I will drive three hours in the dead of night
I'm falling asleep at the wheel but I got you in my sights
And I know we're both running low, but the black gold coats our pipes
And I just passed through Giddings so I should see you soon
But this night it is so fucking dark with the clouds covering the moon
And we're both scraping the bottom of our bags, but we still got that black goo
And it seems, more often than not
I'm smoking resin instead of pot
I've stripped them stems and I've checked all them seeds
And there aint nothing but this big old ball of resin staring back at me
I wish I could go out and I wish I could re-up
Get me a bag full of green busting at the seams that is heavy to the touch
But any bag I get tonight I'll assure you this, won't be much
Well that's cause what we want and what we need are two different things
You know I want my bong loaded to the top with the nicest of greens
But I'll settle for a pipe, a lighter, and a knife if you know what I mean
And it seems, more often than not
I'm smoking resin instead of pot
I've stripped them stems and I've checked all them seeds
And there aint nothing but this big old ball of resin staring back at me
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