Hook:

Riding shotgun, pistol pump grip

And my shades darker than my days in the field

Broken window theory

We survive in this shit

Fuck a 9-5, we ride and grind, dying to live

Verse 1:

California june gloom but it’s mayday

Kids ain’t got a play day

Six feet deep before he even have his heyday

Bounty hunter payday

Just the way the game played

No tutorial

Kill or be killed, it’s all the same thing

Niggas can’t vacate

Blood in, blood out

Even if you cripping best choice stay in the dugout

In too deep, built economies in drug house

Deals go wrong the trap door letting slugs out

We bugged out, tryna make a living

Roll our sleeves up, but ain’t nobody doing dishes

Some days you so drained

Life in this cold game

You rather smoke pot than have your own pot to piss in

And niggas don’t even live long enough to have fucking eulogies

Young OGs like the hood had a mutiny

Teens outrunning a manslaughter

Invite em over like a LAN party

Get your fuckin man bodied

Hook:

Riding shotgun, pistol pump grip

And my shades darker than my days in the field

Broken window theory

We survive in this shit

Fuck a 9-5, we ride and grind, dying to live

Verse 2:

It’s a shootout in the streets

Neighbors called out of work

This all out war

And niggas all out of work

Turning to options ain’t never healthy

Steadily beefing

Brain deterioration from drugs

Like a cow with disease and

I mean cops claim to clean up the streets

But even street cleaners don’t know dirtier than the PD

It’s all fucked

Our local government we can’t trust

Rather spend our money on politics that we can’t budge

Mandatory minimums, lifelong sentences

To make sure they make back all the investments on all the prison pens

And you tell me that they propositions grounded in truth

Our fucking heads are exploding between the ground and they boots

We need help and a real opportunity

To build from the ground

Reestablish communities

That once held pride

That once had love

Where no one died

Just lived from above

That's all us

Hook:

Riding shotgun, pistol pump grip

And my shades darker than my days in the field

Broken window theory

We survive in this shit

Fuck a 9-5, we ride and grind, dying to live