My teeth are going to shatter, But it doesn’t matter The smoke enters my mouth, Goes south, Coating my lungs, Scraping the membranes off of my tongue. I don’t sing…I sung Before cigarette’s won. When I think about em I think “Give me one, please.” “Don’t Mutherfuckin’ tease.” “Get on your mutherfuckin’ knees!” I know it, Cause I ho it. I can’t breathe when I take a hit and I can’t breathe when I don’t, shit. The feeling remits, my jaw muscles feel like a muzzle The reason I quit becomes a puzzle Cause speed down two weeks and I’m like an infant with a special gift Addiction. Right about now I could be Phillip Morris’s number one missionary, pick a word in the dictionary and I’ll justify why my brain activity looks like a chunk of Italy or a piece of Swiss cheese as I nicotease my cilia without remorse. I will quit, of course, But I will always be smoking in my head.