Close Encounter

[Verse One: Danimal Lector]

It's Danimalzilla, slut, and I'm ill as fuck
Chillin' in the buildin', yup
Killin' blunts, lookin' and feelin' like a fucking million bucks
(2X)
Pockets full of piff to puff, pills and such
For real, a bunch, plus a vanilla dutch
It's Danimalzilla, slut, and I'm ill as fuck
Chillin' in the buildin', yup
Killin' blunts, lookin' and feelin' like a fucking million bucks
Pockets full of piff to puff, pills and such
For real, a bunch, plus a vanilla dutch
Punk, I ain't givin' up
I'll never stop smokin', never stop drinkin'
My Mom looks at me like "What the hell are you thinkin'?
You're so smart, but so dumb!"
I know, um
Wait, what was I sayin'? Sorry Mom, fuckin' so drunk
Blame it on the alcohol, and Adderal
I'm bouncin' off this couch inside a house that's full of padded walls
Saturday, I sat at the mall and magically saw
Your girlfriend, so I asked if she would mind helping me wax my balls
I'm feeling lucky, cause I got my trusty rabbits paw
Scratch that, you pack rat, I'm a rabid dog
You ain't even average, I'm mad hard, with savage bars
My weed is the color of a motherfuckin' Avatar
Chillin' on Saturn, not the car
I'm a star, headed to Mars, so hop in, we ain't stoppin', not 'til tomorrow
I'm odd and bizzare, ask around, they'll tell you
I was sent straight from hell, dude
God's gonna help... who?