Then there's this:

The Killaloe Rastaman - Rick Reimer
(with gratitude and apologies to Lester Flatt and Earl Scruggs)

Come, we tell you little story about a guy named Bob
A proud Rastaman, didn't want to steal nor rob
But he had to feed his family, things were getting hard
So he plants a little ganja in his backyard
Pot, that is, Acapulco Gold, Sensi tea

Well, the first thing you know, those plants are getting tall
The neighbours come and suss-suss-suss and look over the wall
They said "Hey, Bob! Growing ganja you can't do!"
He loaded up his seeds and he moved to Killaloe.
Hills, that is, swimming holes, shooting stars.

Well, the folks in the hills liked having Bob around
He grew the finest ganja from here to Wilno town
He lived in the woods, didn't do no-one no harm
And the buds on his plants grew as thick as your arm.

Well, there's just one little mix-up about life in Killaloe
There's way too much police, with not enough to do
When rastaman grows ganja it just takes a little time
Till Johnny Law comes to the scene of the crime
Felony, that is, helicopters, tazer guns.

Well the police find so much ganja, that they can hardly wait
They build a great big fire and begin to eradicate
They tell Bob: "You're lucky we don't charge you for your sin!"
Only trouble is, police are standing downwind
From the ganja fire, that is, second-hand smoke, munchies big-time.

Well, the police get high and they forget to look around
They get their lights a-flashing and they leave for Pembroke town
They eat all the food that Tim Horton's can provide
Every doughnut shop got a cruiser outside

Well, the folks in the hills, they smell the ganja fire
They look upon the burning field and cry and cry and cry
Says Bob: "I got a secret tucked up under my hat.
I got three more fields bigger than that!"

Well, the moral of the story is very plain to see
You needn't be an Einstein to fool the O.P.P.
If you are only conscious and prepared to stand tall
Babylon systems surely must fall!