lirik lagu blu - city of los(t) ang(e)les
[intro: blu]
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
[verse 1: blu]
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
[hook: blu (x2)]
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
[verse 2: blu]
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 b-ss 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 -ss latins and blacks
but that’s los angeles folks
[hook: blu (x2)]
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
[verse 3: blu]
d-mn, 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 f-g 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…
[hook: blu (x2)]
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
[verse 4: co$$]
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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