The Game - Cali Sunshine lyrics
[The Game - Cali Sunshine lyrics]
California sunshine, in the summer time
Last year, Jazze Phe got stuck
Up inside the grand lux
Most recent was 50 in
Angola, that’s what’s up
Any rapper could touched, any
Bitch could get fucked
Under the California sun, impalas
And big trucks
They say Suge got knocked out, but
Don’t play that nigga cheap
Cuz you’re body might wash up by
The courts at Venice Beach
Ain’t shit sweet but my Swisher, ain’t
Shit buzzin but my liquor
Cali chickens got to the 80’s strip
And come back a little thicker
With more ass then Delicious, that’s
My Flavor of Love
We make it rain like Rainman, when
He play with the glove
I’m the king to you pawn
Niggas, punisher, spawn, niggas
Playin in green, Paul Pierce
To you Lebron niggas
We them barbeque, front and back lawn niggas
Summer Jam, throw your ass
Offstage Akon niggas
We drink Kool Aid with the
Ice on your arm nigga
Take that Champion hoody off
In the California sunshine
I’m in my drop top
Phantom, down Wilshire boulevard
We can’t find Biggies’ killers so
We gave Diddy a star
And I’m by far, Hollywood boulevard
But I’m from a boulevard that tought ya’ll
To shoot out of moving cars
Remember, New Jersey driver’s like
A East Coast menace
And Belly was like the sequel
Without O-Dogg in it
Give me a New York minute
To show you Cali got more dead bodies
Then the Yankees got New York pennants
Cuz we Dodgers and Impalas
With the windows tinted
I duck shots where Venus and
Sarena used to play tennis
And they never came back, like
Throwin a boomerang flat
See me, I’m posted like a Cincinatti
Pitcher in the same hat
It’s like a scene from a movie
When the screen fade black
Niggas roll up on you, Now you stuck
In that Harold and Cane trap
If you slippin in Hollywood, and
You get your chain snatched
I know some niggas that know some niggas
Ill get your chain back
Niggas already know who had
The marijuana first
We birthed haze and sour diesel, I
Was there when the water burst
Hell nah we don’t surf, We
Half way go to church
Tell you the truth, shiit, right now
I’m in the fuckin hearse
And it ain’t my night to
Get buried in the dirt
But it is your day to get buried by a verse
It’ll be another ten years before you
See an MC Ren here
Where he been, I been there
That Lambo, I’m in there
Hotter then the beginning of my career
With 50, Dre and Em there
Top off the Murcialago like
Victoria’s Secret swim swear
So listen, I’m so sincere, bout to
Work out like gym wear
Murder MTV’s top ten, and tat
My face with 10 tears
That’s 10 funerals, 10 caskets
10 3-piece Ralph Lauren suit's
10 motorbikes stopping traffic
And 10 reasons why I got
California hotter than acid
Don’t you ever
Ever leave me out of the
Top 10 you fuckin’ bastards
Blaow
Last year, Jazze Phe got stuck
Up inside the grand lux
Most recent was 50 in
Angola, that’s what’s up
Any rapper could touched, any
Bitch could get fucked
Under the California sun, impalas
And big trucks
They say Suge got knocked out, but
Don’t play that nigga cheap
Cuz you’re body might wash up by
The courts at Venice Beach
Ain’t shit sweet but my Swisher, ain’t
Shit buzzin but my liquor
Cali chickens got to the 80’s strip
And come back a little thicker
With more ass then Delicious, that’s
My Flavor of Love
We make it rain like Rainman, when
He play with the glove
I’m the king to you pawn
Niggas, punisher, spawn, niggas
Playin in green, Paul Pierce
To you Lebron niggas
We them barbeque, front and back lawn niggas
Summer Jam, throw your ass
Offstage Akon niggas
We drink Kool Aid with the
Ice on your arm nigga
Take that Champion hoody off
In the California sunshine
I’m in my drop top
Phantom, down Wilshire boulevard
We can’t find Biggies’ killers so
We gave Diddy a star
And I’m by far, Hollywood boulevard
But I’m from a boulevard that tought ya’ll
To shoot out of moving cars
Remember, New Jersey driver’s like
A East Coast menace
And Belly was like the sequel
Without O-Dogg in it
Give me a New York minute
To show you Cali got more dead bodies
Then the Yankees got New York pennants
Cuz we Dodgers and Impalas
With the windows tinted
I duck shots where Venus and
Sarena used to play tennis
And they never came back, like
Throwin a boomerang flat
See me, I’m posted like a Cincinatti
Pitcher in the same hat
It’s like a scene from a movie
When the screen fade black
Niggas roll up on you, Now you stuck
In that Harold and Cane trap
If you slippin in Hollywood, and
You get your chain snatched
I know some niggas that know some niggas
Ill get your chain back
Niggas already know who had
The marijuana first
We birthed haze and sour diesel, I
Was there when the water burst
Hell nah we don’t surf, We
Half way go to church
Tell you the truth, shiit, right now
I’m in the fuckin hearse
And it ain’t my night to
Get buried in the dirt
But it is your day to get buried by a verse
It’ll be another ten years before you
See an MC Ren here
Where he been, I been there
That Lambo, I’m in there
Hotter then the beginning of my career
With 50, Dre and Em there
Top off the Murcialago like
Victoria’s Secret swim swear
So listen, I’m so sincere, bout to
Work out like gym wear
Murder MTV’s top ten, and tat
My face with 10 tears
That’s 10 funerals, 10 caskets
10 3-piece Ralph Lauren suit's
10 motorbikes stopping traffic
And 10 reasons why I got
California hotter than acid
Don’t you ever
Ever leave me out of the
Top 10 you fuckin’ bastards
Blaow