Potential Vice
I stole Father Time's clock and took out the grains, cooked 'em up, tied off, then shot it into me vein.
And now I'm bleeding.
I took Mother Nature's goods and ingested 'em whole, started trippin, lead to flippin, walkin lost in snow.
So now I'm screaming.
I got Farmer John's spuds put 'em in still, fermented fast, tastes like gas, now I'm guiding a wheel.
My car is weaving.
I grabbed Smith n Wesson steel, it tested nice and right, applied some pressure to the trigger, now it's gettin real tight.
Goodbye I'm leaving.
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