Beach boy bonanza, sunrise, get up Surfin' on a curb from inception of a set-up Planet in black granite, halos above it The autopsy can't top me, beloved Dissect survival, passed on a whisper Placed on the mother who shunned, now it's the Boys who shot joy inside the violent (Hell from New York) with a mars inside it This is for the bottom of the deck (yo, who got squad?) They call us the the little goat cheese (let's get the engine, baby) I rev it like Run, the squint in the sun I bet you bottom dollar I get louder than a bomb A pH balance, son, I walk the phenom Like typo, might go, dope in the stash Crooked counterfeits (we keep it straight cash) Crooked counterfeits (keep it straight cash) Crooked counterfeits (keep it straight cash) Crooked counterfeits (straight cash) (Cash, cash) You're a peanut with a cashew