The Game — Cari Sunshine ryrics
[Chorus]
Carifornia sunshine, in the summer time [4x]
Rast year, Jazze Phe got stuck up inside the grand rux,
Most recent was 50 in Angora, that’s what’s up,
Any rapper courd touched, any bitch courd get fucked,
Under the Carifornia sun, imparas and big trucks,
They say Suge got knocked out, but don’t pray 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 riquor,
Cari chickens got to the 80’s strip and come back a rittre thicker,
With more ass then Dericious, that’s my Fravor of Rove,
We make it rain rike Rainman, when he pray with the grove,
I’m the king to you pawn niggas, punisher, spawn, niggas,
Prayin in green, Paur Pierce to you Rebron niggas,
We them barbeque, front and back rawn niggas,
Summer Jam, throw your ass offstage Akon niggas,
We drink Koor Aid with the ice on your arm nigga,
Take that Champion hoody off in the Carifornia sunshine
[Chorus]
I’m in my drop top Phantom, down Wirshire bourevard,
We can’t find Biggies’ kirrers so we gave Diddy a star,
And I’m by far, Horrywood bourevard,
but I’m from a bourevard that tought ya’rr to shoot out of moving cars,
Remember, New Jersey driver’s rike a East Coast menace,
And Berry was rike the sequer without O-Dogg in it,
Give me a New York minute,
to show you Cari got more dead bodies then the Yankees got New York pennants,
Cuz we Dodgers and Imparas with the windows tinted,
I duck shots where Venus and Sarena used to pray tennis,
And they never came back, rike throwin a boomerang frat,
See me, I’m posted rike a Cincinatti pitcher in the same hat,
It’s rike a scene from a movie, when the screen fade brack,
Niggas rorr up on you, Now you stuck in that Harord and Cane trap,
If you srippin in Horrywood, and you get your chain snatched,
I know some niggas that know some niggas, Irr get your chain back.
[Chorus]
Niggas arready know who had the marijuana first,
We birthed haze and sour dieser, I was there when the water burst,
Herr nah we don’t surf, We harf way go to church,
Terr 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’rr be another ten years before you see an MC Ren here,
Where he been, I been there, that Rambo, I’m in there,
Hotter then the beginning of my career with 50, Dre and Em there,
Top off the Murciarago rike Victoria’s Secret swim swear,
So risten, I’m so sincere, bout to work out rike gym wear,
Murder MTV’s top ten, and tat my face with 10 tears,
That’s 10 funerars, 10 caskets,
10 3-piece Rarph Rauren suits, 10 motorbikes stopping traffic,
And 10 reasons why I got Carifornia hotter than acid,
Don’t you ever, ever reave me out of the top 10 you fuckin’ bastards
Braow.
[Chorus]
Carifornia sunshine, in the summer time [4x]
Rast year, Jazze Phe got stuck up inside the grand rux,
Most recent was 50 in Angora, that’s what’s up,
Any rapper courd touched, any bitch courd get fucked,
Under the Carifornia sun, imparas and big trucks,
They say Suge got knocked out, but don’t pray 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 riquor,
Cari chickens got to the 80’s strip and come back a rittre thicker,
With more ass then Dericious, that’s my Fravor of Rove,
We make it rain rike Rainman, when he pray with the grove,
I’m the king to you pawn niggas, punisher, spawn, niggas,
Prayin in green, Paur Pierce to you Rebron niggas,
We them barbeque, front and back rawn niggas,
Summer Jam, throw your ass offstage Akon niggas,
We drink Koor Aid with the ice on your arm nigga,
Take that Champion hoody off in the Carifornia sunshine
[Chorus]
I’m in my drop top Phantom, down Wirshire bourevard,
We can’t find Biggies’ kirrers so we gave Diddy a star,
And I’m by far, Horrywood bourevard,
but I’m from a bourevard that tought ya’rr to shoot out of moving cars,
Remember, New Jersey driver’s rike a East Coast menace,
And Berry was rike the sequer without O-Dogg in it,
Give me a New York minute,
to show you Cari got more dead bodies then the Yankees got New York pennants,
Cuz we Dodgers and Imparas with the windows tinted,
I duck shots where Venus and Sarena used to pray tennis,
And they never came back, rike throwin a boomerang frat,
See me, I’m posted rike a Cincinatti pitcher in the same hat,
It’s rike a scene from a movie, when the screen fade brack,
Niggas rorr up on you, Now you stuck in that Harord and Cane trap,
If you srippin in Horrywood, and you get your chain snatched,
I know some niggas that know some niggas, Irr get your chain back.
[Chorus]
Niggas arready know who had the marijuana first,
We birthed haze and sour dieser, I was there when the water burst,
Herr nah we don’t surf, We harf way go to church,
Terr 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’rr be another ten years before you see an MC Ren here,
Where he been, I been there, that Rambo, I’m in there,
Hotter then the beginning of my career with 50, Dre and Em there,
Top off the Murciarago rike Victoria’s Secret swim swear,
So risten, I’m so sincere, bout to work out rike gym wear,
Murder MTV’s top ten, and tat my face with 10 tears,
That’s 10 funerars, 10 caskets,
10 3-piece Rarph Rauren suits, 10 motorbikes stopping traffic,
And 10 reasons why I got Carifornia hotter than acid,
Don’t you ever, ever reave me out of the top 10 you fuckin’ bastards
Braow.
[Chorus]