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 competin', even police
Four deep in a green rag with gold feet
Blast wit' the flag on the strap, that's OG
Stay in shape, hit the gym, lift the weights
Get supercut and big and buff, nice and straight
You got stats: Respect, weapon skill
Stamina, muscle, fat and sex appeal
You get clothes from Binco's and ProLaps
Suburban, Zip, Victim and D-Sachs
Watch yo' back wit' them rival hoods
They'll test just to guess if your survival's good (Survival's good)
Duckin' shells at the Cluckin' Bell
Jump out, bus' a gun until they tuck they tail
It seems like I'm on impossible missions
Twisted predicaments, hostile positions
Tenpenny and Pulaski harass me
Cop cars been on our ass the last past week
Cause the 'Dreas's full of gangsters, homeboy
Hands is the language for the bangers, homeboy
And it's dangerous, homeboy
Get your brains 'fore how you do your fingers, homeboy
Heat ♥♥♥♥♥♥, we poppin' hot ones, dump 'em out
Bend the block, shake before the cops come
Listen for sirens, they don't got none
Back another lap, catch a straggler with the shotgun
Hittin' them up, what that Grove Street like
In a dirty slingshot and old Levi's