[Intro: Peter Finch x Ricky]
Limosa Nostra, CT
"I don’t have to tell you things are bad. Everybody knows things are bad. The dollar buys a nickel’s worth. Banks are going bust. Shopkeepers keep a gun under the counter. Punks are running wild in the street and there’s nobody anywhere who seems to know what to do, and there’s no end to it. We know the air is unfit to breathe and our food is unfit to eat, and we sit watching our TVs while some local newscaster tells us that today we had fifteen homicides and sixty-three violent crimes, as if that’s the way it’s supposed to be! We know things are bad – worse than bad. Thеy’re crazy."

[Verse: Ricky Hil]
Bitch I'm bad, no Michael Jack
Morphine tabs, mushroom caps
Lеt her sip straight Jack tic tac
Lyrical practice, strategical tactics
Ima hippie ima activist
Fuck singers, models, actresses
And ima prolly smoke half of this
Or the whole thing, it don't really matter bitch
The sour diesel smell like cat piss
Take a hit, then I do the adlib
I got, I got 2 P's one dream
They got no breeze no lean

[Hook]
My mother said I get too stoned
But I told her i'd be better off alone
My girl said I get too high
But I don't care let the time pass me by
Light a blunt for the bad times
All the times when you really wish you had the time
Light a blunt for the bad times
(I'm seeing Limos everywhere)
For the times that you really wish you had the time
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