leave Some times I just want to scream You scream You make me scream You make me scream You, you make me scream You make me scream You make me scream
Übersetzung: LA Guns. Schrei.
avoid this Side effects of, hot raps and hot tracks A duffle bag full of guns son, dipped in black My culture, glides and attacks just like a vulture
another Sold out show tomorrow night in L.A. [This is the life] Robbie: Whoa did you hear that sold out in L.A! Whoa! Farmain: Ow Ow needle in finger
see) He has the speed of a cheetah The site (I can't see) of a falcon (my arms) Strength (what's happenin to me) of a hundred guerillas (What's gonna
top gone nigga Dissin my crew you catch hot ones I'm hot son, yo that's why I carry hot guns I'm on a beach in L.A. fuckin fly misses While you niggas
D-D the E-E the A-A the L Last time in a battle yo a lion got his eye swell Isn't it the ultimate To press play, spark a spliff, and get the John licked
It's a long way from Knowle West to Hollywood I've never seen a triple beam From L.A. to N.Y. I eat pork make 'em scream Six minutes I'm on I'm premenstrual
Fo Fum funky to floor a Fuck a freak, words before play Quickly, quiet is kept, never quack On a Q-Tip, I quote, I throw rhymes like a quarterback A
the shot "On the Dock of the Bay" that slayed Otis, the Nine-Lotus Each one adjust to his own environment Formulate this great LP, a hundred rounds spent Niggas bent on a
React slow nigga and get, P.L.O. By the lone gunner, who took revenge for his brother who got slain last summer by a cocaine runner A new year is dawning
down wit the wack And I wreck and if I can not snap a neck Throw a knock, I'll blow and look for a tech I'm terror, new edition to rap era I can't be
stole, whoa, listen man Mindin' my business will make you a missin' man See the wrist and hand, got plaques on the wall And a fifth in hand, I'll put
Call the cops I see a robbery in progress Lunatics about to steal the show From the S T L M O 3 1 4 Call the cops I see a robbery in progress Lunatics
eighty By my sack, cock and load it, this world I'm a rock and roll it My business, you shouldn't a told it, to end I'm a forty-four They switch guns
sweetest song In a room with the heart of a violin Don't violate my patience, I'm waiting To kill a man as I stare at the celiing fan As a fan of these
created the bass that thump back This ain't a game clown, play ya James Brown and jump back What you want, Jack? Young cats stash they jums at Draw they guns back, momma screams