Blu, Cashus King - City of Los(t) Ang(e)les lyrics
[Blu, Cashus King - City of Lost Angeles lyrics]
The Sin City of dreams
Lean to it with me and smoke
See through the mist glitter and the gleam
Might see the meaning of glow
Fancy cars, diamonds rings, nice restaurants
Finer things lost our souls
Hopes and dreams in the city of angels
Now let me tell you guys a
Story bout a place I know
Where everybody and they mama see
Gold and wanna go
The hoes be on they TV in bikinis and bras
And half the niggas here be
Rockin' more glitter than broads
Figure it's the city of dreams
But it ain't real
It's actors and rappers all
After the same deal
Filming what goes down just down the street
Where they down 40 ounces
And smoke pounds of weed ya know, Niggas
Just like niggas from y'all parts
Except we got spots, we don't shop at Walmart
Ballers either play ball or sling
By the ball park and every hood is run by a
Black version of Karl Marx
And all dark corners in Cali
Got a crackhead that got sick
Of living off the county
And out of every out-of-towner tryna
Make a living here
I can find a nigga sick of living here
Fancy cars, diamonds rings, nice restaurants
And those finer things
(We) Lost our souls, our hopes and dreams
With the city of angels that sold their wings
And you can catch me
Dippin' through the ghetto
Like a devil on skates in my Delta '88
Old Yeller on the plates
With the pedal to the metal, blowing hay
Feel the bass from the levels of the treble
Tell 'em
Hell's hot as the spots that pedal weight
Where the felons smell the jakes on
The block a mile away
Come out to play, you know what not to say
Cause they sling heavy metal with
They metal by they waist
LA, LA it's not a place to praise
Yet there's still not a place in
The States I rather stay
Was born, raised, moved out and came back
Same shame
Still I can't blame the gangs for the crack
We just paint Lacs, play pockets, stay black
Bust raps, bust caps
Give us that and bust back
Simple as that, pen pushes the max
Sycophant hood rats
Broke ass Latins and blacks
But that's Los Angeles folks
Fancy cars, diamonds rings, nice restaurants
And those finer things
(We) Lost our souls, our hopes and dreams
With the city of angels that sold their wings
Damn, it's been a minute since
Pac made a song about the golden state
And since them days
We done dropped low in ranks
Cause ain't shit popping with rap
We rather fill up banks, tryna act
Like Phillip Banks and it's cool
Them fools from outta town get the rap loop
And if they need that West coast flavor
They just ask Snoop
What happened to the Niggas Wit attitudes
Throwing up dubs and stomping
Out wack rapping crews
Y'all got fag fools invading the gang space
That made Terminator the governor
Of this lame state
The same place, they be the king with bars
Is the same place they decorate
The streets with stars
And you start to wonder why it
Ain't none in the sky
Cause the cops got it hotter
Than the month of July
And even tho I hate on CA I can't lie
I'll probably never leave
Sunshine and palm trees and the women and the
Fancy cars, diamonds rings, nice restaurants
And those finer things
(We) Lost our souls, our hopes and dreams
With the city of angels that sold their wings
Check, I'm Westernplayalistic
My western way of livin'
I pen subscription for the pimps and playas
Gangstas swimmin' in that pool of sharks
Even for the gangsta women
Represent the school of hard knocks
Where they bullets star
It's like a badge of honor
My habitat's a savage sauna
Blocks of molten lava
Pick and pack them llamas
No respect, slap your mama
A lot of gangsters moving
And a lot of gangsters rolling O's
Vest to armor, vest to vest
West to west, wrestle death
And I'm fresh to death
Adept in my gangsta music
Ain't no gangsta, neither
Never claim to be a G
You be a G, OG, I be a G-O-D
Ok, ok, for my niggas bangin' 808
Niggas bout to touch down
Release dates a day away
Hopin' you can stay away
From the block that keep them chained
They never change
They keep them trapped like a paper weight
That hold them down, I'm rollin' downtown
Past the Shell Station
Where the Black Panthers gather
In this jail nation
Yeah, my niggas tryna be free
They representin' blackness
So raise a black fist to the pale faces
In these racist time, I gotta escape
Can't wait for the bang
I gotta shake in a race of time
I'm reppin' LA, West-side of the Palm
I get it on, give it up, get it gone
Till the day I die
Lean to it with me and smoke
See through the mist glitter and the gleam
Might see the meaning of glow
Fancy cars, diamonds rings, nice restaurants
Finer things lost our souls
Hopes and dreams in the city of angels
Now let me tell you guys a
Story bout a place I know
Where everybody and they mama see
Gold and wanna go
The hoes be on they TV in bikinis and bras
And half the niggas here be
Rockin' more glitter than broads
Figure it's the city of dreams
But it ain't real
It's actors and rappers all
After the same deal
Filming what goes down just down the street
Where they down 40 ounces
And smoke pounds of weed ya know, Niggas
Just like niggas from y'all parts
Except we got spots, we don't shop at Walmart
Ballers either play ball or sling
By the ball park and every hood is run by a
Black version of Karl Marx
And all dark corners in Cali
Got a crackhead that got sick
Of living off the county
And out of every out-of-towner tryna
Make a living here
I can find a nigga sick of living here
Fancy cars, diamonds rings, nice restaurants
And those finer things
(We) Lost our souls, our hopes and dreams
With the city of angels that sold their wings
And you can catch me
Dippin' through the ghetto
Like a devil on skates in my Delta '88
Old Yeller on the plates
With the pedal to the metal, blowing hay
Feel the bass from the levels of the treble
Tell 'em
Hell's hot as the spots that pedal weight
Where the felons smell the jakes on
The block a mile away
Come out to play, you know what not to say
Cause they sling heavy metal with
They metal by they waist
LA, LA it's not a place to praise
Yet there's still not a place in
The States I rather stay
Was born, raised, moved out and came back
Same shame
Still I can't blame the gangs for the crack
We just paint Lacs, play pockets, stay black
Bust raps, bust caps
Give us that and bust back
Simple as that, pen pushes the max
Sycophant hood rats
Broke ass Latins and blacks
But that's Los Angeles folks
Fancy cars, diamonds rings, nice restaurants
And those finer things
(We) Lost our souls, our hopes and dreams
With the city of angels that sold their wings
Damn, it's been a minute since
Pac made a song about the golden state
And since them days
We done dropped low in ranks
Cause ain't shit popping with rap
We rather fill up banks, tryna act
Like Phillip Banks and it's cool
Them fools from outta town get the rap loop
And if they need that West coast flavor
They just ask Snoop
What happened to the Niggas Wit attitudes
Throwing up dubs and stomping
Out wack rapping crews
Y'all got fag fools invading the gang space
That made Terminator the governor
Of this lame state
The same place, they be the king with bars
Is the same place they decorate
The streets with stars
And you start to wonder why it
Ain't none in the sky
Cause the cops got it hotter
Than the month of July
And even tho I hate on CA I can't lie
I'll probably never leave
Sunshine and palm trees and the women and the
Fancy cars, diamonds rings, nice restaurants
And those finer things
(We) Lost our souls, our hopes and dreams
With the city of angels that sold their wings
Check, I'm Westernplayalistic
My western way of livin'
I pen subscription for the pimps and playas
Gangstas swimmin' in that pool of sharks
Even for the gangsta women
Represent the school of hard knocks
Where they bullets star
It's like a badge of honor
My habitat's a savage sauna
Blocks of molten lava
Pick and pack them llamas
No respect, slap your mama
A lot of gangsters moving
And a lot of gangsters rolling O's
Vest to armor, vest to vest
West to west, wrestle death
And I'm fresh to death
Adept in my gangsta music
Ain't no gangsta, neither
Never claim to be a G
You be a G, OG, I be a G-O-D
Ok, ok, for my niggas bangin' 808
Niggas bout to touch down
Release dates a day away
Hopin' you can stay away
From the block that keep them chained
They never change
They keep them trapped like a paper weight
That hold them down, I'm rollin' downtown
Past the Shell Station
Where the Black Panthers gather
In this jail nation
Yeah, my niggas tryna be free
They representin' blackness
So raise a black fist to the pale faces
In these racist time, I gotta escape
Can't wait for the bang
I gotta shake in a race of time
I'm reppin' LA, West-side of the Palm
I get it on, give it up, get it gone
Till the day I die
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