Letras
Well I walked outside into a sunny day
Called some friends to back my play
We went downtown to taste a few
And then over to the coast
To see what kind of trouble we could get into
What trouble we could get into
What trouble we could get into
What trouble we could get into
In sweet home San Diego
And then over to P.B. the tanning ladies
San Diego girls, they drive me crazy
Hooked up on a number or two
We'll call 'em up later
To see what kind of trouble we could get into
What trouble we could get into
What trouble we could get into
What trouble we could get into
And now all of the bad times
(Get 'em outta here)
To the bum with the cheap wine
(Get 'em outta here)
To the perps of the hate crimes
(Get 'em outta here)
Because the owner of a calm hand, he is the real man
Punks on the get low
(Get 'em outta here)
To the fools with their fake gold
(Get 'em outta here)
To the San Diego po po
(Get 'em outta here)
(Get 'em outta here)
And now I called up Zink to hit some spots
Bought a couple of beers to chase the shots
Pacers, platinum until two
And then over to the Vu
To see what kind of trouble we could get into
What trouble we could get into
What trouble we could get into
The troubles that we get into
'Cause the nine's in the front row
(Get 'em outta here)
To the swollen tongue coke ho
(Get 'em outta here)
To the watered down drinks low
(Get 'em outta here)
Because unless it is a stiff trip
You get no tip
Fighting in the peep booth
(Get 'em outta here)
You got the tweeker with the one tooth
(Get 'em outta here)
Say poppa on the 80 proof
(Get 'em outta here)