Lyrics:
(words & music by sid tepper - roy bennett)
I'm a poor hawaiian beach boy
A long way from the beach
'cause someone shoved his face against my hand
clutch
Cause I got Jordan touch
I'm more than tough
Still I might retire
Like I'm Andrew luck
The golden child
Shooting from the line
That boy he known
of they lingo
And make sure I screw my words up
Bravo for your swagger-jackin'
I'm overwhelmed by your dedication
You actually fooled these people into
of they lingo
And make sure I screw my words up
Bravo for your swagger-jackin'
I'm overwhelmed by your dedication
You actually fooled these people into
this is child abuse"
Call DYFS, I might just be gettin' nicer
You young boys ain't ready for real
Thirty's the new twenty, nigga
I'm so hot still
this is child abuse"
Call DYFS, I might just be gettin' nicer
You young boys ain't ready for real
Thirty's the new twenty, nigga
I'm so hot still
son you like a big daddy
Like Craig I'm too G
Old school, ou broe
Like St. Augustines Primary
Kapping art on tapyt
I was a b-boy too
Rappers need
keep it on me
(Call me a Florida boy)
Top down by myself, but I'm never lonely
(Call me a Florida boy)
See I ain't really finna have remorse for ya
ik deed met de opps?
Zag je zijn face met de heat on my thing
Kijken en doen alsof hij het niet weet
Alle drie albums, die kwamen op één
Free al m
I’m the one, I’m just surrounded by 3’s and 2’s
I got a line around the corner waiting on me to lose
I’m done with phony kickin, I can see that ain’t
I ain’t jealous
I ain’t selfish
Taking one for the team
She in love with a skater boy
No Avril Lavigne
And I’m stuck in my head
While we laying in
nigga, Crenshaw district, boy
Used to walk to the Slauson to get fitted, boy
Then spent time by the beach, my wave different, boy
Bad breath nigga, I
home! Ahahaha! Ah oh, why do I want to go home? Oh I don't
know, I've been in here so long, oh I'm stuck to the chair and all that kind of good stuff...
I'm a certified stunner
Surrounded by murderers
TEC-9 runners and pistol
Packing homicide gunners
Coka Nostradamus, holy rollers
Exploding martyrs
We
to the top
Talking getting topped off with my top back
By a bad bottom bitch
Telling suckas top that
I'm a West Side Long Beach California Native
Fuck what you
I'm accepted
By mainstream America and good in the piece
Now niggas wanna talk all greasy (why)
Like they ain't used to open up for
Me in New York on tv
A clear sky
I feel free
Feel my hands through the sea
I'm alive feel the breeze
Times likes these
I find my peace
High vibes
By the beach
Dive in
friend longtime
Man I see you give me the party man
But you know, you know, you know, today is very cold, i'm very very very cold
So me ya go warm you up
that I'm craving bye bye ya it's waving
Hundo mph driving like I'm all flexed up
I'm a youngin' on the rise shout out boy Next Up
Six Feet Summer, album
let this pimping save ya
Leave that bitch alone, the homies call her Ms. Behavior
Boy you move too fast, done too much talking
I'm too much walking
anybody K, California all day
Yessir, on the curb, Mossberg by the band
Little homies on the roof with the blam-blam-blam
Long Beach, popping pill on 'em
out
Oh shit
I'm way too close to the sun cause I'm burning up
Let's go (ah woo)
Kicking my feet up on the beach it's tough (that's tough)
Can't be
I've fallen face first into a painting of hallucinogenic sunset
Vital beach, vital beach, vital beach yeah
Vital beach, vital beach
I'm the boy
Maybe I could take you on a date by the beach
We could stare at some palm trees
And maybe later when you fall in love with everything
You could call
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