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Motorbreath Seeds—Jesus. You open the jar and it’s like someone slapped you with a greasy wrench. That heavy, diesel funk, thick as a mechanic’s overalls after a 12-hour shift. Not subtle. Not sweet. Just raw, unapologetic stank. You either love it or you leave the room gagging. No in-between.
These seeds? They’re not for the faint-hearted growers. Motorbreath (sometimes Motor Breath, depending on who’s scribbling the label) is the bastard child of Chemdog and SFV OG. That alone should tell you something. It’s like breeding a pitbull with a chainsaw. You get power. You get teeth. You get something that doesn’t play nice with amateurs.
Germination? Solid. Not perfect, but solid. You’ll get some stubborn ones—little rebels that take their sweet time popping. But once they do? Boom. Vigor. Thick stalks, dark leaves, that classic OG stretch if you don’t train her right. Indoors, she’ll test your patience. Outdoors, she’ll test your fences. Smells start leaking out around week 4 of flower, and by week 7? You better have your carbon filter dialed in or your neighbors are gonna start asking questions.
And the high—oof. It’s not playful. It’s not creative. It’s a sledgehammer to the dome. First hit, you feel your eyes sink. Second hit, you forget what you were doing. Third hit? You’re horizontal. Couchlocked. Maybe drooling a little. It’s medical-grade sedation wrapped in a flavor profile that tastes like burnt rubber and garlic. Sounds gross, right? But somehow it works. Like, weirdly well.
Yields aren’t massive, but they’re respectable. Dense, greasy nugs that look like they’ve been dipped in motor oil. Trichomes for days. And the bag appeal? Disgustingly beautiful. You crack a bud and it’s like peeling open a toxic flower. Sticky, loud, dangerous. People either lean in or back away.
I’ve grown her twice. Once in coco, once in soil. She liked the coco better—fed heavy, drank like a sailor. In soil, she got a little moody. Yellowed early, threw a tantrum around week 5. But the end result? Still fire. Still that unmistakable Motorbreath punch.
Honestly, if you’re looking for something delicate, floral, or “uplifting,” just walk away now. This ain’t that. This is for the night owls, the pain patients, the stoners who want to forget their own names for a few hours. It’s for people who like their weed loud, rude, and a little bit scary.
Motorbreath Seeds. Grow ’em if you dare. Smoke ’em if you can handle it.