Lyrics of 'Sweet Sinsemilla' by Mystic Roots

Sweet Sinsemilla is a song by Mystic Roots whose lyrics have countless searches, so we decided it deserves its place on this website, along with many other song lyrics that internet users want to know.

Sweet sensemilla burning in the night
Sweet sensemilla Yeah Gonna make you feel right

I remember the day when
Jah Jah showed me the way
Irie meditation
It is the only way
So don't you abuse it Yeah
Its resource is a must
So build a splif
And pass it to us

As I sit here, I look strait up
And stay in Jah light


I just woke up
I've got fourteen hours to go
Lord knows I won't waste my day on heroin or blow
Cali Herb Cali Herb
Can you feel its effect
Give thanks and praise for
Jah most majestic gift

I sit up on top a my Mystic sound and I burn a mi ganja pipe
Chico cops come and tell me that's not right
I just burn it and pass it 'pon de right
And then dem commin' and dem look pon Natty Dread and them say
"Hey, Natty Dreadlocks, where you come from?
You must have 2 stick a sensi under your tam."
No, Officer, Lord, you must be mad
He only smokes cigarettes, strictly shwag
But I man cootdog smoke the good sensi
I sit up on top a my Mystic sound with my Mystic posse
And then me light it in a bong, smoke upon the chron
Fill it in my lungs, my mind and body strong…

I'm freakin', I'm funkin', I'm ill-smokin' skunk
And I smoke hella grass and I smash like the pumpkins
I feel uplifted, gifted they say, because I stay
Blunted all li-di-di-da-di-day
My rap gets shorter, in the court there's no order
When I reach in my pocket for a 1 and a quarter
Zig-zag, big bag a buddha that be stinky like yo' beaver
Cause I just smoke cannibus-sativa
I leave a roach in your ash tray, blast way
Up in a cloud a smoke while I freak nasty
Ladies love a man because he's fly
But I ain't lovin' nothin' but my high
Lay low, stay low, I'll stay straight to the point
Stay strapped with a bong; in the clip: it's the joint
Keep two in my pocket cause I always love to rock it
I like to smoke a joint with my lady before I knock it
Ashes to ashes dust to dust
Pack another bowl with the sticky green stuff
So ruff, so tuff, I'm straight buddha-blessin'
But on the realla, the Mystic Roots got a question:
Who freaks the funk? The Ill funk-freaka
Smokin' straight: Sweet sensimillia

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