucking million bucks Pockets full of piff to puff, pills and such For real, a bunch, plus a vanilla dutch Punk, I ain't givin' up I'll never stop smokin', never stop drinkin' My Mom looks at me like "What the hell are you thinkin'? You're so smart, but so dumb!" I know, um Wait, what was I sayin'? Sorry Mom, fuckin' so drunk Blame it on the alcohol, and Adderal I'm bouncin' off this couch inside a house that's full of padded walls Saturday, I sat at the mall and magically saw Your girlfriend, so I asked if she would mind helping me wax my balls I'm feeling lucky, cause I got my trusty rabbits paw Scratch that, you pack rat, I'm a rabid dog You ain't even average, I'm mad hard, with savage bars My weed is the color of a motherfuckin' Avatar Chillin' on Saturn, not the car I'm a star, headed to Mars, so hop in, we ain't stoppin', not 'til tomorrow I'm odd and bizzare, ask around, they'll tell you I was sent straight from hell, dude God's gonna help... who?