Lyrics:
San Francisco by the bay
In my drop top come out and play
Got a mint interior candy cane
We hit the gas we switchin lanes
San Francisco by the bay
In
it right
And we had just gotten back off tour last night
So the gang and I thought that it would be groovy
If we summoned up the posse and done rushed
the posse and done rushed the movies
I got Angie, Jeff got Tina
Ready Rock got some girl I'd never seen in my life
That was all right because the lady was
Whoa
And you say New York City (uh huh)
Back by popular demand (ah ya ya ya ya ya ya ya)
You been waitin' in the bay for us so long baby
We had
Hot For Summer
Too Hot For Summer
You're
Too Hot For Summer
Bay house
Short blouse
Get sexy by the old lighthouse
Looking into your eyes
As blue
from experience that they won't roll by,
With a scowl and a frown
We'll keep our peckers down
And prepare for depression and doom and dread,
We
from experience that they won't roll by,
With a scowl and a frown
We'll keep our peckers down
And prepare for depression and doom and dread,
We
whoa-oh, singing oh Santa Rosa
Whoa-oh, high and low-oh-oo
Then one day, sang ol' Craig,
I'll be free to go my way
And be standing by the bay at Santa
Been brutally murdered by the Jungle
Posse police seem to be baffled to
The whereabouts of these four suspects
D-Money easily spotted in
Candy burgundy
we took it all around the world
I got fans in retirement homes, to teenagers, to little bitty boys ans girls
Droppin' lyrical bombs up in ya' hood,
to catch the 40 bus around the way
Me and Fred Benz, slanging tapes
All these things, that we did
Grab the microphone and start screaming "Bitch!"
You
like a quaker
But take the raincoats, for the oats
When you crush trail mix yo, I dig my grits fixed slow
With butter, you slip up in the grits
It's the motherfuckin' heist so don't ring the alarm 'G'
It's the B-O-S-S and the S-P-I-C-E
So, put this gat in your pants (right)
And we gonna
Lex truck nothing in my click ain't hey
Everybody here was fucked when they heard 'bout the deal
Cash money hot boyz sound for thirty mill
Already
friends, still be together in the end
When our bodies laying dormant, food for worms and thought before us
As together we stay haunted by the things that
Infrared beamers keep ya posse on my penis
Now it's on wicked in this da link a mid to west flex
The abyss to this bitch who dis this click
Bliss is hangin'
whoa-oh, singin', "Oh, Santa Rosa", whoa-oh, high and low, ooh
Then one day, sang ol' Craig, "I'll be free to go my way
And be standin' by the bay at Santa
hide! We fixed the ride!
Stupid hipsters in Brooklyn
Shit's gentrified
My posse feel like hiphop got too flossy
I'ma put a rapper in
A wheelchair like
hot
Remember the days we was cold
Now we got the money got it by the loads
All my niggas we got it we came from the bottom
We came from nothing now we
Colors like stained glass
I see the fear in your eyes when we arrive
And what's the odds of
Even thinking you coincide
When every time a nigga open
A door
I made it
I told you so
Mocha Latte, kid
We no play
Stress-free, sexy in Montego Bay
It's a pity that y'all look like idiots
Yo boo, let me know
the posse and done rushed the movies
I got Angie, Jeff got Tina
Ready Rock got some girl I'd never seen in my life
That was all right because the lady was
forget what goes up gotta come down
(DJ Paul)
But all that's go change
1997 Prophet Posse
You know what I'm sayin
Loved by few,hated by many
We in
from experience that they won't roll by,
With a scowl and a frown
We'll keep our peckers down
And prepare for depression and doom and dread,
We
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