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A G A We took this trip to garden grove G A G It smelt like Lou Dog inside the van. Oh yeah This ain't no funky reggae party, 5 dollars 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 You're 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 their waiting for you
Written by Bradley James Nowell, Eric John Wilson, Floyd I. Gaugh Iv
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