Cisco Kid

Way, way, way, we way back in the days the year, 1980 Had to get a job, had to make some money-ney Picked up a pen and a pad Dropped reality never thinking that I would live to see the day I'd rock my own CD We used to do the dance we called obie-obie Now S.T.P. 1993, so Hollywood get out my way My mom's words seems like yesterday Love Jesus, don't forget to pray She must have gone with the boss D.J. right? And feelin though, skinny coming with the nine millimetres 'Cause he who has the money has the authority And respect to the man with the Uzi The eight oh eight kick is on my hit list And this beat's cooking like an Ital Dish It wasn't hard for me to do, it was so easy Because to me loops loops tight go naturally Mom's words seem like yesterday Now in '94 we got an S.T.P. A half pack of smokes, and oh yes, and Sammy A fifteen pack of Old Milwaukee A dalmatian and a girlfriend But I ain't got no money-ne-ne-ne The eight oh eight is within my reach Sublime beats are comin' straight from long beach If you think that Hollywood Didn't get what he deserved Call eight oh eight kit to get served