Resin High
by Mike Defendant

When my wallets looking dry,
a resin high will get me by.
Scrape the bowl, start to smoke.
Hate to say it, but you'll choke.
When you do, I said you would.
Give it a minute, you'll feel good.
Take a rip, feel the blast.
Ease your mind, forget your past.
These times, they get old,
At least I've got the poor mans gold.
The mine is cashed, its a drought.
Until I bust another out.
Start the process, once again.
This here pipe is my zen.
When I come down, If I do.
I'll pack a bowl for me and you.