Cisco Kid

Way, way, way, 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, "wubby-wubby"

Now S.T.P. 1993

So Hollywood, get out my way

My mom's word seems like yesterday:

"Love Jesus, don't forget to pray"

She most have gone with the boss D.J., right? ("Don't be too sure of that, fat one")

And feelin' love, so skinny-ny-ny ("Fat one?")

Comin' with the 9 millimeter, point your gun and bullet free

'Cause he who has the money, has the authority

And respect to the man with the Uzi ("Pretty handy with a six gun, myself")

The 808 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 looped tight come naturally

Mom's words seemed like yesterday

Now in '94, we got an S.T.P

A half pack of smokes, and oh yes, Aunt B

A fifteen pack of Old Milwaukee

A dalmatian and a girlfriend

But I ain't got no money-ney-ney-ney

The 808 is within my reach

Sublime posse come straight from Long Beach

If you think that Hollywood didn't get what he deserved

Call 808, kid, and get served