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| California ain't a state it's a army! [Verse 1] One f**kin nigga in the projects killin' The same motherf**ker that would burn down the villains Where the niggas blunt full of that You know, who gone take you back to Compton In that 64 two door Sub woofers in the trunk kickin' that lethal injection A hood nigga lost with no direction So he bought a black smith & wesson Strapped on his vest and that's his protection At the intersection waitin' on the robber Cuz in the city of Angels it's all about survival, Motherf**k the 5-0, They wanna see you DOA, welcome to L.A. Where the ghetto birds flyin over my auntie's and my cuzin's house Tell me what they buzzin bout The little homie got smoked on the corner And now his momma cryin', dead in califronia [Chorus] Motherf**kers ain't gone learn, Till the chronic blunt don't burn And you can't see nuthin' but the ghetto bird light shinin Through the f**kin' palm trees, California ain't a state it's a army (2x) [Verse 2] Jumped in my impala took a trip to the swap meat, The scoop bought EGO trippin and some white T's Cus some niggas in my old hood don't like me Time to put the niggas on check, like my Nike's Shoulda heard my my nigga Mack 10 on the chirp All I need is me and my bitch, If you scared go to church, Cuz in Califorinia niggas crack heads for the turf And life ain't nuthin but Teck-9's and dirt Dippin through the the jungles, my escalade hit a dip Here come the gorillas in the mist And they dressed like Ice Cube was in 96 Stone cold jherri curl and not one drip I sleep with the worms before I swim with the fish And I ride with my niggas before I roll witta bitch If it don't make dollars it don't make sense And I almost got shot because I hit a fence [Chorus] Motherf**kers ain't gone learn, Till the chronic blunt don't burn And you can't see nuthin but the ghetto bird light shinin Through the f**kin palm trees, California ain't a state it's a army (2x) [Verse 3] Call the U.S. government and tell em it's a mutherf**kin code red, Niggas tried to straight up jack me and now they both dead Third little nigga got away on his mo-ped Caught him 'round the corner put the beam on his forehead Jumped in the impala then smashed through the light Without a one time in sight, So I bust a right on Century headed to the L.A.X. Where there ain't nuthin but fly bitches and checks In and out of lanes and I almost wrecked Off Brand a nigga in the 600 throwin up his set He must don't know I got the 40 on deck And the teck tryin be Sh? time to flex It's the third this shit happened to me all day Guess it's time to add another dead body to the throw away So I turned down my Spice 1 tape and hit the switch Emptied the whole clip in his f**kin face [Chorus] Motherf**kers ain't gone learn, Till the chronic blunt don't burn And you can't see nuthin but the ghetto bird light shinin Through the f**kin palm trees, California ain't a state it's a army (2x) California ain't a state it's a army! |
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