We took this trip to garden grove. 

It smelt like lou-dog inside the van. 

oh yea, This ain't no funky reggae party, 

$5 at the door. 

It gets so real sometimes, 

who wrote my rhyme? 

I've got the microwave, got the vcr. 

I got the duece duece in the trunk of my car. 

oh yea, If you only knew all the love that I found, 

It's hard to keep my soul on the ground. 

Your a fool; don't fuck around with my dog. 

All that I can see I steal. 

I fill up my garage. 

cuz in my mind, 

music from Jamaica all the love that I found,

pull over there's a reason why my soul's unsound.



It's you,

it's that shit stuck under my shoe

It's that smell inside the van

It's my bed sheet covered with sand

Sitting through a shitty band

Getting dog shit on my hands

Getting hassled by the man

Waking up to an alarm

Sticking needles in your arm

Picking up trash on the freeway

Feeling depressed every day

Leaving without making a sound

Pickin up my dog up at the pound

Livin in a tweeker pad

Gettin yelled at by my Dad

Saying I'm happy when I'm not

Finding roaches in the pot



oh, all these things I do.. They're waiting for you