Sublime Album

Artist(s): Sublime

Cover Art

Sublime Sublime Cover Art

Tracklist

Garden Grove

length: 4:22
producer: Paul Leary
mixer: Paul Leary
engineer: Stuart Sullivan
turntable: Marshall Goodman
writer: Bradley Nowell, Eric Wilson, Bud Gaugh

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 **** 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 **** 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 **** 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.

What I Got

length: 2:52
producer: David Kahne
mixer: David Kahne
engineer: Eddie Ashworth
organ: David Kahne
acoustic guitar: Michael "Miguel" Happoldt
turntable: Marshall Goodman
composer: Bradley Nowell, Eric Wilson, Bud Gaugh
lyricist: Bradley Nowell
Early in the morning, risin' to the street
Light me up that cigarette and I strap shoes on my feet
Got to find a reason, a reason things went wrong
Got to find a reason why my money's all gone
I got a dalmatian, and I can still get high
I can play the guitar like a **********ing riot

Well, life is too short, so love the one you got
'Cause you might get run over or you might get shot
Never start static I just get it off my chest
Never had to battle with no bulletproof vest
Take a small example, take a tip from me
Take all of your money, give it all to charity

Love is what I got
Within my reach
And the Sublime style's still straight from Long Beach
It all comes back to you, you'll finally get what you deserve
Try and test that you're bound to get served

Love's what I got
Don't start a riot
You'll feel it when the dance gets hot

Lovin', is what I got, I said remember that
Lovin', is what I got, I said remember that

(That's) why I don't cry when my dog runs away
I don't get angry at the bills I have to pay
I don't get angry when my Mom smokes pot
Hits the bottle and goes right to the rock
****in' and fightin', it's all the same
Livin' with Louie dog's the only way to stay sane
Let the lovin', let the lovin' come back to me

Lovin', is what I got, I said remember that
Lovin', is what I got, I said remember that

Lovin', is what I got, I said remember that
Lovin', is what I got, I said remember that

Lovin', is what I got, I said remember that
Lovin', is what I got, I said remember that

Lovin', is what I got, I said remember that
Lovin', is what I got, I got I got I got I got

Wrong Way

length: 2:17
producer: Paul Leary
mixer: Paul Leary
engineer: Stuart Sullivan
trombone: Jon Blondell
writer: Bud Gaugh, Eric Wilson, Bradley Nowell
Annie's twelve years old in two more she'll be a whore
Nobody ever told her it's the wrong way
Don't be afraid with the quickness you get laid
For your family'll get paid
It's the wrong way

I gave her all that I had to give
I'm gonna make it hard to live
Salty tears running down to her chin
And the ruins up her makeup I never wanna live

A cigarette pressed between her lips
But I'm staring at her ****
It's the wrong way
Strong if I can but I am only a man
So I take her to the can
It's the wrong way

The only family that she's ever had
Is the seven horny brothers and a drunk-*** dad
He needed money so he put her on the street
Everything was going fine till the day she met me

Happy are you sad, want to shoot your dad
I'll do anything I can it's the wrong way
We talked all night and tried to make it right
Believe me **** was tight
It was the wrong way

So run away if you don't want to stay
'Cause I ain't here to make you, oh no
It's up to you what you really want to do
Spend some time in America
Dubstyle

She'll give you all that she got to give
But I'm gonna make it hard to live
Big salty tears running down to her chin
And it smears of her makeup I never wanna live
So we ran away
And I'm sorry when I say that straight to this very day
It was the wrong way
She took a hike it don't matter if I like it or not
Because she only wants the wrong way

I gave her all that I had to give
She still wouldn't take it, whoa no
Her two brown eyes are leaking like salty tears
It still ruins her makeup and never want to give

Same in the End

length: 2:37
producer: Paul Leary
mixer: Paul Leary
engineer: Stuart Sullivan
writer: Bradley Nowell, Bud Gaugh, Eric Wilson
Down in Mississippi where the sun beats down from the sky
They give it up and they give it up and they give it up
But they never ask why
Daddy was a rollin', rollin' stone
He rolled away one day and he never came home

It ain't hard to understand
This ain't Hitler's master plan
What it takes to be a man
In my mind, in my brain
I roll it over like a steamin' freight train
It ain't hard to ascertain

You only see what you want to believe
When you light up in the back with those tricks up your sleeve
That don't mean I can't hang
But the day that I die
Will be the day that I shut my mouth and put down my guitar
Sunday morning hold church down at the bar
Get down on your knees and start to pray
Pray my itchy rash will go away

Back up y'all it ain't me
Kentucky Fried Chicken is all I see
It's a hellified way to start your day
If I make you cry all night
Me and daddy gonna have a fist fight
It ain't personal, it ain't me

I only hear what you told me to be
I'm a backward-*** hillbilly
I'm **** Butkiss
You know I lie
I get mean, I'm a thief in the dark
I'm a ragin' machine
I'm a triple rectified *** son of a *****
Rec-tite(tm) on my *** and it makes me itch
I can see for miles and miles and miles
My broken heart makes me smile

In my mind, in my brain
I go back and go completely insane
It ain't personal, it ain't me
If I make you cry I might
Be your daddy at the end of the night
Take a load from my big gun

You only see what you want to believe
When you creep from the back
I got tricks up my sleeve
Twenty four seven the devil's best friend
It makes no difference
It's all the same in the end

April 29, 1992 (Miami)

length: 3:54
producer: David Kahne
piano: David Kahne
mixer: David Kahne
engineer: Eddie Ashworth
programming: Marshall Goodman and Dave Aron
turntable: Marshall Goodman
saxophone: Todd Forman
other instruments: Michael "Miguel" Happoldt
composer: Bradley Nowell, Marshall Goodman, Michael "Miguel" Happoldt
(I don't know if you can, but can you get an order for Ons, that's O-N-S,
Junior Market, the address is 1934 East Anaheim, all the windows are
Busted out,... if he wants to)

April 26th, 1992
There was a riot on the streets
Tell me where were you?
You were sittin' home watchin' your TV
While I was participating in some anarchy
First spot we hit it was my liquor store
I finally got all that alcohol I can't afford
With red lights flashin', time to retire
And then we turned that liquor store into a structure fire
Next stop we hit, it was the music shop,
It only took one brick to make the window drop
Finally we got our own P.A.
Where do you think I got this guitar that you're hearing today?

(Call fire... respond Mobil station. Alamidos in Anaheim, it's uhh flaming up good)

When we returned to the pad to unload everything
It dawned on me that I need new home furnishings
So once again we filled the van until it was full
Since that day my livin' room's been much more comfortable
Cause everybody in the hood has had it up to here
It's getting harder, and harder, and harder each and every year
Some kids went in a store with their mother
I saw her when she came out she was gettin' some Pampers
They said it was for the black man
They said it was for the mexican
But not for the white man
But if you look at the streets, it wasn't about Rodney King
It's this ****ed-up situation and these ****ed-up police
It's about comin' up and stayin' on top
And screamin' 1-8-7 on a mother ****in' cop
It's ain't in the paper, it's on the wall
National guard
Smoke from all around

(Units be advised of an attempt 211 to arrest now at 938 Temple, 9-3-8
Temple, many subjects with bats trying to get inside the CB's House, they're trying to kill him)

Cuz' as long as I'm alive, I'ma live illegal

Let it burn
Wanna let it burn, wanna let it burn
Wanna wanna let it burn
(I feel insane)
Riots on the streets of Miami
Whoa, riots on the streets of Chicago
On the streets of Long Beach
In San Francisco
Riots on the streets of Kansas City
Tuskaloosa, Alabama
Cleveland, Ohio
Fountain Valley, Paramount, Vista Buelle
Eugene, Oregon
Eureka, California
Hesperia
Santa Barbara
Winnemucca, Nevada
Phoenix, Arizona
San Diego
Lakeland, Florida
****in' 29 Palms

(Need a unit to, structure fire and numerous subjects looting)
(10-15 to get rid of this looter)

Santeria

length: 3:04
producer: Paul Leary
mixer: Paul Leary
engineer: Stuart Sullivan
writer: Bradley Nowell, Eric Wilson, Bud Gaugh
I don't practice Santeria I ain't got no crystal ball
I had a million dollars but I'd, I'd spend it all
I could find that Heina and that Sancho that she's found
I'd pop a cap in Sancho and I'd slap her down

All I really want to know
I already know
All I really want to say
I can't define
It's love that I need
But my soul will have to wait till I get back and find
Heina of my own
Daddy's gonna love one and all
I feel the break, feel the break, feel the break and I got to live it out, oh yeah

I swear that I all really want to know
All I really want to say is I got mine and I make it
That love make it go, my soul will have to

What I really want to say, ah baby
What I really want to say, is I've got mine
And I'll make it, yes I'm going up
Tell Sanchito that if he knows what is good for him
He best go run and hide
Daddy's got a new .45
And I won't think twice to stick that barrel straight down Sancho's throat
Believe me when I say that I got somethin' for his punk ***

What I really want know, ah baby
What I really want to say is there's just one way back
And I'll make it, yeah, my soul will have to wait

Seed

length: 2:11
producer: Paul Leary
mixer: Paul Leary
engineer: Stuart Sullivan
composer: Sublime
Janie always said I was a mess
Sorry bout that mess
I made her bleed
I'm planting my seed
Still I knew it could take it if I opened up the rhythm
I knew it could make it
I hope her parents love her
So feelin the acid on the brain
Still I got that frame I made
Her bleed yeah she wants that lovin you see
Well if you live you wanna give or get old
And if you never knew that we get old you live it up
You get old believe me when I say
It's the same shit everyday
But I got to know my place
And if you don't it smacks you in your face
I know I know her parents love her
So billyed back in 1983 what did you do for me
I made her bleed
I'm planting my seed
I knew we could make it
I only knew that the bitch would break it
I hope her parents love her
So my God look at me
If he had to go I know
I know I'm barely lovin' my holy creed
You never knew that was what you need
Oh my god honestly believe it or not its a disease.

Jailhouse

length: 4:54
producer: Paul Leary
mixer: Paul Leary
engineer: Stuart Sullivan
percussion: Marshall Goodman
writer: Neville Livingston, Clement “Coxsone” Dodd, Bob Marley
And I won't make love to you
And I feel love, feel love

Jailhouse gets empty
Rudy gets plenty
The baton stick gets shorter
Rudy gets taller
Can't fight against the youth
Cause we're strong and they're the rude rude people
Can't fight against the youth
Cause we're strong and the rude rude people

Baby get down
When I was a youth in 1983
It was the best day of my life, had the eighty nine vision
We didn't fuss or no fight
When all the little daughters wanna be my wife
My vision
It was playin' on my guitar, on my guitar

I had to be there
I had to be there
I had to be there
I had to be there

When the rhythm, playin'
I know that I'm gonna be there yeah
Bud Gaugh will be singing there
And Eric Wilson will be bangin' up there, yea
Oh and we'll be all singin', with version, with version
Reggae version
Version, version, version oh

What has been told to the wise and up-rooted
It's gonna be revealed unto babes and Sublime
Rudy Rudy Rudy
Can't fight against the youth, right now
Them are rude, rude people
Can't fight against the resistance, oh right now
Them are rude, rude people

We gonna rule this land among children
We gonna rule this land

Cause when that rhythm it was playin' on my guitar
On my guitar

I had to be there
I had to be there
I had to be there
I had to be there

Oh when I was a youth it was the best day
It was the best day of my life
We had the eighty nine vision

We didn't fuss or no fight
When all the little daughters wanna be my wife
When that rhythm, it was playin' on my guitar
On my guitar

I had to be there
I had to be there
I had to be there
I had to be there
Had to be there

Jailhouse gets empty
And Rudy gets plenty
Baton stick gets shorter
Rudy gets taller, taller
And fight against the youth
Cause we're strong, them are rude, rude people
Can't fight against the youth

Pawn Shop

length: 6:07
producer: Paul Leary
mixer: Paul Leary
engineer: Stuart Sullivan
composer: Bradley Nowell, Bud Gaugh, Eric Wilson
Down there at the pawn shop it's only way to shop
Down there at the pawn shop if it's not in stone
Down there at the pawn shop at no end, no way to shop

Down there at the pawn shop what has been told
Albino made of stone just remember that it's flesh and bone

So, why I'm down here at the pawn shop
Down here at the pawn shop, down here at the pawn shop, down here at the pawn shop
What has been sold, not strictly made of stone
Just remember that it's flesh and bone

And I have heard, like dike-a-bird yeah
But just remember that it's flesh and bone
So why I'm down here at the pawn shop..down here at the pawn shop

Go! Right! Huh that's right

Down here at the pawn shop it's a nifty way to shop
Down here at the pawn shop it's another sold
Down here at the pawn shop what has been sold
Not strictly made of stone just remember that it's flesh and bone

What has been sold not strictly sold please remember that it's flesh and bone
Down here at the pawn shop..down here at the pawn shop

Down here at the pawn shop..down here at the pawn shop-yop-yop
Hu ooh go! see

Paddle Out

length: 1:16
producer: Bradley Nowell and Michael "Miguel" Happoldt
engineer: Eddie Ashworth
writer: Eric Wilson, Bud Gaugh, Bradley Nowell
I never thought that when I grew up I would be in a band
And travel to all the best spots in the land
I'm not here to brag or boast
I'm just here to tell you 'bout the spots that I love the most

Natural bridges on a clean west swell
Breaks over the reef like a bat out of hell
Stockton Avenue gets hollow and mean
And on a big day it works like a machine
Outside Stockton gets hot like a glove
Swift St. John's St. into Michell's Cove
Big Steamer Lane makes you wish you were a trout
When it's mackin' so hard only two dudes paddle out

A huge Summertime South swell hit when I'm in my hometown
I'm a surfside boy, is where I can be found
Or up and down the coast
Checkin' the spots that I love the most

The Ballad of Johnny Butt

length: 2:12
producer: Paul Leary
mixer: Paul Leary
engineer: Stuart Sullivan
writer: Rick Selga, Kevin Roach, Mike Davis
Johnny Butt was a man with a real strong will to survive
He just keep pushin' on even though he was barely alive
So shoot it up shoot it up it just don't matter
Johnny says he wants go do it
Says he wants to kill a cop

We've got a brand new dance
It's called we've got to overcome
We've got a brand new dance
It's called we've got to overcome

So Johnny just keep pushin' cause the streets are yours
There'll come a day when all that **** won't matter
So shoot it up, shoot it up, it just don't matter
When you're resisting anyway

We've got a brand new dance
It's called we've got to overcome
We've got a brand new dance
It's called we've got to overcome

So Johnny just keep on pushin' cause the streets are yours
There'll come a day when all of that **** won't matter
So shoot it up, shoot it up, it just don't matter resisting anyway

We've got a brand new dance
It's called we've got to overcome
We've got a brand new dance
It's called we've got to overcome

Burritos

length: 3:56
producer: Paul Leary
mixer: Paul Leary
engineer: Stuart Sullivan
percussion: Marshall Goodman
writer: Bradley Nowell, Eric Wilson, Bud Gaugh
I don't want to go and party,
I don't want to shoot the pier,
I don't want to take the doggie for a walk,
I don't want to look at naked chicks and drink beer,
I don't want to do a bong load, and go and wrench on the car,
I don't want to hose the dog **** down,
Cause I ain't even gonna get out of bed,

I ain't gettin',
I ain't gettin' out of bed today,
I ain't gettin',
I ain't gettin' out of bed today,

Keep on skankin' Ronnie,
Skank the night away,
But the time is coming,
For us all to pay.

I don't want to watch no porno,
And I don't want to play guitar,
I don't want to spank the monkey,
I don't want to go down to the corner bar,
And I ain't even got to listen
To all the stupid **** you got to say.
I don't want to do a god damn thing.
I don't want to,
Want to leave my bed today
I don't want
Want to leave my bed today

Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey

Keep on skankin' Ronnie,
Skank the night away,
But the time is coming,
For us all to pay

I don't want to eat burritos,
Or read about OJ.
No I don't want to get a head rush
Cause I ain't even gettin' out of bed today
I ain't got to leave my bed

I ain't gettin',
I ain't gettin' out of bed today,
I ain't gettin',
I ain't gettin' out of bed today,
No, no, no, no, no, no

Keep on skankin' Ronnie,
Skank the night away,
But the time is coming,
For us all to pay

Under My Voodoo

length: 3:26
producer: Paul Leary
mixer: Paul Leary
engineer: Stuart Sullivan
writer: Bradley Nowell, Eric Wilson, Bud Gaugh
Be it your guide is so much to love
And you can hide your love its true
It's the freedom game
You can see it every day,
Cause your freedom ain't free

Come on down, I know how
I'm gonna make you so feared.
Don't you know it ain't no thing before
So don't take more than you need
It's somethin' that I'll do later,
Now it's over
It's not my fault

Under my voodoo
It's under my voodoo

Pray that I leave you high and dry
Pray you can make me cry
If your faded, put it in my prayers
I damn my feeling, I roll on
I tell you the truth
It ain't no thing
If you want to get real dry, one thing though
Gonna kill for it, more, more, it's not my fault, it's got me,
And I'm gone, gone, gone, gone, gone, gone

Under my voodoo
Under my voodoo
It's under my voodoo

Lord, hey, voodoo
Lord, hey, voodoo
Lord, hey, voodoo
What 'cho want to, want to, want to do

Get Ready

length: 4:51
producer: Paul Leary
mixer: Paul Leary
engineer: Stuart Sullivan
slide guitar: Paul Leary
percussion & turntable: Marshall Goodman
writer: Eric Wilson, Bradley Nowell, Bud Gaugh
Some folks say smoking herb is a crime,
If they catch you smokin' they're bound to drop the dime
Insufferable informa crazy fools wait
With their fingers crossed for you to break the rules
And in the evening when we try to jam,
We like the music loud in this here band
We let the bass line drop as loud as we can stand
Somebody always gotta turn informa for the man
I want to know right now is there one of you in the crowd are you gonna
Call 911
And spoil all of my fun
You crazy fool I'm in the mood
Get ready come on now, load up the bong, crank up the song,
Let the informa call 911
And when security police force want to arrive
Don't try to run, don't try to hide
Just pull out the nine, pop in the clip
And let one slip into these crazy fools

Caress Me Down

length: 3:32
producer: David Kahne
mixer: David Kahne
engineer: Eddie Ashworth
organ: David Kahne
percussion: Marshall Goodman
writer: Bradley Nowell, Bud Gaugh, Eric Wilson
Mucho gusto, me llamo Bradley,
(glad to meet you my name is Bradley)
I'm hornier than Ron Jeremy,
And if you wanna get popped in your knee,
Just wipe that look off your bati face

You hate me cause I got what you need,
A pretty little daughter that we call Mexi, and,
If you wanna get beat physically
It will be over in a minute if ya

So she told me to come over, and I took that trip
And then she pulled out my mushroom tip,
And, when it came out, it went drip, drip, drip
I didn't know she had the G.I. Joe, kung-foo grip

[Chorus]
And it went, uhh
And the girl caress me down, uhh
And that's that lovin' sound, it went uhh
And the girl caress me down, uhh
And that's that lovin' sound

When I kiss Mexi, she makes me feel horny,
Cause I'm the type of lover with the sensitivity,
When she, kiss my neck and tickle me fancy,
The right kind of lover on Sunday morning.

En el otro lado, es donde vivi,
(On the other side is where I lived )
Con mi'hjita, que se llama Mexi,
(with my girl, who's name is Mexi)
Su hermana, si me quier,
(and her sister; she wants me)
Y ahorita, tenemos un bebe,
(and we have a baby)

Sus padres, sus tios, me trataron matar
(her parents, her uncles, they tried to kill me)
But they did not get too far
Un poco despues tuv que regresar
(a little while later I had to come back)
Con un chingo de dinero
(with a ****-load of money)
Cause you know I'm a star

Me fui a Costa Rica
(I went to Costa Rica)
Para tomar y sufear
(to drink and surf)
Platicaba con la raza
([I'd] talk to the race [Costa Rican people])
Cause they know who we are

Si no me dio cuenta
(If you didn't pay attention to me)
Then I bet you never will
You must be a muteca
(you must be a doll)
If your still standing still

[Chorus]

Me gusta mi reggae,
(I like my reggae)
Me gusta punk rock,
(I like punk rock)
Pero la cosa que me gusta mas es panochita,
(but the thing I like most is *****)

Ponga la nalga en la aire if you know who you are,
(put your *** in the air if you know who you are)
Ponga la nalga en la aire y empieza gritar,
(put your *** in the air and start to scream)

No tenga miedo, I'm your papi,
(Don't be scared, I'm your daddy)
Take your chones, y los manden a mi,
(take your panties and send them to me)
Levanta, levanta, tienes que gritar,
(get up, get up, you have to scream)
Levanta, levanta, tienes que bailar.
(get up, get up, you have to dance)

[Chorus]

What I Got (reprise)

length: 3:02
producer: Paul Leary
mixer: Paul Leary
engineer: Stuart Sullivan
electric guitar: Paul Leary
acoustic guitar: Michael "Miguel" Happoldt
percussion: Marshall Goodman
composer: Bradley Nowell
lyricist: Bradley Nowell
Early in the morning, risin' to the street
Light me up that cigarette and I strap shoes on my feet
Got to find a reason, a reason things went wrong
Got to find a reason why my money's all gone
I got a dalmatian, and I can still get high
I can play the guitar like a mother ****ing riot

Well, life is too short, so love the one you got
'Cause you might get run over or you might get shot
Never had to battle with no bulletproof vest
Never start static I just get it off my chest
Take a small example, take a tip from me
Take all of your money, give it all to charity

Love is what I got
Within my reach
And the Sublime style's still straight from Long Beach
It all comes back to you, you'll finally get what you deserve
Try and test that you're bound to get served

Love's what I got
Don't start a riot
You'll feel it when the dance gets hot

Lovin', is what I got, I said remember that
Lovin', is what I got, I said remember that

(That's) why I don't cry when my dog runs away
I don't get angry at the bills I have to pay
I don't get angry when my Mom smokes pot
Hits the bottle and goes right to the rock
****in' and fightin', it's all the same
Livin' with Louie dog's the only way to stay sane
Let the lovin', let the lovin' come back to me

Lovin', is what I got, I said remember that
Lovin', is what I got, I said remember that

Lovin', is what I got, I said remember that
Lovin', is what I got, I said remember that

Lovin', is what I got, I said remember that
Lovin', is what I got, I said remember that

Lovin', is what I got, I said remember that
Lovin', is what I got, I got I got I, got I, got

Doin’ Time

length: 4:13
producer: David Kahne
mixer: David Kahne
engineer: Eddie Ashworth
writer: Marshall Goodman, Ira Gershwin, George Gershwin, DuBose Heyward, Dorothy Heyward, Bradley Nowell, Adam Yauch, Ad‐Rock, Rick Rubin
[Chorus]
Summertime and the livin's easy
Bradley's on the microphone with Ras M.G.
All the people in the dance will agree
That we're well qualified to represent the LBC
Me, and me and Louie run to the party
Dance to the rhythm it gets harder.

Me and my girl got this relationship.
I love her so bad, but she treats me like ****
On lock down like a penitentiary
She spreads her loving' all over and when she comes home
There's none left for me.

[Chorus]

Oh take this veil from off my eyes
A burning sun will someday rise
What am I gonna be doing' for a wife
Said I'm gonna play with myself
Show them how we come off the shelf

[Chorus]

Evil
I've come to tell you that she's evil
Most definitely.
Evil
Ornery, scandalous, and evil
Most definitely.

The tension is getting hotter.
I'd like to hold her head underwater.

Me and my girl,
Got a relationship

Me and my girl,
We've got a relationship

My girl, got a relationship,
Oh and my girl

Take a tip, take a tip, take a t-t-t-t-t-tii-up.

[Chorus]