High Times (Letra)

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Now this some baaad weeed…

B’Real:
The very first time I hit the weed I was young
Coughin up a lung, high strung, back in ’81
Goin to school, hittin the buddah behind the bleachers
Comin to class high, sellin the lye to the teachers
Nickel bag, nickel bag, dime to a nickel
Sellin joints to the honeys suck it like an icicle
Others wanted the 40 but I wanted the weed
While everybody was runnin out, I was plantin my seeds
Homegrown, backyard boogie, I’m still stoned
Got my weed plants taller than your telephone’s corner
I can remember when I could only get sess in those days
Now I’m rockin that chocolate thai, skunk and the haze
Roll a fat one, pass it to the left don’t front
But I hate it when they don’t take the seeds out the blunt
A bunch of blunt-rollers are like rookies on the field
Spillin the weed plant fuckin dookies with no skill
I should write a book, how to roll it then pass it
Light it, grow it, sell it and then divide it
Mr. Greenthumb, Dr. Weed, I proceed to give the herb man what they need
True indeed, blow your fuckin smoke up in the sky
And get high with your bong or your philly or dutchess give me a light

Chorus:
Grab the weed up, pack it in, put it in the pipe
Light it up, smoke a bowl, we puffin the lye right
Put your finger on the hole and hold it in brother
Take a puff, that’s enough, and pass it to another

Get the weed sack, smoke it up, til it’s all gone
No roaches up in the ashtray, smoke up all the bomb
I usta spend money but now I’m growin the crops
But I hate it when the pigs throw a raid on the spot
It was once said I smoke so much weed, by a brother
That I look like the nigga on the zig-zag cover
Maybe I usta look like that way back when
When my nigga Sen Dog was around sippin on the Hen
Let the fly rhymes smother you with the scent of the skunk
We got the High Times cover shows you how to roll a blunt
Quarter pound, quarter pound, pound to a quarter
Makin trips to Mexico runnin down to the border
Long hairs, bald heads, dreads and punk rocks
Kids of all colors be puffin it down the block
I got the weed on lock with all the hydro methods
Call me Puffy cause I makin and takin a hit record
Blow your fuckin smoke up in the sky and get high
With the bong, philly or dutchess, give me the light

Chorus

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High Times (Letra)

Madonna

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Now this some baaad weeed…

B’Real:
The very first time I hit the weed I was young
Coughin up a lung, high strung, back in ’81
Goin to school, hittin the buddah behind the bleachers
Comin to class high, sellin the lye to the teachers
Nickel bag, nickel bag, dime to a nickel
Sellin joints to the honeys suck it like an icicle
Others wanted the 40 but I wanted the weed
While everybody was runnin out, I was plantin my seeds
Homegrown, backyard boogie, I’m still stoned
Got my weed plants taller than your telephone’s corner
I can remember when I could only get sess in those days
Now I’m rockin that chocolate thai, skunk and the haze
Roll a fat one, pass it to the left don’t front
But I hate it when they don’t take the seeds out the blunt
A bunch of blunt-rollers are like rookies on the field
Spillin the weed plant fuckin dookies with no skill
I should write a book, how to roll it then pass it
Light it, grow it, sell it and then divide it
Mr. Greenthumb, Dr. Weed, I proceed to give the herb man what they need
True indeed, blow your fuckin smoke up in the sky
And get high with your bong or your philly or dutchess give me a light

Chorus:
Grab the weed up, pack it in, put it in the pipe
Light it up, smoke a bowl, we puffin the lye right
Put your finger on the hole and hold it in brother
Take a puff, that’s enough, and pass it to another

Get the weed sack, smoke it up, til it’s all gone
No roaches up in the ashtray, smoke up all the bomb
I usta spend money but now I’m growin the crops
But I hate it when the pigs throw a raid on the spot
It was once said I smoke so much weed, by a brother
That I look like the nigga on the zig-zag cover
Maybe I usta look like that way back when
When my nigga Sen Dog was around sippin on the Hen
Let the fly rhymes smother you with the scent of the skunk
We got the High Times cover shows you how to roll a blunt
Quarter pound, quarter pound, pound to a quarter
Makin trips to Mexico runnin down to the border
Long hairs, bald heads, dreads and punk rocks
Kids of all colors be puffin it down the block
I got the weed on lock with all the hydro methods
Call me Puffy cause I makin and takin a hit record
Blow your fuckin smoke up in the sky and get high
With the bong, philly or dutchess, give me the light

Chorus

High Times (Letra)

Rage Against The Machine

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Now this some baaad weeed…

B’real:
The very first time i hit the weed i was young
Coughin up a lung, high strung, back in ’81
Goin to school, hittin the buddah behind the bleachers
Comin to class high, sellin the lye to the teachers
Nickel bag, nickel bag, dime to a nickel
Sellin joints to the honeys suck it like an icicle
Others wanted the 40 but i wanted the weed
While everybody was runnin out, i was plantin my seeds
Homegrown, backyard boogie, i’m still stoned
Got my weed plants taller than your telephone’s corner
I can remember when i could only get sess in those days
Now i’m rockin that chocolate thai, skunk and the haze
Roll a fat one, pass it to the left don’t front
But i hate it when they don’t take the seeds out the blunt
A bunch of blunt-rollers are like rookies on the field
Spillin the weed plant fuckin dookies with no skill
I should write a book, how to roll it then pass it
Light it, grow it, sell it and then divide it
Mr. greenthumb, dr. weed, i proceed to give the herb man what they need
True indeed, blow your fuckin smoke up in the sky
And get high with your bong or your philly or dutchess give me a light

Chorus:
Grab the weed up, pack it in, put it in the pipe
Light it up, smoke a bowl, we puffin the lye right
Put your finger on the hole and hold it in brother
Take a puff, that’s enough, and pass it to another

Get the weed sack, smoke it up, til it’s all gone
No roaches up in the ashtray, smoke up all the bomb
I usta spend money but now i’m growin the crops
But i hate it when the pigs throw a raid on the spot
It was once said i smoke so much weed, by a brother
That i look like the nigga on the zig-zag cover
Maybe i usta look like that way back when
When my nigga sen dog was around sippin on the hen
Let the fly rhymes smother you with the scent of the skunk
We got the high times cover shows you how to roll a blunt
Quarter pound, quarter pound, pound to a quarter
Makin trips to mexico runnin down to the border
Long hairs, bald heads, dreads and punk rocks
Kids of all colors be puffin it down the block
I got the weed on lock with all the hydro methods
Call me puffy cause i makin and takin a hit record
Blow your fuckin smoke up in the sky and get high
With the bong, philly or dutchess, give me the light

Chorus

High Times (Letra)

Donell Jones

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Little snow white, she is sleeping 24 hours a day
She’s got a right to be lazy, flat out of reasons to breathe
And it’s cold baby, yes it’s cold
But everything is relative can’t you see we’re living in

High times, dig the new domain
Living through high times, just don’t crash my spiritual plane

Little snow white, she was hungry
Told to go out and graft for it
At the end of the rainbow she was mind blown
To be staring at a crock of shit
And it’s hard baby, yes it’s hard
But with a little intuition you can shift position in the

High times, touch the magic stone
Living through high times, pick up that spiritual phone.

Frittering packs of refuseniks, too drunk to muster any contempt
10 ways to relax on a cruise ship, one way to cover the rent
I’ve whored myself around enough to know, baby
You don’t come with the customers and smile when you’re spoken to in

High times, catch the cosmic vibe.
Living through high times, hey, has ginger baker died?
Living through high times, my planet’s all out of line
Living through high times, man, just like ’69

High Times (Letra)

Cypress Hill

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Written by jay kay, toby smith, stuart zender and derrick mckenzie

You don’t need your name in bright lights
You’re a rock star
And some thin foil with a glass pipe
Is your guitar, now yes it is
Little angela suffers delusions
From these high times
She’s been cleaning up,
Since she was fourteen
On the main line
And her hunky funky junky,
Of a boyfriend
Got her on late nights
With her skirt tight
Woah she’s a wild thing, letting it all swing
God bless our high times

Don’t you know that last night
Turned to daylight
And a minute became a day
Last night
All my troubles
Well they seemed so, so far away
Searching my reflection
For a glimpse of, an other me
I’ve got to get away from these high times
All these high high times
Cause these hight times
Are killing me

Now high times go on
And on and on
High times rock your mind yeah

This twisted crystal kingdom
Where you live your nine lives
And your head spins
With purple cyclones made of dexadrine
And when the phone rings
You think bad things
Well these are high high
High high times yeah
In any backstreet when you take a hot seat
Make sure you check your flight times
Oh now mama

Don’t you know that last night
Turned to daylight
And a minute became a day
Last night
All my troubles
Well they seemed so, so far away
Searching my reflection
For a glimpse of, an other me
I’ve got to get away from these high times
All these high high times
Cause these hight times
Are killing me

Now drop it this time

Paranoia will destroy ya
Paranoia will destroy ya
Paranoia will destroy ya
Paranoia
Paranoia

Don’t you know that last night
Turned to daylight
And a minute became a day
Last night
All my troubles
Well they seemed so, so far away
Searching my reflection
For a glimpse of, an other me
I’ve got to get away from these high times
All these high high times
Cause these hight times
Are killing me

La la la la la
High times (oh yeah)
We’re living in high high high times yeah