Realifornia Grit

(yeah) (forty-eight, Gilroy represent)

Lock the gate, turn the key,

yeah the news is on blast Highlights on the screen,

another shadow from the past They talking 180,

trying to paint him as a beast But out here in the

Garlic City, we just want our brothers' peace From the 408 to

Salinas, where the valley air is cold Mr.

Grinch in solitary, stories waiting to be told They see a headline,

we see a warrior in the cage Writing chapters of a legacy

on a blood-stained page.

It’s that Realifornia life,

it ain’t meant for everyone

From the rising of the red to the setting of the sun

In the ST, we trust,

through the struggle and the pain Bound by the soil,

washing sins in the rain Garlic Capital king,

yeah, he’s gone but never ghost Raising up a glass for the

brother we love most.

Solitary confinement, four walls and a steel door Pending charges on his

head, he ain't coming home no more But a print stays forever,

etched in decades of the grit Make sure the world remembers how

a Norteño never quit Vicious with the steel,

yeah, the toll had to be paid Decisions made in darkness leave

a mark that’ll never fade They call it a crime,

we call it life in the mix Gilroy on the map,

408, doing double-digit bits.

Yeah,

shout out Mr. Grinch.

Young and reckless, now a legend in the SHU.

Salinas Valley winds blowing,

but the flag stays true.

It’s a lifestyle, not a hobby.

Realifornia... that's all we know.

Stay solid, brother.