ACID WESTERN
The hippie comes from the age of Nixon
When beatniks all died from their vast addictions
And though he could never write proper fiction
He sure could lie about his condition
I studied with hippies in Boulder, CO
Where they teach everyone that it's cool to be poor
The grads look like Manson when they're out the door
It's no wonder they kill on the Wall Street floor
Now I ain't no hippie but I confess
That I puff the sess to relieve my stress
When I'm in Chinatown on the pen
All the locals think that I'm one of them
I want a stronger molecule
I want to have fun, want to act a fool
Now I'm the bum that annoys the bus
Because I've gotten bored of my cannabis
Cause I'm listening to Happy End
Their blues and country record
While tripping on the 49
I call it Acid Western
The letters look like numbers
I've forgotten how to read
There's something in my third eye
Someone help me find the street
Cause I'm listening to Happy End
Their blues and country record
While tripping on the 49
I call it Acid Western
I haven't felt no oneness
No religious ecstasy
But I hear somebody talking
Through the fillings in my teeth
All these stupid hippies in Wicker Park
Like to act real bad until it gets too dark
I might hit a lick on these fucking narcs
And go down Indiana in daddy's car
Buy a big pointy missile somewhere in Gary
And fill up the Schaumburg cemetery
Even in Woodlawn they'd see the spark
Now the Star Taco is just a skidmark
Hip hop's answer to Dennis Hopper
Must've squeezed too hard when I used the dropper
Cause my spit looking like Kodachrome
You'll need a popper way things are going
Cause I'm coming in with some bars that's harder
Than elbows on retro rotation starters
I bogart the mic, man
I ain't gonna share it
Tongue get the paper
Call me Syd Barrett
Cause I'm listening to Happy End
Their blues and country record
While tripping on the 49
I call it Acid Western
The letters look like numbers
I've forgotten how to read
There's something in my third eye
Someone help me find the street
Cause I'm listening to Happy End
Their blues and country record
While tripping on the 49
I call it Acid Western
I haven't felt no oneness
No religious ecstasy
But I hear somebody talking
Through the fillings in my teeth
When beatniks all died from their vast addictions
And though he could never write proper fiction
He sure could lie about his condition
I studied with hippies in Boulder, CO
Where they teach everyone that it's cool to be poor
The grads look like Manson when they're out the door
It's no wonder they kill on the Wall Street floor
Now I ain't no hippie but I confess
That I puff the sess to relieve my stress
When I'm in Chinatown on the pen
All the locals think that I'm one of them
I want a stronger molecule
I want to have fun, want to act a fool
Now I'm the bum that annoys the bus
Because I've gotten bored of my cannabis
Cause I'm listening to Happy End
Their blues and country record
While tripping on the 49
I call it Acid Western
The letters look like numbers
I've forgotten how to read
There's something in my third eye
Someone help me find the street
Cause I'm listening to Happy End
Their blues and country record
While tripping on the 49
I call it Acid Western
I haven't felt no oneness
No religious ecstasy
But I hear somebody talking
Through the fillings in my teeth
All these stupid hippies in Wicker Park
Like to act real bad until it gets too dark
I might hit a lick on these fucking narcs
And go down Indiana in daddy's car
Buy a big pointy missile somewhere in Gary
And fill up the Schaumburg cemetery
Even in Woodlawn they'd see the spark
Now the Star Taco is just a skidmark
Hip hop's answer to Dennis Hopper
Must've squeezed too hard when I used the dropper
Cause my spit looking like Kodachrome
You'll need a popper way things are going
Cause I'm coming in with some bars that's harder
Than elbows on retro rotation starters
I bogart the mic, man
I ain't gonna share it
Tongue get the paper
Call me Syd Barrett
Cause I'm listening to Happy End
Their blues and country record
While tripping on the 49
I call it Acid Western
The letters look like numbers
I've forgotten how to read
There's something in my third eye
Someone help me find the street
Cause I'm listening to Happy End
Their blues and country record
While tripping on the 49
I call it Acid Western
I haven't felt no oneness
No religious ecstasy
But I hear somebody talking
Through the fillings in my teeth
Credits
Writer(s): Daniel Jiménez
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
Link
© 2025 All rights reserved. Rockol.com S.r.l. Website image policy
Rockol
- Rockol only uses images and photos made available for promotional purposes (“for press use”) by record companies, artist managements and p.r. agencies.
- Said images are used to exert a right to report and a finality of the criticism, in a degraded mode compliant to copyright laws, and exclusively inclosed in our own informative content.
- Only non-exclusive images addressed to newspaper use and, in general, copyright-free are accepted.
- Live photos are published when licensed by photographers whose copyright is quoted.
- Rockol is available to pay the right holder a fair fee should a published image’s author be unknown at the time of publishing.
Feedback
Please immediately report the presence of images possibly not compliant with the above cases so as to quickly verify an improper use: where confirmed, we would immediately proceed to their removal.