I'll smoke a bush---no a tree-- smoke it down to the ground. If no one hears you smoke it will it still make a sound? I'm growin inches for miles and miles for days. My trees are always growin under thousand watt rays. there's no need to push, I still smoke the cush. I'll have a seed to a sprout and a sprout to a bush. Inter peace I have found, my perspective is round. I leave the eight on the ball and plant a tree in the ground. Fill the smoke in my head, so disleksic my thoughts. I put my feet on my shoes and tied my brain up in knots. I tried trippin on those they had me trippin alot. but got my mind out the gutter before it got shot. It's ironic how cronic could put you down on your knees, It's got my eyes shuttin skinney, So pass it back please. I got's more for you!