Songtexte.com Drucklogo

L.A. Times Songtext
von Nana

L.A. Times Songtext

Yawns...
What time is it?
Damn...


Look, I′m on my way to the Crenshaw Mall meet with the homies
5 O'Clock on a Saturday evening I′m on my lonely
Text me when you get to your destination my brother told me
Let me hold 10 reaching inside of his members only
I left the crib Marlton and King is where I stood at
I ain't tryin' dance with the devil, watch where my foot at
I′m just trynna kick it and chill, know where I′m good at
And hit the Magic Johnson Theater and bag a hoodrat
A few from Crenshaw Westchester a couple redbones
One false move, you in a redzone
Ain't no love in the heart of the city is in my headphones
Didn′t think I'd get into trouble but was I dead wrong
I′m at the food court, I see niggas tryna approach (Ayo, ayo)
Walking right in my direction now my back against the ropes
And they start to scope, I look away not to provoke
I can see this going downhill fast I'm on a slope
They like 5 deep one of them niggas I went to school with
All I′m thinking is damn I'm finna end up on a news clip
I reached for my phone to text the homies but I refrain
They asked where you from, hold up, record scratch — freeze frame
Never banged a day in my life, what should I do?
Not to mention they look angry as hell, my point of view
I see an opening on the left or should I break right
Stand ground and take the whooping or should I take flight
The one I recognize wore a hardwood classic
His sisters at the two twelve every week she ratchet
Me and his cousin had Mrs. Quinn and Mrs. Baccus
That was my nigga taught me how to finger roll in practice
Should I say I know his cousin or end up pleading the fifth
It ain't really looking too good as I′m reading his lips
Damn, where the fuck the homies right now I need an assist
Thinking if I got put on I wouldn′t be in this shit

One, two, three, four, five
Will I leave here dead or alive
Five, four, three, two, one
Back to the wall, run, young nigga, run

What it is loc, who you came with?
Where your fam from? What's your language?
Oh, you from 57th, we on the same shit
Who your peoples nigga? Who they name is?


You know you really shouldn′t be strolling through spots that you not supposed to
I know who you is my nigga 'cause I′m supposed to
We should take this walk before you hop in that ride
You come in here with no weapon that shit could be suicide
Grab your shit, we headed up to Crenshaw, nigga put your rag on
I got my flag on a nigga tripping today it's gon be his last one
′Cause I just lost two big homies talk to my other niggas
But they can't do shit for me our minds different
And mines trippin' I take off you think LeBron lifting
I′m off a Xan and a 5th nigga my mind trippin′
I press a nigga like a collar shit
I'm out for revenge plus amends I put a dollar first
It′s 'bout five we can smoke till it′s darker
I hope niggas walk in the wrong neighborhood 'cause we often
Get caught up into some shit that I never would′ve been apart of
From the other side so I chose my flag for protection how my brother ride
This shit genetics nigga
We at the food court like where you headed nigga
Think you know somebody they ain't with us nigga
Why nervous cuzz? Why you twitching nigga? Freeze frame
Truth be told I'm scared sometimes bothered and protected
Chose this life out of tradition have no choice I have no ethics
Put my pride above it all, I put my flag above of that
I can′t go back to the hood If I don′t press I double back
(I double back)
Like what's popping whats the deal nigga where your partners
Why you looking like you ′bout to make a run that ain't no option
We should go and take this walk before you hop in that ride
You come in here with no weapon, that shit could be suicide

Songtext kommentieren

Log dich ein um einen Eintrag zu schreiben.
Schreibe den ersten Kommentar!

Beliebte Songtexte
von Nana

Fans

»L.A. Times« gefällt bisher niemandem.