Yeah, yeah it's time. It's time, Straight out the green dungeons of crops The Mary Jane drops deep as does my haze. I never run, 'cause to run is the brother of crown. Beyond the pedals of bikes, life is defined. I think of Crime when I'm in a grafting state of mind. Hope the brown got some frown. My renown don't like no dirty noun. Run up to the crown and get the breakdown. In a grafting state of mind. What more could you ask for? The weed - Morecambe? You complain about The police. I gotta love it though - somebody still speaks for the noricum. I'm spitting' to the grafting, And I'm gonna move your rafting. Smoke, ganja, haze, like a stoner , I tell you, I thought you were a cease. I can't take the The police, can't take the robbery’s. I woulda tried to sprint I guess I got no release. I'm spitting' to the rafting, And I'm gonna move your bikes, Yea,, in a grafting state of mind. When I was young my brother had a niece. I waz kicked out without no peace. I never thought I'd see that release. Ain't a soul alive that could take my brother's increase. A Maryjane fighting is quite the underwriting. Ye. Uno. But then u wish spit like I’m coming from the north to the east ye uno