Lyrics:
Just came back from California
It's gettin mighty warm there by the way
No climate change, no climate change
But hey didn't they warn ya
Mass
up up up
Then I’ll be the one they gas up up up
My n***a Maji aint the one to pass up up up
My n***a Maji aint the one to pass up up up
No no no no
her (Oh)
Like a sauna in California
To the westside, that's the best, side
And you ain't get no bags, you just get by
Don't worry
I'm gonna miss you in
hate cops
He watching over be the bad a** drop
Here go bad a** pops
Daddy watch over me the bad a** drop and mama ain't gotta work no more believe
how we think
No tongue tissue niggas around me
Just a hundred cement niggas around me
We hard bodied, y'all bodies ain’t like ours
And if y'all bodies
in the morning
And we're packed into a narrow recording
Studio in Burbank, California
The same studio where the 28-year-old rapper
From Philadelphia
Said, no one's perfect
But no one's worthless
We ain't deserving of everything Heaven and Earth is
But word is, good
(Northern California)
Ay, they
the middle of the night I hear gun shots go off by my window, window
Dear father
It ain't easy, it ain't easy; it ain't easy, it ain't easy 'round here
day
It ain’t over, it ain’t over
It ain’t over, no, it ain’t over, hey
It ain’t over
[Verse 2: Cee]
Nah man, we can't be through
We got the game by
destination
I ain’t got no where to go
Half way across the nation
Just me and the open road
I might ride into sun in California
I might ride down south
you can do dirt and stay clean
Niggas like that get pronounced dead on the scene
ain't no winnin teams cause everybody taken losses in they hood
What's really goin' on in the Oakland town?
Tell me who went broke, and who got rich
But Too $hort baby, just ain't no snitch
You say you're just
I ain't got no friends
(take money) yeah, I'ma do this track
West side! (take money) MOB, Bad Boy killers
(take money) Ha ha haha, hey fat boy
(take
reason they’ll pop-out
Then maybe show you what I be about
No play time with a play mate ain’t no play date
Better vacate if you ain’t about to take her
on the road
Calling friends back home
But I just get the phone machine and this reply
Ain't nobody home in California
All your friends have gone to Molokai
on the blind slide
Working all these hours just to feel like I get robbed
I'm boutta quit ain't no strings on me
And ima work till we living comfy
And do
the blunt to the phillie, the ganja to the sessy
You can't write a rhyme without the roots men-mentality
'Cause ain't no Milli Vanilli but the kiddy with
got myself a list and I'm checking it twice
But I ain't sliding down no chimney
Imagine getting dust on that all white Fendi don't offend me
I'm
back
No rats in my pack, ain't no wrinkles in my slacks
Counting singles in my Shaqs, stacking Pringles from the crack
Nigga I was on the bus with it
the influence of black music
The confluence
Beyond nuance through aunts and uncles
We were conduit's for hot clothes and hustle
I ain't catch no cases like
hours
I chose this style of living
Coldness lurks late and cowers
Whenever I walk by
I don't really need no date
I'mma woo myself today
California sunset
on track
Playing for gold
But ain’t no king inside the game of rap
Now that I’ve had a sip
An itty bitty taste
So I gotta get a grip
An addict to the game
no one's fault but my own
I disregarded all the signs
Now I'm by my lonely walking down this road
Love ain't been too kind to me
Call Cupid tell him he
next to you in California
Touch down with my shades off
Trying to be blinded by the sun
This our first vacation
So we take a stroll and have some fun
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