| Los Angeles Mid-City in fact
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| I used to run around the swap meet with my liquor store hat
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| Before I ever even rapped
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| I would — be there just loitering
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| with my Raider Starter jacket tryin' to get some embroidery
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| All my homies older than me
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| Always lookin' over my shoulder makin' sure that I know what I needed to know
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| to be
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| I’m not a veterano O. G
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| I just studied at The Good Life to be a better emcee
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| knock on wood
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| that I never went to prison
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| Did a couple days in county
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| Quick in and out the system
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| To me- LA will always be the chillin' villainism
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| at the catechism
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| Tube socks and Cortez
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| or flip flops
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| where you hear the surfinest dude
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| screamin' beiotch
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| Jerry curl, mullets
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| skaters and gangsters
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| who ain’t afraid to pull it
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| with so much marijuana in the lbc
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| it’s kinda hard not hookin' up a bag o' trees
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| kids saggin' at three
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| wrappin' a sheet around a dead body in the streets
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| went to Toe Jam’s bustin' listenin' to beats
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| most the rap I listened to came from the east
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| except for ATL, CPO and King T
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| saw a bunch of in and outs with DJ Speed
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| Mixmaster Spade DJ Trane with an E
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| The telescopes out anyone can be reached
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| word to RBX there’s no stars in Long Beach |