Who’s Got the Herb? – Song and Lyrics by 311

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Discover the poetic beauty in ‘Who’s Got the Herb?’ by 311. This lyric breakdown takes you on a journey through the artist’s thoughts, emotions, and the story they aim to tell. From clever metaphors to evocative imagery, we delve into the nuances that make this song a lyrical masterpiece. Whether you’re a fan of 311 or a lover of well-crafted words, our detailed analysis will give you a deeper understanding and appreciation of this song.

Who’s Got the Herb
2 for 1, 5 for 4, half ounces
Quarter pounds, LB’s and kilos
What are we looking for
Sinsemilla
What are we hoping for
What are we hoping for
Sinsemilla

Who’s got the herb is what the young boys ask me
Who’s got the herb and then elders tell me
Who’s got the herb is what the young girls ask me
Whos’ got the herb not thee dread-locks
Skunk, bud, indica
Sativa, my reefer, la arriba
Skunk, bud, indica
Sativa, my reefer, la arriba
When we roll a big one
It feels so right
When we smoke it in our bong
It feels so nice

Whos’ got the herb is what the young boys ask me
Who’s got the herb and then the elders tell me
Who’s got the herb is what the young girls ask me
Who’s get the herb not thee dread-locks
Who’s got the herb
Who’s got the herb
Who’s got the herb
Who’s got the herb What I’m talkin’ ’bout

Cramacaca cayaca die shocka fryaca
From a coppa yes I’m tellin’ you
Cramacaca cayaca die shocka fryaca
From a coppa
What are we looking for
Sinsemilla
What are we hoping for
Sinsemilla
Here we go!
Skunk, bud, indica
Sativa, my reefer, my reefer
Who’s got it Who’s got the herb
Who’s got it Who’s got the herb
311 whoa Who’s got the herb

311’s got the herb and you can’t avoid that
And ya do want your hands with a fat blunt sack
Chill with indica and guiness, steer clear of white powder
Kick it you sing it in a space, go out to play it louder

Plague my brain with no cocaine
I don’t wanna, I don’t wanna go insane

Roll up the bones if you can affix a word to smoke it
Except for you’re doomed in the morning if you bake the hills
Oh and I get up to the sun and then I smoke out
It’s begining to smell like Mota and I’m down with no doubt, sing

Plague my brain with no cocaine
I don’t wanna, I don’t wanna go insane

Every country ’round the world,
The people smoke the herb,
Prohibition is absurd
The people want it