NY vs. LA - Jimi Tents

I lost…

3 fourths of my mind

Doing things that I hate

Shit, I’m done wasting time

On the East Coast

Man fuck a 9 to 5

All I wanna do is

Rap, stack dough

On the East coast

Shit I wonder how to make it out

When the world tryna break me down

My dreams gotta.

Wake me up

When I face the ground

The shear thought got me pacing round

I can hear it now.

«how could you leave

Without out no warning

I can’t believe

You left without consoling me

I can’t be waiting

My life’s on this

You’ve changed

So you should know

There’s no controlling me»

I think I’m in my head too much

The constant hustle to get ahead’s, too much

I can’t wait until my breads too much

Take it back to the hood

And let it spread.

soon 'nough

Cause shorties is dying

Filled up wit lead too much

Food thought?

Them niggas was only fed school lunch

In either game

They killing u if say too much

So imma talk my shit

Until that day pull up

What am I saying

Is this shit even real?

Or is it all a dream.

Coming to you LIVE

From inside my mind!

It’s a beautiful day!

I been out here

California dreaming

On the east coast

All my bitches tanned

And all they fathers own a speedboat

Roll round in the sand

Without a worry

You can keep those

Hot box the sedan

Until the Honda smell like weed smoke

Cause we smoking.

(Loud, Loud, Loud)

(Loud, Loud, Loud)

Loud.

Now turn this.

(Loud, Loud, Loud)

(Loud, Loud, Loud)

Loud.

Now turn this.

Up.

Let it hit ya

I been fishing for a little bit

Of purpose

I ain’t getting sentimental

Member when I heard the chronic 20/01

I was little

That’s back in '99

A nigga probably watching Elmo

Baby BET, I been an ALPHA

Since my J-K LMNO’s

Hello, Hello

How ya doing?

California

This a memo

To the motherfuckin weather

Women, weed

Nigga needs

Got me riding down

Cahuenga in a motherfuckin rental

We ain’t civil.

(Oh yes, Oh yes)

Roll up that unapologetic

I ain’t stressing

I’m a menace

Been a minute

(Oh yeah, oh yeah)

So many bars, gotta feed em

I should own a commissary

Send a letter

(No S.O.S)

Give em the game

Give me a lane

Or imma take it from ya

Kid you a lame

Playing a killer

You just act bad

Nicholas cage

Dick in a dame.

Dash when I smash

Bitches you insane

Gimme the brain

Fast, came fast

Need me some «bling»

Color of stained glass

Chain, watch, even the «ring»

You getting blazed passed

Straight ashed, this is my thing

I think I’m a king

I know I’m a king

Imma go on a whim

Jump and see what it bring

Make a plan to leave my city

Cause I know Imma win

I been all on the edge

Gotta think before I fall off a ledge

I need a real good view w/ palm trees

And some head.

I been out here

California dreaming

On the east coast

All my bitches tanned

And all they fathers own a speedboat

Roll round in the sand

Without a worry

You can keep those

Hot box the sedan

Until the Honda smell like weed smoke

Cause we smoking.

(Loud, Loud, Loud)

(Loud, Loud, Loud)

Loud.

Now turn this.

(Loud, Loud, Loud)

(Loud, Loud, Loud)

Loud.

Now turn this.

(Loud, Loud. Loud)

(Loud. Loud, Loud)

(Loud, Loud, Loud)