Back to Top

Ab-Soul - California Dream Lyrics



Ab-Soul - California Dream Lyrics
Official




[ Featuring Vince Staples, Kamm Carson ]

(You are the one)
Everything is as it should be
F*ck what it could or would or should be
F*ck what it would or should or could be, yeah
Everything is as it should be
F*ck what it would or could or should be
I've been askin' God, "Why me?"

Yo, uh, see me out, don't shake my hand
No, you weren't there for me
Keep my phone on DND, hoes get left on read
Seen so many late nights, nowadays I can't sleep
Every time we gang slide, somebody R.I.P
Dopeman had my daddy hooked, shooter like Kareem
No, I ain't no open book, baby, I'm a G
Keep it on me, keep a look, keep it in the streets
Used to be my partner then 'fore he went PC
Call me what you want,just don't call the police, cuz
F*ck the industry they fail to meet my needs
What's up with all these fake thugs lyin' on these beats?
Just tryin' to get my paystubs, please don't intervene
Shoot you, leave you dead or in a jail, I'm somewhere in between
I'm independent but I'm signed to UMG
I'm in the trenches, but I grew up walkin' distance from the beach
Yeah, livin' out that California dream, uh

(What's that?)

'Cause I've been practicin' that everything is as it should be
F*ck what it would've, should've, or it could be (ayy)
But sometimes, I be askin' God, "Why me?" (Run it, run it)
Never get an answer 'cause I know it already
I'm covered in the blood, cuz, am I a demi-god or what?
Me and D was in the doghouse on top of the VIP
So it's no coincidence my insignia in TDE
They turned the idea into the media, that's genius
Herbert Stevens IV, that's intravenous
Still thuggin', drop a sample in the club with No I.D
That one was members-only
If you ain't know me when me and Blocka was rollin' up the blanka
Or ate a dandelion, French coast and Polish sausage
You'll probably do better overseas
Instead of livin' out that California dream, whoa

I seen it all on Turmont in 2003
Age thirteen, used to think murder was make-believe
Role models crippin' like DoeBurger and Killa D
Play football or you bangin', you signed to the streets
Like you swingman jersey, I'm out bright and early
Chirp on my hip, I'm waitin' for the birdies, blocks go east-west
It's runnin' like a derby, ain't worried 'bout cops
You know them niggas nerdy, Louisianna fried chicken just got here
The smokers out early, telling Johnny's who block where
Killers turned snitch kinda ruined the culture
Seen a lot get divided, she was pushing a stroller (ooh)
She got by the stop sign, the opps on a bike ride
They hopped off bus and hit her cousin like five times (shit)
Street general, woulda thought he had nine lives
Now it's car wash, fundraisers and fish fry's, uh
I seen it all on Turmont in 2003
Saying good prayers for all the children at N.L.e
Curtis Middle School, eighth grade, couldn't handle me
Playing suicide, get socked if you dropped the tennis B
Ball harder, a kid watching The Godfather (uh)
Corleone in my bones, you niggas Hightowers
Steve Harvey, 106 for the videos (woo)
Park niggas in the alley known to get tricky, bro
I seen it all on Turmont in 2003
Face and back arm tatts, lil' niggas like seventeen (facts)
Real big blower, where niggas from? It better be (what?)
Del Amo, I had a dream like Dr. King

Ooh, man, cuz hard
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

[ Correct these Lyrics ]

We currently do not have these lyrics. If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.


We currently do not have these lyrics. If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.




(You are the one)
Everything is as it should be
F*ck what it could or would or should be
F*ck what it would or should or could be, yeah
Everything is as it should be
F*ck what it would or could or should be
I've been askin' God, "Why me?"

Yo, uh, see me out, don't shake my hand
No, you weren't there for me
Keep my phone on DND, hoes get left on read
Seen so many late nights, nowadays I can't sleep
Every time we gang slide, somebody R.I.P
Dopeman had my daddy hooked, shooter like Kareem
No, I ain't no open book, baby, I'm a G
Keep it on me, keep a look, keep it in the streets
Used to be my partner then 'fore he went PC
Call me what you want,just don't call the police, cuz
F*ck the industry they fail to meet my needs
What's up with all these fake thugs lyin' on these beats?
Just tryin' to get my paystubs, please don't intervene
Shoot you, leave you dead or in a jail, I'm somewhere in between
I'm independent but I'm signed to UMG
I'm in the trenches, but I grew up walkin' distance from the beach
Yeah, livin' out that California dream, uh

(What's that?)

'Cause I've been practicin' that everything is as it should be
F*ck what it would've, should've, or it could be (ayy)
But sometimes, I be askin' God, "Why me?" (Run it, run it)
Never get an answer 'cause I know it already
I'm covered in the blood, cuz, am I a demi-god or what?
Me and D was in the doghouse on top of the VIP
So it's no coincidence my insignia in TDE
They turned the idea into the media, that's genius
Herbert Stevens IV, that's intravenous
Still thuggin', drop a sample in the club with No I.D
That one was members-only
If you ain't know me when me and Blocka was rollin' up the blanka
Or ate a dandelion, French coast and Polish sausage
You'll probably do better overseas
Instead of livin' out that California dream, whoa

I seen it all on Turmont in 2003
Age thirteen, used to think murder was make-believe
Role models crippin' like DoeBurger and Killa D
Play football or you bangin', you signed to the streets
Like you swingman jersey, I'm out bright and early
Chirp on my hip, I'm waitin' for the birdies, blocks go east-west
It's runnin' like a derby, ain't worried 'bout cops
You know them niggas nerdy, Louisianna fried chicken just got here
The smokers out early, telling Johnny's who block where
Killers turned snitch kinda ruined the culture
Seen a lot get divided, she was pushing a stroller (ooh)
She got by the stop sign, the opps on a bike ride
They hopped off bus and hit her cousin like five times (shit)
Street general, woulda thought he had nine lives
Now it's car wash, fundraisers and fish fry's, uh
I seen it all on Turmont in 2003
Saying good prayers for all the children at N.L.e
Curtis Middle School, eighth grade, couldn't handle me
Playing suicide, get socked if you dropped the tennis B
Ball harder, a kid watching The Godfather (uh)
Corleone in my bones, you niggas Hightowers
Steve Harvey, 106 for the videos (woo)
Park niggas in the alley known to get tricky, bro
I seen it all on Turmont in 2003
Face and back arm tatts, lil' niggas like seventeen (facts)
Real big blower, where niggas from? It better be (what?)
Del Amo, I had a dream like Dr. King

Ooh, man, cuz hard
[ Correct these Lyrics ]
Writer: Armon Stringer, Deangelo Smith, Herbert Anthony Stevens IV, Kameron Small, Patrick Denard Douthit, Vincent Staples
Copyright: Lyrics © Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.

Back to: Ab-Soul



Ab-Soul - California Dream Video
(Show video at the top of the page)

Tags:
No tags yet