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 or big and buff, nice and straight.
You got stats: respect, weapon skill,
stamina, muscle, fat, and sex appeal.
You get clothes from Bincos and Prolaps
Sub Urban, Zip, Victim, and D Sachs.
Watch your back when you in rival hoods,
they'll test just to guess if your survivals good. (survivals good)
Ducking shells at the Cluckin' Bell,
jump out busting gunning till they tuck they tail.
It seem like I'm on impossible missions (impossible missions)
twisted predicaments hostile positions. (hostile positions)
Tenpenny and Pulaski harass me,
cop cars been on our ass the last past week.
Because the 'dreas for the gangsters homeboy,
hands is the language for the 'bangers homeboy.
And its dangerous homeboy,
get your brains blow for how you do your fingers homeboy.
Heat cocked' we popping them hot one's,
dump them out bend the block, shaken before the cops come.
listen for sirens, they don't got none,
back another lap catch a straggler with a shotgun.
Hittin' them up what that Grove Street like,
in a dirty sling shot and old Levi's.