We took this trip to Garden Grove It smelled like Lou-dog inside the van, oh yeah This ain't no funky reggae party, $5 at the door It gets so real sometimes, who wrote my rhyme I got the microwave, got the VCR I got the deuce-deuce in the trunk of my car, oh yeah
If you only knew all the love that I found It's hard to keep my soul on the ground You're a fool, don't fuck around with my dog All that I can see I steal, I fill up my garage
Cause 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 a freeway Feeling depressed everyday Leaving without making a sound Picking my dog up at the pound Living in a tweaker pad Getting yelled at by my dad
Saying I'm happy when I'm not Finding roaches in the pot All these things I do They're waiting for you.