Welcome to San Andreas, I'm CJ from Grove Street
Land of the heinous, gang bangers and cold heat
In Los Santos neighbors get no sleep
Beefing with anybody, competing even police
Four deep in a green rag with gold feet
Blast with the flag on the strap, that's OG
Stay in shape, hit the gym, lift the weights
Get super cut and big and buff, nice and straight
You've got stats, respect, weapon sk**
Stamina, muscle, fat, and s** appeal
You get clothes from Binco and Prolaps
Suburban, Zip, Victim and D Sachs
Watch your back when in rival hoods
They'll test just to guess if your survival's good
Ducking shells at the Clucking Bell
Jump out, busting, gunning, 'til they tuck their tail
It seems like I'm on impossible missions
Twisted predicaments, hostile positions
Tennpenny and Polaski hara** me
Cop cars been on our a** the last past week
Because the 'Dreas for the gangsters', home boy
Hands is the language for the bangers', homeboy
And its dangerous, homeboy
Get your brains blew for how you do your fingers homeboy
Heat co*ked, we popping them hot one's
Dump them out, bend the block, shaken before the cops come
Listen for sirens but they don't got none
Back another lap, catch a straggler with a shotgun
Hitting them up with that Grove Street lock
In a dirty sling shot and old Levi's