The sun is shinin' We should be makin' hay But we're dead from the waist down Like in California Victory is empty There are lessons in defeat But we'
to rape and murder your family you, You can try and run, But there's nowhere left to hide. I will follow the sun as it sets in the west It will lead me
I'm outside with the grams early, Puffing life by the gram heard me. How's a bird, grinding the curb. And if I get caught put me in a cell with my [Cali
he visits me I receive his letters in the mail twice a week And I think he loves me And when he leaves her He's coming out to California I guess it
most of, them niggas fear me I'm supposed to Protect my neck, if not mine then big petey's Dipped in the door so no one could even see me I told matilda
s bakin? in the sun Got the news it just made number one Here we go for one more memory Way back here in the twentieth century That night in Amsterdam You saw me
Santiago 'Cause you niggas ain't impressin' me plus you singin' big red records So nigga fuck what you tellin' me Sit down Jr. you couldn't see me if
it's all about gettin that cash (Money) Johny cash (Money) Roseland cash (Money) Give me cash (Money) Cold cash (Money) Cash rules everything around me
gettin that cash (Money) (x9) Johny cash (Money) Rosanne Cash (Money) Give me cash (Money) Cold cash (Money) (Repeat to fade) Cash rules everything around me
most of, them niggas fear me I'm supposed to Protect my neck, if not mine then big Petey's Dipped in the door so no one could even see me I told Matilda
my pen, on cold michigan nights And the bitch didn't freeze up on me, when I wanted her to write it I have pimped my pen in the hot california sun And
The sun is shining We should be making hay But we're dead from the waist down Like in Californ-i-a Victory is empty There are lessons in defeat But we
this world how could it be without me now it's all over my tongue and still it has no taste because without you there is no me there's no me at all
, see California, where pretty people dream Now see that icy vacant lot where they made your nose bleed The flannel spread, the heater on The world is dead, the sun
good rain, Little piece of land. Feller might grow something. We settled down on some cut over land Pulled up brush and the stumps by hand. Hot sun
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,
I drove from Palmdale, California to Compton Drunk two 40-ounces, Old English 800, the club ended All the homies left my in the parkin lot toe' back Wasn't nobody out there but me
in California La Paloma, La Paloma Left my burden in California La Paloma, La Paloma Left my burden in California La Paloma, La Paloma Left my burden in California