Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song LAX Files, artist - The Game.
Date of issue: 31.12.2007
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
LAX Files |
Put your lighters up if you want to |
Pull your motherfucking Dodger cap |
Over your motherfucking eyes, 'til you can’t see shit |
I want you to go blind nigga |
So you can feel how I felt, when I was in that motherfucking coma |
Raised in the City of Angels where it’s safe |
And danger switch lanes so stranger drive slow (drive slow) |
Where bangers and gangstas, fast women’ll bank up |
Just, part of a face, that we show |
We got mountains and ocean, we move in slow motion |
Off that sticky you walk up to go |
I swear, ain’t nothing better there |
That’s why we all take our hats off to you, the one more |
Come to my hood hood, look at my block block |
That’s that project building, yeah that’s where I got shot, shot |
Cause I was more hood than Suge, had more rocks than Jay |
More scars on my face than the original «Scarface,"or the homeboy Scarface |
Al Pacino couldn’t be no gangsta, DeNiro in «Casino"he no gangsta |
Wanna be, wanna see, wan' get a shovel |
dig Tookie up nigga, cause he know gangstas |
Niggas think cause they watched «Menace"a couple times |
Seen Cube in «Boyz N the Hood"and pressed rewind |
That you could survive when a real Crip |
run up on your car and flexed a nine? |
You must be out of yo' mind, a real Blood’ll put you out of yo' mind |
Just stay the fuck up outta my hood |
where my niggas take you up outta yo' shine |
It ain’t a movie dawg, hell yeah this a real fucking Uzi dawg |
I’m 'bout to hop inside my Impala, try to keep up, don’t lose me y’all |
I know the real O-Dog, and that nigga know the real Game |
I call him Lorenz Tate, and he ain’t never been in no gang |
But he been in my house house, and he sat on my couch couch |
While I put one in the air so yeah that nigga know what I’m 'bout, 'bout |
I’m 'bout my hood, I’m 'bout my block, I’m 'bout my chips |
So if the rap money stop and I punch a clock |
catch you slippin at a light |
You jack niggas, out-of-towners, and rap niggas |
And ball players cause we ball player, we chop it up, with them trap niggas |
We (OutKasts), we (Big Boi’s), (Ludacris) with them big toys |
Where I’m from it’s only two things |
standing on the corner, me and that liquor store |
Look what the Bloods did to Weezy, look what the Crips did to Jeezy |
This gangbangin shit ain’t nothing to play with |
Me and Snoop Dogg just made it look easy |
Y’all niggas got this L.A. shit real fucked up man |
Niggas better start respectin what the fuck we about man |
We take niggas the fuck out, this shit ain’t no movie dawg |
This shit is real — Crips, Bloods, Ese’s |
We hold shit down, this L.A. |
Word to shit on my face, put a motherfucking star behind it |
What the fuck I am, Star-face |
L.A. Chronicles, L.A.X. |
Files |
Case closed |