City of Los(t) Angel(e)s

[Intro: Blu]

The Sin City of dreams

Lean to it with me and smoke, see through the mist, glitter and the gleam

Might see the meaning of glow, fancy cars, diamonds rings

Nice restaurants, finer things

Lost our souls, hopes and dreams

In the city of angels

[Verse 1: Blu]

Okay, ayy, now let me tell you guys a story 'bout a place I know

Where everybody and they mama see gold and wanna go

The hoes be on they TV in bikinis and bras

And half the niggas here be rockin' more glitter than broads

Figure it's the city of dreams, but it ain't real

It's actors and rappers all after the same deal

Filming what goes down just down the street

Where they down forty ounces and smoke pounds of weed

You know, niggas, just like niggas from y'all parts

Except we got spots, we don't shop at Walmart

Ballers either play ball or sling by the ball park

And every hood is run by a black version of Karl Marx

And all dark corners in Cali

Got a crackhead that got sick of living off the county

And out of every out-of-towner tryna make a living here

I can find a nigga sick of living here

Nigga, this is Los Angeles, folks

[Chorus: Blu]

Fancy cars, diamonds rings

Nice restaurants and those finer things

Lost our souls, our hopes and dreams

With the city of angels that sold their wings

Fancy cars, diamonds rings

Nice restaurants and those finer things

Lost our souls, our hopes and dreams

With the city of angels that sold their wings

[Verse 2: Blu]

And you can catch me dippin' through the ghetto like a devil on skates

In my Delta '88, Old Yeller on the plates

With the pedal to the metal, blowing hay

Feel the bass from the levels of my treble, tell 'em

Hell's hot as the spots that pedal weight

Where the felons smell the jakes on the block a mile away

Come out to play, you know not what to say

'Cause they sling heavy metal with they metal by they waist

LA, LA, it's not a place to praise

Yet there's still not a place in the States I rather stay

Was born, raised, moved out and came back

Same shame, still I can't blame the gangs for the crack

We just paint Lacs, play pockets, stay black

Bust raps, bust caps, get bust at, and bust back

Simple as that, pen pushes the max

Sycophant hood rats, broke-ass Latins and Blacks

But that's Los Angeles, folks

[Chorus: Blu]

Fancy cars, diamonds rings

Nice restaurants and those finer things

Lost our souls, our hopes and dreams

With the city of angels that sold their wings

Fancy cars, diamonds rings

Nice restaurants and those finer things

Lost our souls, our hopes and dreams

With the city of angels that sold their wings

[Verse 3: Blu]

Damn, it's been a minute since Pac made a song about the golden state

And since them days, we done dropped low in ranks

'Cause ain't shit popping with rap, we'd rather fill up banks

Tryna act like Phillip Banks

And it's cool, them fools from out of town get the rap loop

And if they need that West coast flavor, they just ask Snoop

What happened to the niggas with attitudes

Throwing up dubs and stomping out wack rapping crews?

Y'all got fag fools invading the gang space

That made Terminator the governor of this lame state

The same place they be the king with bars

Is the same place they decorate the streets with stars

And you start to wonder why it ain't none in the sky

'Cause the cops got it hotter than the month of July

And even though I hate on CA, I can't lie

I'll probably never leave

Sunshine and palm trees

And the women and the—

[Chorus: Blu]

Fancy cars, diamonds rings

Nice restaurants and those finer things

Lost our souls, our hopes and dreams

With the city of angels that sold their wings

Fancy cars, diamonds rings

Nice restaurants and those finer things

Lost our souls, our hopes and dreams

In the city of angels

[Verse 4: Co$$]

Check, I'm Westernplayalistic

My western way of livin'

I pen subscription for the pimps and players, gangsters swimmin'

In that pool of sharks, even for the gangster women

Representin' school of hard knocks where they bullets scar

It's like a badge of honor

Look like my habitat's a savage sauna

Blocks of molten lava, pick and pack them llamas

No respect, slap your mama

A lot of gangsters moving

And a lot of gangsters rolling O's, treys, and deuces

Vest of armor, vest to vest, west to west, wrestle death and I'm fresh to death, adept in my gangsta music

Ain't no gangster neither, never claim to be a G

You be a G, OG, I be a G-O-D

Okay, okay, for my niggas bangin' 808

Niggas 'bout to touch down, release date's a day away

Hopin' you can stay away

From the block that keep them chained, they never change, they keep them trapped like a paper weight

That hold them down, I'm rollin' downtown, past the Shell Station

Where the Black Panthers gather in this jail nation

Yeah, my niggas tryna be free

They representin' blackness, so raise a black fist to the pale faces

In these racist time, I gotta escape

Can't wait for the bang, I gotta shake in a race of time

I'm reppin' LA, West-side of the Palm

I get it on, give it up, get it gone 'til the day I die