This is a song about "Dry"

Doing cocaine, pretty dry on a church day

What the feigns say, few roaches you need spray

Left out to dry like a big bag of buds,

Stay gold, stray old, maturing means that your life sucks

Frightening, so fucking frightening

Dry land , but its my fucking

And i ain't worried bout a damn thang, with unconditional love

Until that shit would dry up, memories would dangle rough,

Hope all over again, we can start

Anyway pay me now it's time for dry art

I been blowin ghanja my mouth dry i need some drank

I'm right back in it dead yummy and her mildew stank

With feelings that we're dry

Ima tell you that's a lie, lie, lie

You is not hip then i can not coach her

I got these dry fish telling lies, sinner,