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the streets can teach us but Gangstas want to diss this
got my forty on my grill trying to cook my steak fine
medium well got words to tell but why am I sweatin
continue on Long Beach not a soul in reach going to keep the peace
drink them if you have them i'm going in sand blasting
Captain what's the real deal got es that squeel
Going a bit gangsta sorry but I thank ya for lighting the fire
blowin it up in its purest of desire going to go far
got my pimped up car and slice of life everything nice
saying some cheap trick this is on my moving the stick
takes me for another lick they say i'm bad new don't have a clue
we must choose are own blues you see that's my own destiny
having fun in the sun when this rap game is done
but I tend to stay inside like its always been ever since I was ten
friends used to get chased by the cops in the street
surfing for the latest trend so out of reach
just take me to the beach with my suntan lotion
sipping on my magic potion but its not whiskey you see
getting knocked to my knees suckas try to hide from me
　
Dizzy in a haze like I drop the grenade we got to get the back swing clean
used to know her but I had to leave her she can't deliver
got high hopes for the underground sound yeah you want me around
es put their fist in stopped me going fishing now they're licking
Broke as a phony balogna don't you want to do me
Children crying but I ain't lying got this fish for frying
The streets can teach us about being mysterious want to make you or break you
inside we hide behind four walls that bind its the walking blind
　
　
　
　
　
　
