I'm a Pothead

You may call me a pothead, I don't care
Is it the chewed on nails or the,
Un-groomed facial hair.
What gives it away?
Please tell me, is it the smell of pot on my breath?
Or the immature views that I have for life and death?
But, even if you told me I'd, probly forget.
Because I, I am a pothead.
And people ask why I smoke,
But the real question is "why you don't?"
Is it government or politics that tell you right from wrong.
It's your choice, flip them off,
Just hit the fuckin bong.
Tell them face to face its with potheads you belong.
They don't fight, they're not mean
They just love to light that green.
I'll fight for that right,
Till i drop dead.
Because I, I am a pothead.
Doesn't matter how old you were when you first smoked.
Cause when you get that good green you're bond to fuckin choke.
Sit with your friends, puff puff pass.
You all begin to smile and have a few laughs.
That's what I love.
That's why I smoke.
It's all that crazy shit that happens when your stoned.
And if I'm stoned lazy,
I'll just lay all day in bed.
Because I, I am a pothead.
Nothing you can say or do will change.
The fact I smoke all fuckin day.
First thing when I wake up.
Then straight up after class.
Light me up that soothing joint.
Throw my feet up, kick back.
Then smoke it, and relax.
Each have their own way to deal with all their stress.
But me, I'll just smoke till I'm dead.
Because I, I am a Pothead.