High Fashion

I don't have the time or the money To keep on getting fucked up I bought this fashion to look comfy And didn't leave enough for drugs I'm sitting here in J 1's Counting up these funds I think I have a dime and maybe a stick of gum The grinder's empty and I'm feeling pretty dumb Decked in high fashion but a penniless bum Looking at my piece Like please Wanna smoke and still wear Gucci Now I'm on my knees Not praying just searching couch cushions for cheese A little bit of money to help me get some peace For goodness sake give me some shroom tea and Bape Peyote trip into the grave with a smile on my face At least they buried me in red bottoms and a cape Looking like the only guy in hell who has taste Beezlebub has soul But he's staring at my soles Like damn where did get a pair of those in gold I'ma have to slip by and steal his fashion But when he catches on I'd of already switched them to Platinum I don't have the time or the money To keep on getting fucked up I bought this fashion to look comfy And didn't leave enough for drugs Put diamonds in my mouth, call it italian ice In a sober lounge something to smoke would be nice Riding around passenger seat dressed like Mick Jagger Leather pants, gold chains, top hat like Mad Hatter I got a presence to maintain Living so damn vain Retail therapy to break away the pain Empty bong, empty bowl, empty vains Losing my control only sobriety to blame Burnt through my funds Buying all these clothes My shoes are stacked toe 2 toe by the rows I'm trying to look my best Three piece suit pocket watch in my vest No dab smoke exhaled in my breath Hitch a ride up north to pick shrooms in a field Wash the shit off and watch me get into my feels The farmer comes out with his shotgun in hand At least I'm gonna die looking like the fucking man I don't have the time or the money To keep on getting fucked up I bought this fashion to look comfy And didn't leave enough for drugs