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It’s It Seeds. Yeah, the name’s weird. Like the ice cream sandwich, but not. These are cannabis seeds—actual, viable, sticky little promises of green glory. You plant one, and if you don’t screw it up, you get a plant. A real one. With trichomes like frostbite and a smell that’ll punch you in the face before you even open the jar.
They’ve got feminized, autos, regs—whatever flavor of chaos you’re into. Some people swear by the autos—quick, dirty, done in 10 weeks. Others? They want the full ride. The long veg, the slow bloom, the massive colas that sag like old fruit. It’s a whole thing. You either get it or you don’t.
I tried their Lemon Drip last summer. Grew it in a busted kiddie pool lined with soil and hope. Smelled like citrus and gasoline. Smoked like a dream dipped in jet fuel. I don’t know what they’re doing over there, but the genetics hit. Hard. Not all seeds are created equal—some pop fast, some sulk in the dirt for a week like they’re deciding whether life’s worth it. These? They pop. They grow. They yield. Mostly.
Sometimes you get a runt. That’s life. You can’t blame the seed for your shitty lighting or forgetting to pH your water for three weeks straight. But when you do it right—or close enough—It’s It delivers. No fluff. No weird marketing BS. Just seeds that work, mostly. And if they don’t, you email them and they actually respond. Wild, right?
They’re not trying to be the next big seed bank empire. No glossy packaging with holographic logos. Just a little ziplock and a sticker. Feels underground. Feels real. Like someone’s still doing this for the love of the plant, not the margins.
Prices? Fair. Not cheap. But not that gouge-you-for-a-pack-of-10 nonsense either. You get what you pay for. Sometimes more. I got a freebie once that turned out better than the one I paid for. Go figure.
Anyway—if you’re looking for seeds that don’t come with a side of corporate slime, give It’s It a shot. Or don’t. More for the rest of us.
Just don’t plant them and expect miracles. This isn’t magic. It’s work. Dirty fingernails, late-night pH checks, paranoia when the leaves curl weird. But when it all clicks? When the buds swell and the room smells like a skunk got into a lemon orchard? That’s the payoff. That’s the whole damn point.