Yo, you ever roll up somewhere you don’t belong
Sometimes you think the spot’s empty
But it ain't
Let me tell you a story, West Coast style

Too hot, too cold, gotta get it just right
In the wrong crib, middle of the night
Watch where you step, don’t get too bold
Or the streets turn icy, too hot, too cold

Shorty slid in through the back, real smooth
Saw a mansion on the hills, thought she made the right move
Porch light flicked, but no car in sight
Door cracked open, so she crept inside, right

She peeped the gold chains, stacks on the table
TV on mute, still ran the cable
Three chairs sittin’ in the dining room glow
Sat in the first one, but the frame was too low

Next one too stiff, last one just plush
Sat back, leaned in, till the wood went
She hopped up quick, heard a noise in the hall
Heart stopped cold when she saw the paw prints on the wall

Too hot, too cold, gotta get it just right
In the wrong crib, middle of the night
Watch where you step, don’t get too bold
Or the streets turn icy, too hot, too cold

Kitchen had bowls full of steam in the air
Took a bite from the first, burnt tongue—nightmare
Second one? Nah, ice cold like the block
Third one was hittin’, so she ate up the pot

Stomach full now, but she feelin’ real tired
Saw three big beds, silk sheets, real fire
First one felt like a slab of stone
Second too soft, made her sink to the bones

Last one? Yeah, that one fit real tight
Knocked out cold, middle of the night
Didn’t hear the door when it creaked real slow
Didn’t see the shadows when they stepped real close

Too hot, too cold, gotta get it just right
In the wrong crib, middle of the night
Watch where you step, don’t get too bold
Or the streets turn icy, too hot, too cold

Big paws, gold fangs
Three shadows loomed
One big, one medium
One small with the goons
Papa growled deep, said
Who’s in my home
Mama checked the fridge
Ayo, my food gone

Lil’ homie sniffed, then he peeped upstairs
Saw a curl peeking out, laid back in the chair
She in my bed, she using my pillow
Shorty woke up to a big black widow

No time for talk, she hopped out the back
Fence too high, but she cleared that fast
Hit the pavement runnin’, didn’t look behind
Lesson learned quick
Don’t mess with what ain’t mine

Too hot, too cold, gotta get it just right
In the wrong crib, middle of the night
Watch where you step, don’t get too bold
Or the streets turn icy, too hot, too cold

Yo, moral of the story
Don’t walk up in spots that ain’t yours
The streets don’t play fair
Neither do the bears