They come now, you see that? Yep, both of the crews, I told you Now they look like they gonna fight Try 'em on We took this trip to garden grove It smelt like lou-dog inside the van, oh yeah This ain't no funky reggae party, five dollar 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 yeah 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 God All that I can see I steal, my folks don't understand And 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 Gettin' hassled by the man Wakin' 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' my dog up at the pound Livin' in a tweeker pad Gettin' yelled at by my Dad Sayin' I'm happy when I'm not Findin' roaches in the pot Ooh, all these things I do They're waiting for you © MUSIC CORPORATION OF AMERICA; GASOLINE ALLEY MUSIC; LOU DOG PUBLISHING; Bu döküman AkorMerkezi.com'da yayınlanmıştır. http://www.akormerkezi.com