well there s no denying i come from the west i m used to palm trees and gold messy crest in santa barbara me oh my you make my blood run true but now i carry a butterfly knife in the pocket of my shoe well i was walkin down the street with cops and drunk college girls in the corner of my eye when we got to the pad they were bumpin cocaine and i cannot remember a thing in vista city so alive in my mind vista city with the island in my eye well on the safari we fought by the cliffs with blood on the concrete with sand on my lips the glitchy trap house music bumped to the beat of the waves below and in the kitchen they drew kitchen knives to make us go well we and and guitar necks than my way oh i would still do it again well vista city so alive in my mind vista city with the island in my eye 