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When I was small enouf to **** da ****** of me mother (13),
I found da great sensation of da *****,
Me uncle Batius make me a sandwich every day,
He know dat I like a da strong cheese,
So he put it in everytime,
I did not know dat da cheese was gangja smoke til much lata,
I neva undastood wy it make me so happy,
until

I *** yo  *****
Dis is ma original poem. Not plagirised.

I walk through the fields of the cow grazing pasture,
I feel the north winds brush gently across my scalp,
The warmth of the evening sunset hugs my sensitive skin,
As I hear the faint swish of grandpa's windmill,
I begin to escape into my head,
A land of happiness and freedom,
Where I can be alone and forget the stresses of life,
I slowly take a drag of the *****,
And the feeling sinks deeper into the back of my head,
I am locked into a trance and the reggae spirit guides me.

Jah feel it
On the eleventh day of Reggae Christmas
My boombastic love gave to me:
11 ragin' reefers
10 lightin' lighters
9 hefty island boys
8 bowls of cereal
7 dabs of oil
6 blazin' bubblers
5 smokin' spliffs
4 grams of purple
3 beautiful bowls
2 boombastic bongs
and a brand new marijuana tree.
The 25 Days of Reggae Christmas
So many people tell me
You should take
a page out of their book

And I just think
*Did you plagiarize
Your whole life
If we all try to be original...well you get the point.
I'm as deep as ya modda.

Ting-ta-ting-ta-ting!

*Boogedy-boogedy-boodegy-boodegy­-shoo-bi-doo-***-shoo-bop
No waaaaaaay!
I hate marijuana.
It is a class A drug for a reason.
It destroys your brain and brings anarchy to the world.

Me looks both ways to see if anyone around
ok mon, now dat da feds are gone, lets get ta business.
Me inhales me blessed ******

**** is cool. It's actually really nice.
If ya t'ink otherwise, den ya better t'ink twice.
Me gonna tell you, why Reggae is my life.
Me love Reggae so much me wish it was me wife.
Marijane is me love. Spliffs and Reefers too.
Kush makes me so hot you'd t'ink I had da flu.
Why should ya smoke herb? Me gonna tell you why.
When ya smoke heaven's grass ya feel like ya gonna fly.
Away from all ya problems. Towards a purposeful end.
Makes ya feel, so nice. ****, you will soon befriend.


Reefer
hErb
Green
Grass
Anus
­Everything Cook and Curry (Reggae term for "Everything is Fine")

*REGGAE
If you are 911, you do not have permission to read this and can't use it in court. Sorry piggy.
de bud me found on de ground
twas as strong as smokin a pound
after me smoked it me rosted a hound
wait not a hound, it was a  pizza
me called up me friend shakisha
me asked if she as some good reefa

but why, why must my bike rust
de andlebars is about to bust
ow me guna catch de bus
me ave to bust me piggy bank
me crying, me loved me piggy bank
me drank me a bottle of coke
me accidentally drank a bottle of soap
me trow up and den shakisha show up
me say me drank me some soap
she say me love soap

hello.
I was out wit me doopas.
I was wailin' on a massive blunt.
Feet up, eased up, havin' a blem time.
All of a sudd'n, de fuzz comes out front.

There's nowhere to hide.
Gotta rid the scene of me stuff.
Look back and de fuzz ain't der.
Decide to take one last puff.

De sirens start shriekin'
Dey're almost here, no where to go.
Do I stick me sliff in de ground?
I stuff it up me nose.

Sense of smell is lost from de heat.
Feels like a fresh poptart was squeezed in me snout.
De burning tingles, very bad, very bad.
About to cry when de cops see me, no time to shout.

He walks a little closer, I cringe.
An island bwai wouldn't last in prison
For de love of Zion, don't get caught.
Finally we're face-to-face, I start ******'

De man looks down at de pool of ****
He asks, "that's the hiding spot you chose?"
He rips da spliff rite outta me snout.
Dat's why you never stuff it up ya nose.
Don't worry, dis didn't 'appen. It's just a joke you nutty kids.
To you, I must be the vegetables your mother told you to eat at the dinner table.
You push me to the side even though you know I'm good for you.
Even though you know your body needs me running through your veins.
You spoon me,
Then when the coast is clear you put me down & pick up something more appetizing on your plate.
I'm just there.
You scrape me to the side & spread me apart to make it look as though you've taken more of me than you actually have.
To give the illusion of health.
An illusion that you're doing what you're supposed to be doing.
But I know better.
I know because I'm the one sitting on your plate, getting cold.
While you consume all that looks & taste better than me,
I go to waste.
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