Released: April 5, 2012

Featuring: Sam Hook Nipsey Hussle

Songwriter: The Game Nipsey Hussle

Producer: My Guy Mars

[Intro: DJ Skee]
Unfortunately all great things must come to an end
It looks like that time is upon us
Broadcastin' live from the Skee Lodge in Hollywood, Californ-I-A
Inside the great California Republic
I'm the world-famous DJ Skee signin' out with my brother, The Game
And before we do that, we still got a couple treats for y'all
We need to bring it back to the West Coast
Shout to my brother, Nipsey Hussle
Uncle Snoop, what up?
Anyways, 'til we meet again
See y'all on Skee TV
Money Gang, we out
DJ Skee

[Chorus]
My bills are paid
And everything's okay
It's like every day
Summertime in L.A

[Verse 1: The Game]
Yeah, I'm from Compton, home of the fiends
Home of the monsters, home of triple beams
Home of the shattered fuckin' dreams
Where most niggas I grew up with ain't make it to see they teens
Ain't no Freddy, ain't no Jason, but niggas too scared to dream
And they rippin' pages out of them books 'bout Dr. King
You don't wanna know half the shit I seen
Where readin' a magazine get you hit with a magazine
Niggas ain't scared to murder 'cause the jails too packed
Kill a nigga, he be out before the R.I.P. tat
I seen Raider snapbacks by Starter
Then I seen Dre make that Sox hat harder
Then I seen Makaveli go at Shawn Carter
Then I seen that block where B.I.G. got slaughtered
Then I knew it was my callin'
G the fuck up or die ballin'
Lace them red Chucks up, but die fallin'

[Chorus]
My bills are paid
And everything's okay
It's like every day
Summertime in L.A

[Verse 2: Nipsey Hussle]
Yuh, let's go
I'm risin' in this game and it feels great
Still tryna keep it real, niggas still fake
I'm so impatient, but I still wait
Dropped The Marathon in November, niggas still late
Still show love when I feel hate
On a scale of one to ten, need a high heel eight
Or better, blowin' this cheddar like I'm Bill Gates
Whatever, I'm in to win 'til this movie ends
Smokin' California, eatin' Peruvian
Out on Miami Beach, my niggas, a few of them
Dressed like Beverly Hills, the benches we usually wear
From wishin' on a star, nigga took it far
And if I lost it all to war, I wouldn't trip at all
Look, It sound crazy when I say it
But the fear of fallin' off is the only thing that could take it
I'm straight

[Chorus]
My bills are paid
And everything's okay
It's like every day
Summertime in L.A

[Verse 3: The Game]
I got my hoodie on, it's a Starter
I'ma rock this motherfucker for Trayvon Martin
I'ma rock this motherfucker for Trayvon's daughter
That he coulda had, where's his killer at? The whole hood is mad
That ain't the first time, won't be the last
See reflections of my past while I guzzle through this glass
Make me want to run up on you with the muzzle, "Where the cash?"
Retaliation is none, niggas can't afford the gas
Got a mansion in the Hills, Rottweilers by the gates
Red Ghost's in the driveway and ducks by the lake
Spendin' time with my daughter so them ducks gotta wait
Let a nigga call her a duck, he gon' eat a thirty-eight
I'm supposed to be this fuckin' rich
I'm supposed to be this fuckin' great
I'm a menace to society, no Larenz Tate
But me and my niggas straight and

[Chorus]
My bills are paid
And everything's okay
It's like every day
Summertime in L.A

[Outro: The Game]
DJ Skee

The Game

Jayceon Terrell Taylor was born November 29th, 1979 in Compton, California to two Crip-affiliated gang members. He grew up on Santana Blocc, a Crip-controlled neighborhood, with a large family of half and step siblings. He was hardened by a rough and violent childhood stinting from his parent’s drug use, domestic violence, and family members being killed through gang-related conflicts.

By 2000, a 21-year-old Jayceon Taylor was a member of the Cedar Block Pirus, a Blood-affiliated gang, and dealt drugs on the streets of Compton.

Late on the night of October 1st, 2001, Jayceon was alone in his apartment when the doorbell rang and after opening the door, he was jumped by three