Lyrics Last Night In LA - Krept, KONAN

Last Night In LA

I’ma buy a Benz cause that’s what niggas do, you understand me?
I’ma smoke weed cause that’s what niggas do
I’ma pack a gat cause that’s what niggas do
You understand?
I’ma get drunk, cause that’s what niggas do
I’ve come a long way from flipping an ounce
Money hid in the couch
Got your chick in the house
With my dick in her mouth
I’ll bet you’re listening now
Police sniffing around
Cause I’m big in the north and I’m big in the south
Bring my tour to your town, make you sit in the crowd
My pockets filled up with pounds
Just like my business account
Cause I grind like I’m broke, flight to the show
Done about five in a row, mind on my dough
But I still slide in your hoe like I didn’t know
You can get it right off the boat, right from my phone
Let me just type in a code, life on the road
Go ahead, try it if you want, I bet you won’t
And I’ve got a knife in my coat I hide on the low
Round here, it’s do or you die, die if you don’t
And they talk like they’re here but they’re never in the bits
We’ve got it locked from the 7 to the 6
I know I shouldn’t be telling you this shit
I know you’re friends but it’s better when you kiss
So fuck all the talk, get straight to the action
Party in the 6 and I’m drunk in a mansion
Canadian girl said she loving my accent
I left with your girl but I came with the mandem
I go to shows from coast to coast
In Novikov, propose a toast
I’m known to win, I go for gold
She home alone, she phone my phone
I’m like her drug, she overdose
They know the ends, they know I’m road
They know I’m street, they know the code
My head’s hot, my shoulders cold
I roll with Muj, smoke the doj'
Big spliff, roll the roach
Slick Rick, Koney Kones
Tick tick, Roley’s gold
DSTRKT, loads of hoes
Mixed with gold Patrón
Big tits, show me those
Quick dick, drove her home
Biscuits, Toblerone
Flip bricks?
No, you don’t
Big whips?
No, you’re broke
Click click, holy ghost
Switch kicks, throw my clothes
Calling my name, that’s a real risk
I’ve thought about it and I’m still pissed
Cause I don’t care if you’re new or a legend
You saw what happened to Will Smith
I’m the wrong one to start off
All they’ve sold is a half oz
Now everybody thinks they’re Escobar
Looked at my DJ like nah, Cos
They’re taking this ting too far, Cos
They want the throne but it’s ours, Cos
If they want, we can swing it out
Just know I’ve got the ting parked off
You’re talking tough but you need to stop
You don’t put in work, you need a job
Look, I ain’t even been on Breakfast Club
But they envy when they see the god, oh
Can’t talk to me, talk to my PR
These dickheads think that they’re cowboys
Till they end up in the ER
Summertime in my fur coat
7 sides on these dirt roads
We went from having scraps to 9s
While my big bros went down the church roads
(Jesus Christ!) Went from a road yout to a rock star
Got bread, now I get Pop-Tarts
The ends is fucked and they blame us for it
So, you know what?
I made a foundation to make up for it
(Fuck off!)
I know that shit just went over your head as well, man
It always does, man
I don’t wanna hear these niggas talking about bars anymore, man
It’s fucking embarrassing, fucking draw-out
You know who runs this shit, man (come on, G!)
(Play) Look out for the boy Golden Boy Muj
(Dirty) Tally, I see you, my bro (come on, G!)
Play Dirty every time (that's all I think about)
Oi, Misch, lock that off, man, I’m finished
When are you gonna come back to Canada?
From the 7 to the 6 baby
Come on G!*