The first time

The Devil lit up in Texas, rollin' through the heat,

Lookin' for a soul to smoke, and someone he could beat.

He found a kid in Austin, playin’ licks and blowin’ smoke,

With a golden pipe and calloused hands, .. .. ..and lungs that never choked.

Jesse had a joint so thick, it sparkled like midnight cloudless skies,

He looked the Devil in the eye and said,

-

“You wanna try?”

-

The Devil grinned and lit his flame, his fiddle by his side,

“I’ll play you for that soul of yours,” he said with smoky pride.

Blaze it up, Hit it hard , light that flame,

The Devil’s high and playin’ games.

With a fiddle case and blood shit eyes,

He’ll steal your soul B 'fore the smoke can rise!

So pick that tune and play it true—

Let me tell ya , boy ,

Devil’s got his eye on you!

Verse 2 – Sung]

The Devil played a wicked tune, as fire flew from his fingertips,

thru the smoke, he could feel the darkness grip ,

But thanks to Jesse's stash

He could pluck it fast

the devil could tell he had no move ,

When Jesse hit that ol southern groove

(Southern fiddle instrumental)

.

.

.

(Bridge – Spoken]

That Devil coughed then dropped his bow,

The kush had clouded all his flow.

Jesse smiled, still plucking strong —

That Devil was lucky, he hadn't brought his fuckin bong!!

Now the Devil’s making his way east , still sore from his defeat,

His fiddle bow smelting in the Georgia heat ,

, whole he waits for someone else to beat.

So if you hear a fiddle cry,

or smell stinky stanky pine,

It might just be ol' Jesse's fire,

Creeping up ,

having a good ol time