I wanna start a fuckin garden of pot
Make a forest looking like beanstalks
Roll up green chopped previously
Wrapping paper-made present from the God
I lay back when both soul windows go stained glass
Preach to the choir, speaking fire to snakes like I’m outside when I blaze grass
In my last hours of life, when the light turns black
I’ll be walking through the streets like Christ for smack
Yes, Heron, do drugs with the silly rabbit
While you kids are still young
And when you get old folks, use Kratom