Trailer Park Boys: Don't Legalize It

I was out on the West Coast

tryin' to make a buck

And things didn't work

out I was down on my luck

Got tired a-roamin'

and bummin' around

So I started thumbin' back

east toward my hometown

Made a lot of miles

the first two days

And I figured I'd be home in

week if my luck held out this way

But the third night I got

stranded way out of town

At a cold lonely crossroads

rain was pourin' down

I was hungry and freezin'

done caught a chill

When the lights of a

big semi topped the hill

Lord I sure was glad to

hear them air brakes come on

And I climbed in that cab

Where I knew it'd be warm

At the wheel sit a big man

he weighed about two-ten

He stuck out his hand

and said with a grin

Big Joe's the name

I told him mine

And he said the name of

my rig is Phantom 309

You okay man?

I asked him why he

called his rig such a name

- Mr. Green!

- Hey, what's up? What's up?

Good to see you, candy

man. What's up, Hydro?

It's been a minute, dawg.

What's up with y'all?

Sorry about the circumstances

and all that, right? Sayin'.

Yo, what's up with T man?

Man, T at a halfway house,

y'all. But he gonna be here.

What the f*ck are you doing here?

- I invited myself.

- Yeah? Well, fucking get him out of here.

You couldn't wear a fucking

shirt to a funeral, Randy?

I got the keys. Just take it easy,

- the transmission's slipping.

- Okay.

I'll pick it up after work.

- Do you mind putting some gas in it?

- Sure.

How's the mall, George?

- Good.

- I got some good dope for you,

- I'll bring it by after work.

- Thanks, Ricky.

Good to see you, Julian.

We're not friends, we're business

partners. Don't forget it.

Okay, tough guy.

We've got the buyers in Montreal,

everything's set, bring all you can bring.

Alright, cool.

Did you hear that?

The cops threw the old

man out of the dump,

so he moved to the goddamn parking

lot of the old Zellers downtown.

He was selling hotdogs and

drinking. He was there almost a year.

He wouldn't listen to anybody.

I fucking warned him

about the propane.

Last Monday at 4 a.m., there

was a great big explosion.

Some bums witnessed it,

said Ray was down there.

Fucking drunk, smoking cigarettes.

Trying to steal propane for his grill

and that was it, fucking ka-blamo.

Motherfucker, he blew himself up.

Sayin'?

Sad like a motherfucker

too, ain't it?

I was down with Ray, dawg.

I loved that old white boy.

Over this way, please. Everybody

gather around over here.

Get the f*ck out of the way.

Thanks for coming today, everyone.

We're gathered here

today at Ray's sanctuary.

This is a place that most of us

would... rightly call the dump.

But not Ray.

For Ray, this was like

his personal paradise.

He...

Sorry.

We're here today to remember Ray, and

all of the things that he taught us.

To celebrate what a

wonderful man he was.

He wasn't wonderful, he was shitty.

Maybe the shittiest man

there ever was, ever will be.

You better shut your

fucking mouth right now.

Goddamn right, you

bald-headed, bespectacled bitch!

It's a funeral, motherfucker!

I'm gonna slap the white

boy out your mouths!

You don't disrespect a motherfucker

like that at his own funeral!

- Jamie...

- What the f*ck's wrong with you, bitch?

You too Randy, get the f*ck back,

fucking Simon Cowell with titties!

You're out of fucking

line right now.

Sorry, Julian.

My apologies, everyone.

Continue.

Can you please just fucking leave?

- How could you say that?

- Randy, Ray isn't dead.

Piss still flows in the jug, bud.

Come on, Randy.

- How could you say that?

- Rand...

Instant karla, fucky!

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