High Times - LP Version Lyrics
| Song | High Times - LP Version |
| Artist | Cypress Hill |
| Album | Original Album Classics |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| 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 |
| 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 bluntrollers 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 zigzag 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 |
| 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 bluntrollers 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 zigzag 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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