Yeah she dipped out,
smoked all my weed then she flipped out.
Left in my slumber, waited ‘til I passed out.
And on my dresser was a paper and her number,
I filled up with grass and I burned it, for summer.
You’re right, I am a rotten bastard. I admit it. But I’ll tell you something. Even though I’ve got a lot of hate inside, I’ve got some friends who ain’t got hate inside. They’re filled with nothing but love. Their only crime is growing their hair long, smoking a little grass and gettin’ high, lookin’ to the stars at night.