Lyrics:
to everybody from RBL
Richmond, California to the motherfuckin' Hills
To L.A. to San Diego to Frisco
Fresno, Watts to Oakland, Inglewood
Oakdale, Sacramento,
lonely even though
I stay with homies
But, damn, I can't wait to get out California
Floating by my lonely with some
Money just to hold me
I don't trust
And all that I ain't got I still need to lean to
Somebody I can sing to
Please come to L.A. to live forever
California life alone is just too hard
ease the guns in
Rumble with patrolmen, tear gas laced the function
Heads by the score take flight, incite a war
Chicks hit the floor, diehard fans
nines in the bedroom, Glocks in the kitchen
A shotty by the shower if you wanna shoot me while I'm shittin'
Uhh, the lesson from the Smith and Wesson is
a pimp,
She couldn't make it on her own!
She had to get a pimp,
She couldn't make it on her own!
California air!
Chain all blue like it's runnin' out
You think Oakland California is a city of punks
It only takes a second, to pop the trunk
And just like that you know it's real
You're in the right
Welcome to a place
Where everything's a little bit strange
Talking to a man
Strung out on the streets of LA
I got to know the devil by his name
When
[Chorus]
Michael Jackson brought you Thriller
It made all the gun-man hollar
Mack 11 guard your grilla
Why you gwan, watch out for Babylon,
fucked with me
California eyes are a death witch from design
You really fucked with me
La, la la la la
La la la la la, la la
La, la la la la
La la
Out to the west there's a trail that leads somewhere
And a call of the wild that takes some people there
Through Monument Valley to California sun
People hit me up but I'm forgettin' to call (haha!)
Get away to California where the weather getting colder
My honey's by the pool with umbrellas
La la, la la la la la la
la la la la la la la, la la la.
Stand and fight we do consider
Reminded of an inner pact between us
That's seen as we
Cut the music up please man
I'm so fucked up, you have no idea
I smoke that La La La, it's music to my ears
All my niggas is wasted
Got guns on they
parley
I parley here in LA
All the way to (NY NY)
Touched the Iceberg baby
I'll send you under like the Titanic
Gun fight romantic
Gigantic on the pages
[Mack 10]
Microphone check i.o. from the west coast beller and tella
I cuss like a sella when you see her she's a gonna
Moved to California blew
There's guns across the river about to pound you
There's a lawman on your trail like to surround you
Bounty hunters are dancing all around you
Joni is running away
She was hoping to forget LA
She had boarded a plane
But when he found her
He went insane
He said come with me
We'll hide out
Down by the mission
San Miguel is a great house
Wherein dwell Don Carlos
And La Dona Maria Elena Cantrell
I work at the ranch, I saddle her mare
I
here!
That cemetery gear (california, california)
I got my gun and nine from hollywood, to your neck of the hood
True, true, yo hollywood got a lot
a gun
That fool was the terror of Highway 101
Well, he never washed his face and he never combed his hair
He had axle grease imbedded underneath his
Soft sounds
Faded jeans rest your head come lay down
Like the first time in LA by downtown
My heart was on borrowed time
Cause I knew you'd be mine
up one day, Lord to find that I was by myself
With dreams of Georgia cotton and California wine
Sunday mornin' found me standin' 'neath
ached inside to wander
So hopped a freight in Waycross and I rode it to LA
I met a girl known on the Strip as San Francisco's Mabel Joy
Destitution's
.jpg/300px-GNR_London_Stadium_2017_3_(cropped).jpg "Guns N' Roses")
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