The Game – Cali Sunshine lyrics

[Chorus 4X]
California sunshine
In the summer time
Oh...

[Verse:]
Last year,
Jazze Pha got stuck up inside the Grand Lux
The most recent was 50 in Angola, that's what's up
Any rapper could get 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
Cause 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 "A" to strip
And come back a little thicker
With more ass than Deelishis
That's my flavor of love
We make it rain like Rain Man
When he play with the glove
I'm the king to you pawn niggaz, Punisher, Spawn niggaz
Playin in green, Paul Pierce to you Lebron niggaz
We them barbeque, front and back lawn niggaz
Summer Jam, throw your ass offstage, Akon niggaz
We drink kool-aid with the ice on your arm nigga
Take that Champion hoody off
In the California sunshine...

[Chorus 4X]
California sunshine
In the summer time
Oh...

[Verse 2:]
I'm in my drop top Phantom, down Wilshire Boulevard
We can't find Biggie's killer
So we gave Puffy a star
And I'm by far Hollywood Boulevard
But I'm from a boulevard
That tought y'all how to shoot out of moving cars
Remember, "New Jersey Drive"
Was like a East Coast "Menace"
And "Belly" was like the sequel without O-Dog in it
Give me a New York minute
To show you Cali got more dead bodies
Then the Yankees got New York pennants
Cause we Dodgers and Impalas with the windows tinted
I duck shots where Venus and Serena used to play tennis
And they never came back
Like throwin a boomerang flat
See me, I'm posted like a Cincinnati pitcher in the same hat
It's like a scene from a movie
When the screen fade black
Niggaz roll up on you
Now you stuck in that Harold and Caine trap
If you slippin in Hollywood
And you get your chain snatched
I know some niggaz that owe some niggaz
I'll get your chain back

[Chorus 4X]
California sunshine
In the summer time
Oh...

[Verse 3:]
Niggaz already know who had the Marijuana first
We birthed Haze and Sour Diesel
I was there when the water burst
Hell naw we don't surf
We half way go to church
Tell you the truth, shit
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 Murcielago like Victoria's Secret swim swear
So listen, I'm so sincere
About to work out like gym wear
Murder mtv's top ten, then tat my face with 10 tears
That's 10 funerals, 10 caskets
10 3-piece Ralph Lauren suits
10 motorbikes stoppin 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 4X]
California sunshine
In the summer time
Oh...