Car packed with speakers
The G's with the 40's
And the chicks with beepers
The northern lights
And the southern comfort
And it don't even matter
If their veins are punctured
All the crackheads
The critics, the cynics
And all my heroes
In the methadone clynics
All you bastards in the I.R.S
For the crooked cops
And the cluttered desks
For the shots of jack
The cabs of meth
Half pints of love
And the fifth's of stress
For the hookers all trickin' out in Hollywood
And for my hoods
Of the world misunderstood
I said it's all good
It's all in fun
Now get in the pit
And try love someone
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I once wanted to be a Gynecologist
But I couldn't find an opening
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