Twelve

let's go smoke under the Willow Tree

we can kill a blunt or two or three

we can hide ourselves in a smokey fog

and write poetry for an unread blog

let's go light up near Vietnam 

maybe we can hit Andres bong

actually, is there any chance

that we can break out our old friend Lance?

let's get turnt up on a Monday night

"Make sure its burns even!" "Pass me a light."

"Nah! Dude, I had to it started to canoe"

And off go The Smartest Idiots I know

It's my turn.  Puff. Puff. Pass Then slow blow

We circle a straight up cigar of a blunt

and slowly get turned down for what

Eleven

Shout out to 

The Smartest Idiots That I know

They function high. 

High functioning on molly, shrooms, and blow

They argue. They yell.

They spit and they swear

Hate 'em or love 'em

I promise...

They don't care

Honey, do not judge them

for the things they do.

Instead, open your mind

You could learn a thing or two

You see, they're happier than you

They're living wild and free.

And all things considered,

that doesn't seem so bad to me.

But you can turn your nose

and walk away

Its your loss.

Just don't complain 

in ten years

when one of them's 

your boss.