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.