Blunt Combustion

I can't sleep, I can't keep away from the beat It's like I'm 6 feet deep in the ground beneath my feet Unless I'm hittin' the street, and puffin' on weed Kickin' raps and schemes completin' lyrical dreams I mean I'm getting fucked off of blunt consumption Bud combustion, yo, with no interruption Self destruction motherfucker no it's not constructive But fuck it if I'm not at least a little productive Above it, yo, below the radio clamor I'm hammered, fuck ya life of glamour Fuck ya p's and ya q's but please excuse my manners So ballin' you'd confuse me for Kevin Durant or Ted Bundy cuz I kill microphones I find them alone, kill it put its head in a box Wrap the wire round a rock and drown it just down the block Effectively chop, with no electrical shock I kill a mic every day, and then I smoke on a blunt And then I smoke more blunts, I never smoke just once Writin' lyrical stunts, a hazy shuffle through tracks Muffle the critics while I blaze and make stacks That stays intact, I never blow all my dough I just buy a bunch of dope like a couple of O's Every so often, you scoffin', I just be coughin' Then I sell the other half right back for a profit