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we took this trip to garden grove
it smelt like lou-dog inside the van
oh yea
this aint no funky reggae party
five dollars at the door
it gets so real sometimes
who wrote my rhyme
ive 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 theres a reason why my souls unsound
its you
its that shit stuck under my shoe
its that smell inside the van
its my bed sheet covered with sand
sittin through a shitty band
gettin dog shit on my hands
gettin hassled by the man
waking up to an alarm
stickin needles in your arm
pickin up trash on the freeway
feelin depressed every day
leavin without making a sound
pickin up my dog up at the pound
livin in a tweeker pad
gettin yelled at by my dad
saying im happy when im not
finding roaches in the pot
