| Put your lighters up if you want to
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| Pull your motherfucking Dodger cap
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| Over your motherfucking eyes, 'til you can’t see shit
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| I want you to go blind nigga
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| So you can feel how I felt, when I was in that motherfucking coma
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| Raised in the City of Angels where it’s safe
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| And danger switch lanes so stranger drive slow (drive slow)
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| Where bangers and gangstas, fast women’ll bank up
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| Just, part of a face, that we show
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| We got mountains and ocean, we move in slow motion
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| Off that sticky you walk up to go
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| I swear, ain’t nothing better there
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| That’s why we all take our hats off to you, the one more
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| Come to my hood hood, look at my block block
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| That’s that project building, yeah that’s where I got shot, shot
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| Cause I was more hood than Suge, had more rocks than Jay
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| More scars on my face than the original «Scarface,"or the homeboy Scarface
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| Al Pacino couldn’t be no gangsta, DeNiro in «Casino"he no gangsta
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| Wanna be, wanna see, wan' get a shovel
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| dig Tookie up nigga, cause he know gangstas
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| Niggas think cause they watched «Menace"a couple times
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| Seen Cube in «Boyz N the Hood"and pressed rewind
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| That you could survive when a real Crip
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| run up on your car and flexed a nine?
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| You must be out of yo' mind, a real Blood’ll put you out of yo' mind
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| Just stay the fuck up outta my hood
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| where my niggas take you up outta yo' shine
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| It ain’t a movie dawg, hell yeah this a real fucking Uzi dawg
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| I’m 'bout to hop inside my Impala, try to keep up, don’t lose me y’all
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| I know the real O-Dog, and that nigga know the real Game
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| I call him Lorenz Tate, and he ain’t never been in no gang
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| But he been in my house house, and he sat on my couch couch
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| While I put one in the air so yeah that nigga know what I’m 'bout, 'bout
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| I’m 'bout my hood, I’m 'bout my block, I’m 'bout my chips
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| So if the rap money stop and I punch a clock
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| catch you slippin at a light
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| You jack niggas, out-of-towners, and rap niggas
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| And ball players cause we ball player, we chop it up, with them trap niggas
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| We (OutKasts), we (Big Boi’s), (Ludacris) with them big toys
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| Where I’m from it’s only two things
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| standing on the corner, me and that liquor store
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| Look what the Bloods did to Weezy, look what the Crips did to Jeezy
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| This gangbangin shit ain’t nothing to play with
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| Me and Snoop Dogg just made it look easy
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| Y’all niggas got this L.A. shit real fucked up man
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| Niggas better start respectin what the fuck we about man
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| We take niggas the fuck out, this shit ain’t no movie dawg
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| This shit is real — Crips, Bloods, Ese’s
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| We hold shit down, this L.A.
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| Word to shit on my face, put a motherfucking star behind it
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| What the fuck I am, Star-face
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| L.A. Chronicles, L.A.X. |
| Files
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| Case closed |