Don’t Fuss or Fight, Get Stoned, Laff at Life
I refuse to spite ‘em dead with anger or hate
I will not let ’em rile me, shout or even curse
Or employ the dark arts to smite their souls
Nor use witchcraft powers to hex 'em dead
Instead I’ll ignore the shit their gobs sprout
Let ‘em wallow in their own festering mire
Their vile bile be in their rotten putrid heart
And their bad vibe and rude malicious jibes
Like a smelly fart get stuck in their throats
Although I wudna want ’em to die or choke
Me I’ll sit back and relax and spark up a jay
Yes I’ll let their words dissipate in the ether
As I chugg upon my potent aromatic reefer
I won’t be upset by a stupid drunken geezer
I’ll turn their bullshit to billshit and laughter
Ganjah will keep me chilled to the ever after
Good reason and harmony will win stupidity
The smoke of blest sacred grass is calming
I won’t let their charming words do any harm
Smoke gets into your eyes, that is its nature
The cosmic joke is a laff to the herb partaker
