| I’m coolin' in LA
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| The place where stars are born
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| And it ain’t never cold outside
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| Because the rain will never stop
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| And the stars ain’t only in the sky
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| Because the stars lay on the floor
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| And I-I-I-I, I got the city on lock if you wanna explore
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| And baby I been coolin' in LA
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| Pull up to the Rosco’s
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| Only guy here, cause niggas from here
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| Know you gotta swerve around the potholes
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| Eatin' chickens with these chickens, politicin'
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| We gon' get a new team or not
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| They up and down like Impala switches
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| All these girls got extensions, even with the long hair
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| Everybody trippin', we mix Ciroc with Patron here
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| Don’t walk around alone here, everybody from a gang
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| Niggas ask you where you from
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| That mean you gotta run that chain
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| Smokin' on that purple rain
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| We only smoke a certain strain
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| Soon as you call twice nigga
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| Welcome to the circle maine
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| Catch me off of rodeo, Alamita, Figueroa
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| Whoop these rappers ass, they all bums nigga, skid row
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| And I ain’t dissin' homeless people, I be down there feedin' niggas
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| 100 days, 100 nights, we killin' for no reason nigga
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| La-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la, look at me in my Impala
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| In LA
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| The place where stars are born
|
| And it ain’t never cold outside
|
| Because the rain will never stop
|
| And the stars ain’t only in the sky
|
| Because the stars lay on the floor
|
| And I-I-I-I, I got the city on lock if you wanna explore
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| And baby I been coolin' in LA
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| La-la-la-la-la-la
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| Baby when you comin' to LA
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| La-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la
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| I’m from that big blue raggin', tip toe taggin'
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| Mustard and mayonnaise, with on the wagon
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| Brown paper baggin', baby mama naggin'
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| the skinny jeans, gucci straight saggin'
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| Pleasure of, and agony, black jeans Cagney
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| The wood is the wood, but the hood is like a cavity
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| So much tragedy, rarely see clarity
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| I’m like a, charity, sincerely
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| Los Angeles, scandalous, handle us how?
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| We the ones you get your swag from, write that down
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| Home of the green leaf, watch out now
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| High school lesson, y’all can drop out now
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| California highway, California my way
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| I do it that way, then roll a fat jay
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| La-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la, look at me in my Cadillac car
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| In LA
|
| The place where stars are born
|
| And it ain’t never cold outside
|
| Because the rain will never stop
|
| And the stars ain’t only in the sky
|
| Because the stars lay on the floor
|
| And I-I-I-I, I got the city on lock if you wanna explore
|
| And baby I been coolin' in LA
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| La-la-la-la-la-la
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| Baby when you comin' to LA
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| La-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la
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| I got LA poppin', cars be hoppin'
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| No refreshing these hoes, they keep shoppin'
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| Sunset droppin', chicken heads flockin'
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| No recess, my flows, there’s no stoppin'
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| DeLorian rollin', pockets stay swollen
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| Drive down to, East Los is where I’m goin'
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| Cholo swagger, qe pasa wassup?
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| I’m rockin it, (inhale?)
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| LA native, LA Raider, LA Rams, motherfucken' traitors
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| LA Clippers, LA Lakers, trippin' off Kobe, you the motherfucken' greatest
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| LA Dodgers, finger to the Padres
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| East Los niggas sayin' chinga to madres
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| La-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la, look at me in my fancy car
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| In LA
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| The place where stars are born
|
| And it ain’t never cold outside
|
| Because the rain will never stop
|
| And the stars ain’t only in the sky
|
| Because the stars lay on the floor
|
| And I-I-I-I, I got the city on lock if you wanna explore
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| And baby I been coolin' in Compton
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| (Compton, Compton, Compton, Compton, Compton)
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| It’s time to blackout, time to spit this crack out
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| Niggas been fiendin' for this shit, aftermath, crackhouse
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| The way I spit, niggas’ll think I pulled the mack out
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| I said the way I spit, niggas’ll think I blew J-Lo back out
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| Still Compton nigga, fuck y’all thought I went on vacation?
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| Same nigga that used to break in houses and steal PlayStation’s
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| I hate waitin'
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| I told Dre to put out Detox, or I’m a do it
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| This is that nigga, The Chronic mixed with embalming fluid
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| Bring your chin here blood, so I can put this lama to it
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| Disrespectful nigga, see this window? |
| I see ya mama through it
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| Do it for the coast, so we can toast to it
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| Who showed you all the Pirus? |
| The SA’s and how the Los do it?
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| Similar to how the vice lords and folks do it
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| You remember, I’ll rest, I’m the closest to it
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| Put on for my city bitch cause I’m supposed to do it
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| Straight outta Compton, I’m the fucken movie poster to it, nigga |