(SURF GANG, bitch)

Yeah, yeah, uh, yeah

Uh, yeah, okay, yeah

Hands down, I'm beating the price

Pen in the ink still wet, put it in rice

Reset, hola, bonjour

This factory Oakley, it's not from the store

Yeah, they with all the games 'til we hop on the sticks

Now they don't wanna play no more

Take a whole zip of flame to the core

Up with the sunlight, countin' the profit

I never been told my fortune

You could tell this crop was grown from the heart

It came from Portland, Oregon

I want the grower, you know how to store it

I'm in a distro 'cause I could afford it

Pound for pound, got every box in the basement

From George to Eric Foreman

Too much pressure, I wrote game

Seven up, now a whole city my airport

Life never shot me a favor

My chest on ice like Gucci LaFlare

Yeah, I'm twistin' in front of my mama

She tryin' to tell me what to do with my hair

Window pane, it's a dangerous glare

Yeah, won't touch no spray that's played

The game might pay but ain't shit player about it

(SURF GANG, baby)

Yeah, yeah, hands down, I'm beating the price

Pen in the ink still wet, put it in rice

Reset, hola, bonjour

This factory Oakley, it's not from the store

Yeah, they with all the games 'til we hop on the sticks

Now they don't wanna play no more

Take a whole zip of flame to the core