My Friend Is Addicted to Morphine

Stepped up to the M to please that junk hungry roar
See that oxy-contin don’t work for him no more
He be like T-spotting’s Mark, supine on the floor
Half asleep all day, counting incipient snores

Dope fiend on the mope lean, smokes dat cheeba straight green
Existential Philosophies in his sweet dreams
Its Satre vs Dosty listening to the Wu’s cream
A chess game that symbolizes he a dope queen

I’m not liking the way this is starting to sound
It’s lockdown in the toilet from morn to sundown
It truly breaks my heart to know no one has found
A cure for the junk hungry cells that kill and drown

Smack attack, my raps aren’t fat, god please save my
Friend and that, he just confused, he don’t wanna die
Motherfucker reads Gandhi when he is not high…