"The Land" lyrics
Blu & Evidence Lyrics
(The land) Where the police put the OGs in the can
(The land) Where you spend a hundred grand like the grand
(The land) Where your man can catch a cap in his teeth
If he ever try to come at me with beef, uh
Uh, L.A. is the land, pistol in my hand, I can kill a man
For a quick million or a little less than a gram
Flip it, now we back in bid'ness, livin' grand
In this great, when the hate never equates
Ayo, L.A. is the land, where they kill a man
If the color of his bill is the opposite of the color that the village flags
Livin' here isn't bad, but shit can get bad fast
If you out there pitchin', get you someone to back catch
Like if you get locked up, the block can still, get the bag
And while you in there, you still gettin' the bag, in the land
Niggas sag 'cause the heat so heavy, theri pants drag
And blast on any nigga out-flashin', sans cash
Fuck the damn flag, we flag rags
Killin' the other in the opposite color
I seen a simple war in front of my Dad's pad
MJ, LL, '87, it was that bad
Crack had hit the city like bombs over Baghdad
Cash got stashed in Glad bags
Was about to buy a house outta town
But then the clowns and their backs smash down your front door
Everyone down on the floor
They're lookin' for the –nia that they made Califor–
(The land) Where the police put the OGs in the can
(The land) Where you spend a hundred grand like the grand
(The land) Where your man can catch a cap in his teeth
If he ever try to come at me with beef, uh
Shit, when I did the "Kill a Man" beat, I knew it was a banger, you know?
We took the lyrics from another song called "Trigger Happy"
And we put 'em on this beat
And once we laid the lyrics down, we actually cut the
We did the first verse in half and stopped it where it said
"Here's something you can't understand, how I can kill a man"
Then we made that the hook
And then once we relaid the hook, that song was banging
I mean, I played that shit fuckin' fifty times a day every fuckin' day, homie
Uh, L.A. is the land, pistol in my hand, I can kill a man
For a quick million or a little less than a gram
Flip it, now we back in bid'ness, livin' grand
In this great, when the hate never equates
Uh, 'cause L.A. is a city of drug dealers and killers
And there's more actors and rappers, still there's nowhere realer
In the city of dreams
Things ain't what they seem 'cause they're five-times triller
You ask why you come outside, then the drive-by hits ya
It's similar to the pyramid in Giza
But more Ice Cube, Ice T, King Tee
Snoop Dogg, Too Short and Tupac, the RZA or a GZA
Still the cash rules everything seen in the picture
When you picture how it is in the valleys, in Killa Cali
You picture blue sky, empty light, the L.A. river
You picture the richer livin' twenty minutes from Skid Row
Picture Crips and the Bloods killin' each other but the pigs still kill more
Picture .45-caliber pistols
You picture niggas takin' pictures with AKs and grenades
Bandanas, banana clips like "Hey, we comin' to get you!"
Where you picture the election, you picture South Central, it's the
(The land) Where the police put the OGs in the can
(The land) Where you spend a hundred grand like the grand
(The land) Where your man can catch a cap in his teeth
If he ever try to come at me with beef, uh
Uh, L.A. is the land, pistol in my hand, I can kill a man
For a quick million or a little less than a gram
Flip it, now we back in bid'ness, livin' grand
In this great, when the hate never equates, L.A.
(The land) Where you spend a hundred grand like the grand
(The land) Where your man can catch a cap in his teeth
If he ever try to come at me with beef, uh
Uh, L.A. is the land, pistol in my hand, I can kill a man
For a quick million or a little less than a gram
Flip it, now we back in bid'ness, livin' grand
In this great, when the hate never equates
Ayo, L.A. is the land, where they kill a man
If the color of his bill is the opposite of the color that the village flags
Livin' here isn't bad, but shit can get bad fast
If you out there pitchin', get you someone to back catch
Like if you get locked up, the block can still, get the bag
And while you in there, you still gettin' the bag, in the land
Niggas sag 'cause the heat so heavy, theri pants drag
And blast on any nigga out-flashin', sans cash
Fuck the damn flag, we flag rags
Killin' the other in the opposite color
I seen a simple war in front of my Dad's pad
MJ, LL, '87, it was that bad
Crack had hit the city like bombs over Baghdad
Cash got stashed in Glad bags
Was about to buy a house outta town
But then the clowns and their backs smash down your front door
Everyone down on the floor
They're lookin' for the –nia that they made Califor–
(The land) Where the police put the OGs in the can
(The land) Where you spend a hundred grand like the grand
(The land) Where your man can catch a cap in his teeth
If he ever try to come at me with beef, uh
Shit, when I did the "Kill a Man" beat, I knew it was a banger, you know?
We took the lyrics from another song called "Trigger Happy"
And we put 'em on this beat
And once we laid the lyrics down, we actually cut the
We did the first verse in half and stopped it where it said
"Here's something you can't understand, how I can kill a man"
Then we made that the hook
And then once we relaid the hook, that song was banging
I mean, I played that shit fuckin' fifty times a day every fuckin' day, homie
Uh, L.A. is the land, pistol in my hand, I can kill a man
For a quick million or a little less than a gram
Flip it, now we back in bid'ness, livin' grand
In this great, when the hate never equates
Uh, 'cause L.A. is a city of drug dealers and killers
And there's more actors and rappers, still there's nowhere realer
In the city of dreams
Things ain't what they seem 'cause they're five-times triller
You ask why you come outside, then the drive-by hits ya
It's similar to the pyramid in Giza
But more Ice Cube, Ice T, King Tee
Snoop Dogg, Too Short and Tupac, the RZA or a GZA
Still the cash rules everything seen in the picture
When you picture how it is in the valleys, in Killa Cali
You picture blue sky, empty light, the L.A. river
You picture the richer livin' twenty minutes from Skid Row
Picture Crips and the Bloods killin' each other but the pigs still kill more
Picture .45-caliber pistols
You picture niggas takin' pictures with AKs and grenades
Bandanas, banana clips like "Hey, we comin' to get you!"
Where you picture the election, you picture South Central, it's the
(The land) Where the police put the OGs in the can
(The land) Where you spend a hundred grand like the grand
(The land) Where your man can catch a cap in his teeth
If he ever try to come at me with beef, uh
Uh, L.A. is the land, pistol in my hand, I can kill a man
For a quick million or a little less than a gram
Flip it, now we back in bid'ness, livin' grand
In this great, when the hate never equates, L.A.
