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Bill walked down a sober road and found his mouth got wet.
He was jonesin' all day long and there was nothin' he could get.
Bill found some year old booze and knew what he would do.
He drank it down, puked on the ground, what was this magic brew?
Soon Bill felt the buzz, so he didn't put up a fuss.
But Bill knew his mind had blew, so he jumped before a bus.
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Bill looked down; upon the ground he found his lifeless shell.
He felt sick. He grabbed his d***.
Bill was bound for hell.
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Down the corridors of hell he walked, through an evil glare.
He looked around, damnation bound, holiness beware.
Bill felt his way down the hall, through the smoky air.
He smelled the blazing horror, and met the Devil's stare.
"Looky here, Mr. Bill, there's something I need from you. Down here it's been dry and I want to get high; so see what you can do."
Bill grasped the Devil's hand and gave it a cowardly shake.
"If it's pot you need, I'll find you weed if it's a deal that we can make."
"So Billy-boy, you're a bettin' man; Now this I couldn't tell."
"Now find some grass or I'll skin your a$$ 'cause now you're f***ed in hell."
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Bill bought his favorite weed that always got him smoked.
If the devil gets high, he'll really fly when he takes in some of this dope.
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Through the gates of hell, Bill returned with his generous bag.
The Devil hissed, he looked pi$$ed.
Bill had brought him shwag.
"I thought that I could trust you Bill, but now I can see I was wrong."
When the Devil got wild, Billy smiled and pulled out his magic bong.
"Looky here, Mr. Devil, to dope I can tell you're new. Don't be alarmed, this pot has been charmed, lets see what it can do."
The Devil's hit was long and deep; it had been a while.
Billy paled, but the Devil exhaled and then produced a smile.
For hours they smoked that wicked weed.
It really wasn't bad.
Billy got boned, the Devil stoned, it was the best s**t he'd ever had.
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Bill's a free man now, no need for kids or wife.
Now that he's in with the devil, Billy's set for life.
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