Game Cali Sunshine Lyrics

Cali Sunshine Lyrics

[Chorus]

California sunshine, in the summer time [4x]



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



[Chorus]



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.



[Chorus]



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
suits, 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.



[Chorus]