[Intro] Check it, kid… Yo, I’m weedin’ out the phonies, circle locked, no light slips through, Just me and my green-eyed demon, lurkin’ in the gloom. She’s straight from the dirt, loc, roots deep in the floorboards, Never flinch when I raid the stash for another score. [Verse 1] 2 AM shadows creep, munchies hittin’ like a curse, She don’t judge the fiend in me, just feeds the hunger worse. Keepin’ it blunt, no sugar-coat lies, Sparkin’ this resin-soaked funeral pyre for the skies. Haze thickens, visions twist when I spit these tales, Chronic don’t fade, it haunts, never pales. No fake pipin’ dreams or preacher bullshit advice, Just a sticky pact, keep the demons quiet tonight. [Chorus] If you huntin’ a ride-or-die that’s rotten to the core, This Mary with the serpent eyes is what I’m cravin’ more. No stress, just West Coast dread in the swing, In the Temple of Boom, she reigns infernal queen. [Verse 2] We rollin’ deeper now, cypher sealed in smoke, Herbal essence got me snipin’ from the shadows, loc. Target lames, leave ‘em ghosts in the dust cloud, Me and my Jane build trust that’s burial-ground loud. She packs that heat slow-burn, never sparks the beef, Just smothers rage, turns the beast into sleep. Puffin’ ancient wisdom through the resin filter, Elevated fortress — we bulletproof, no quitter. [Chorus] If you huntin’ a ride-or-die that’s rotten to the core, This Mary with the serpent eyes is what I’m cravin’ more. No stress, just West Coast dread in the swing, In the Temple of Boom, she reigns infernal queen. [Verse 3] Bong to blunt, versatile venom in the vein, No drama, just this chill-ass plague we maintain. Sticky icky clings like guilt to the soul, Fills every crack, makes the shattered feel whole. Late-night confessions under blood-moon skies, Philosophizin’ death while the real world dies. No chase needed, she’s fused to my side, In this land of the lifted, where the damned reside. [Bridge / Ad-lib Section] Raise them lighters high for this unholy bond, Through smoke and cracked mirrors, we march beyond. She’s the antidote to chaos, salve on the scorched, In the circle of green rot, we learn the torch. No fadin’, this flame’s eternal black fire, Cypress Hill filth, keepin’ it dire. Peace to the growers grindin’ in the dark, the pioneers twisted, In the haunted temple, forever enlisted. [Outro] [instrumental]
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