Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Do Know Wrong , by - Propaganda. Song from the album Crooked, in the genre Рэп и хип-хопRelease date: 18.05.2017
Record label: Humble Beast
Song language: English
Do Know Wrong |
| Maybe I’m crazy, she could do no wrong |
| How could you blame me? |
| Yeah, that’s my baby, yeah |
| Crazy, but she could do no wrong |
| But how could you blame me? |
| Have you ever been to Cali? |
| Yeah |
| I wrote the smog a love letter, told her don’t forget me |
| I learn to love you better once I get the liquor in me |
| Loyalty can be tricky |
| Earthquakes and gang bangs couldn’t shake me |
| Down at Poly High posted with Polynesians |
| What up, uce? |
| They probably lookin' for a reason to make your job loose |
| Just tellin' ya’ll truth, admitting I’m co-dependent |
| Defending the same streets that got my uncle life ended |
| On the corner for weeks |
| You like «It's dirty and it stinks, but it’s mine for the keeps» |
| And chasing my calling, it keeps me long gone |
| I let the palm trees welcome me home, it’s southern Cali yo |
| Maybe I’m crazy, she could do no wrong |
| But how could you blame me? |
| Yeah, that’s my baby, yeah |
| Crazy, she could do no wrong |
| But how could you blame me? |
| Have you ever been to Cali? |
| Yeah |
| I wrote the smog a love letter, told her don’t forget me |
| I learn to love you better when that Fatburger in me |
| And raising my two daughters in a region that don’t got water |
| But bordered by an ocean |
| Rush hour all day, a little joke we play |
| Infinite grid lock man, how you call that a freeway? |
| L.A. got me making excuses for her |
| Yeah, she got issues but you don’t know what we been through |
| Three riots, crack attack, Pachuco vatos |
| But you can’t stay mad after having a King Taco |
| What is it with you? |
| I tried, I can’t quit you |
| I leave, I just miss you, I’m the only one that gets you |
| Maybe I’m crazy, but she could do no wrong |
| But how could you blame me? |
| Yeah, that’s my baby, yeah |
| Crazy, she could do no wrong |
| But how could you blame me? |
| Have you ever been to Cali? |
| Yeah |
| Circle back round eleven to grab that work stash |
| In the bush off the on-ramp |
| 405 and Atlantic, don’t panic |
| Lemme warn transplants between cost of living and traffic |
| You should stay put if you ain’t tryna learn Spanish |
| It’s real deal, it’s real ill, it’s real love |
| It’s illogical, them cold streets got no chill |
| Can’t explain it, you gotta be built for it |
| Hollywood crush dreams, be ready to kill for it |
| Good Lord, the blocks between Slauson and Florence |
| Turn your future into urns, get burned like Fish Laurence |
| And one time for the west coasters |
| Love from Vallejo all the way down to Diego |
| Low rider, scraper bike, beach cruiser, dragon cruise |
| Dogtown mayors be skating in empty pools |
| Me I’m down in Long Beach, but grew up off the 10 East |
| Overcrowded, overpriced, and I don’t even think twice |
| Maybe I’m crazy, but she could do no wrong |
| But how could you blame me? |
| Yeah, that’s my baby, yeah |
| Crazy, she could do no wrong |
| But how could you blame me? |
| Have you ever been to Cali? |
| Yeah |