Stop
Stop picking through the horizontal blinds
I'm waking up incredibly slow
Grabbing the heavy gold chain off the mahogany dresser
You already know
No sirens wailing in the background
There ain't no helicopter shining the beam
Just the sweet sound of the morning breeze hitting the palm trees
Feeling like a lucid dream
I lace up the fresh white sneakers
Stepping out the front door with my head held high
Looking at the neighborhood thinking about how we used to hustle
Just to get a little piece of the pie
But not today
Easing the ignition of the '64
I love to drop the hammer, stomp down
Letting that California sunshine penetrate the leather interior
