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three houses, one hotel, and it seemed every guy on my street still conversed at the corner. there's always an element to hide; some grams of H' to the breast pocket, weed and some ganja. Green;
I want to be your blunt I want you to roll me up Place your mouth Soft lips on my paper Use your tongue to keep me together Let me feel you
Chanting of Ram hath become the greatest sham That morphs the fanatics into instant Bonds Giving em virtual license to maim and kill Marijuana is the antidote for virus called hatred
Do it all again It's like I'd forgotten why I wanted to stop.
i think that if i take it into too much consideration, the momental magic seems to be shaved away. there were twice as many stars as usual-
sometimes i need love sometimes i need a neatly rolled blunt where the weed won't spill from the bottom and the temporary peace of mind takes me from my problems sometimes i need my mama
filling my lungs with the smooth smoke every hit pushing me higher erasing away the pain of today melting away my fears I want to be high forever.
I like to listen to songs about Jesus getting high So I can feel better about rolling blunts On the floor of a taco bell bathroom Or on my birth certificate
I wake in the morning, And the first thing I do Is start to get high To not think about you. I take a long puff To forget about your sorrow. Take another one in To forget about tomorrow.
Cherry the green on top so the tobacco beneath burns enough and shotgun that shit after it's all milked. A reverse fire-breathing feeling takes over as you exhale and maybe cough once or twice.
The smoke and the screen gives the dark room a milky blue haze and even though you're not home right now, you're all right, because you love your people here. The kush has calmed your anxiety
There are two of me The first me – the real me – is a good kid Does what their parents ask, be nice to everyone, never push the limits The second me is a lost soul A body with missing pieces
Live wild with love in your heart Let the wind rush through your hair as you smoke a little weed
I’ve got couple bong rips Held with a deep grip in my lungs Yeah I got a couple slits Not just the ones that cover my eyelids
Sitting in the room watching you And not just any room Your room But you’re preoccupied So, I’ll wait Looking at you from the corner of my eye I feel like Mr. Hyde
Cherry-red lips Stretched hips Hormones on full throttle Lusting Craving Begging For attention
she worried about him as his family drama drew his cigarette closer as the smoke filled his lungs, time kept getting slower. as the aroma of nicotine filled the air, she could feel and smell his hurt and despair.
He took you to his spot you toked off mini pipes and swapped stories and looked at the city lights. From the top of the Butte. A concert featuring a rapper.
A couch and a loveseat Watching two friends pass a bong, and (finally) extending your hand. She holds the bong for you on her leg, her other hand on the bowl. "All you have to do is breathe."
she droops like a melting candle, eyes glazed, joint smoked. (in so much that the scent of the leaves is nothing like Fall,
I wrote a poem to choke my sorrow. Like a blot of gauze to staunch the blood flow. Drops of blood drop and drip between my toes, from wound that punctured lung like jagged bone,
I've been looking for a place to plant my life. Maybe at a shop, or ship or bar? But not on a farm. For weeds at farms are pulled sight.
Smoke a toke and don't choke.Inhale, let that peppery smoke into your lungs.Exhale and let it out; one hit is all it takes toHave you looking at the world from a different point of view.
stepping into the foyer, a gush of wind hitting me can you smell it on me? my paranoia is getting the best of me, i need to calm down a nice hot showing will cool my nerves
Right now I feel like life is in a pickle. I just ate my last pop sickle. That is right, I don't have a single Otter Pop left to my name. Nobody will understand my pain. I cannot settle my craving with an ice cube.
Hand on hand, skin on skin, touch touch Sliding in your fingertips, touch touch Blood is sauntering, energy is wandering Both through the passageways of my veins
I was walking in the woods one day In the merry month of May (couldn't resist) I was smoking a fatty Hey, what can I say I stopped by this stump I had to take a wee When a big hairy dude
The time has come To put the nonsense aside I've waited all day Now it's time to get high So, I lock the door And I load the bong Turn on the stereo To my favorite song
Roses are red Violets are blue i smoke weed you just got noscoped dank kush 4u ;^)
All I see are memories of your silohoutte I remember the day you left Like it was yesterday You said you couldn't resist her And Ma and I Couldn't overlook the fact that Everytime you came home
She picks up the lighter, And he hands her the leaf. Her body is on fire. She is so ready to leave. Her tears melt away, When she hits the herb. But the pain stays the same,
So here is a story about how I became oblivious to addiction with a substance I've been told was something God had gifted and a gift it was for a while at least no sense of pain and time's existance just ceased
tank on E but i got that stank on me gassed up in this bitch is you higher than me? got a pack a swish a bowl and home made bongs fast food fried nigga im dipped like a sunday cone
I remember altogether underneath the weather, hopes, dreams shining like sun beams. you know what it means I don’t and it seems So filled with passion and the will for action we thought for sure that you would have some traction.
The stoner rolls up his weed. As he licks the blunt it hits him harder than before... he's a loner. No ones around to marvel his perfect roll game. No one is around to call him by his name.
Living in todays' and not tomorrows satisfaction Those choices turn to bad habits It's just a matter of time before they reign havoc The air is tainted, it was never pure The temple is broken, the walls are torn
Never been shown, what to do or to say,shown what is known, when I write and I play.My choices are my own, and my own they will stay,restricted to me, when I wake or I lay.
Some people smoke weed to distract their mind how they feel,cause they don't wanna see the truth, but soon they'll notice it hit's hard and real.A lot of the time this is just for fun,
Now it is March,And thus begins the feudWinter or Spring? Warm or cold?Will the earth be renewed?Sick and tired of bitter wind,Most are ready for Spring.Winter gathers her few supporters
Breathing.Waking up late because IStayed up late.I wasDrinking.He wasAngry.Now I’mTexting.No answer.Texting.No answer.Texting.
I want to make love constantly and get high stay young
Once upon a time I displayed a middle finger with a peace sign
I want to be heard,but I have no voice.
Crickets chirp in the dead of the August night, "Listen, listen, listen to us!" I start to tear up, throat closing around pain, but I am not suffering.
Why must you make me suffer? One error and I am faulty? Why do you uproot my regret and prevent me from my blossom? Even the most delicate rose has its thorns, and you still
Pu Puff Puff Pass *Smoking motion* Pu Puff Puff Pass *Smoking motion* It's like a jungle sometimes so I just roll that Tropic Thunder Roll that Tropic Thunder I stay high to keep from going under
It feels amazing getting took
He walks with his leather jacket slumped over his shoulders and his violet backpack swinging violently from his shoulders. His mouth is a motor,
Ha, my mind is a mess take away my struggle and relieve my stress cause this unhealthy relationship isn't at it's best. Full me with drugs and lets peek at whats next.
The first woman I ever loved She definitely came from the heavens above How else can you be so perfect? The way you smell Sometimes you even have those little red and orange hairs
Wrap your fingers around the bottle, another sip,another swallow. Try to keep your shaking hands still, as you try to down the pills. Welcome to the land of numb, nothing hurts,nothing's fun.
17 and scarred4 years of a hellGroup of friends to hardly none Drama spreading faster than wildfireKnives sharpened and reused on someone else's backBlame being pointed everywhere but the source
i got da weed thata make u ease the cheese that radiates indigo beams dope that lets u cope with reality. in actuality reality may not even be real we r just trapped in a bag and life is the seel.
It starts off as a thought in your head that you slowly try to push away.As days and weeks go by it turns into a question that needs an answer. "Should I?" "Do I really want to?"
From thee Earth it grow One of His very own creations This feeling is going so slow For these radical denominations We express our love in tree Show them we won't stop Partaking with such glee
"Inhale the good Exhale the bad" These words are spoken.. as they rise to a dream of a life they wish they had I try to understand.. Why there is such a strong need for this thing known as "weed".. Or..