"LAX Files" lyrics

[The Game:]
Put your lighters up if you want to
Pull your motherfuckin' Dodger cap
Over your motherfuckin' eyes, 'til you can't see shit
I want you to go blind nigga
So you can feel how I felt, when I was in that motherfucking coma

[Shorty:]
Raised in the City of Angels
Where safe and danger switch lanes so stranger drive slow (drive slow)
Where bangers and gangsters fast women and dank
Are just part of a face that we show
We got mountains and ocean, we move in slow motion
Off that sticky you all love to blow
I swear, ain't nothing better there
That's why we all take our hats off to you, for one more

[The Game:]
Come to my hood hood, look at my block block
That's that project building, yeah that's where I got shot, shot
'Cause I was more hood than Suge, had more rocks than Jay
More scars on my face than the original Scarface, or the homeboy Scarface
Al Pacino couldn't be no gangster, DeNiro in "Casino" he no gangster
Wanna be, wanna see, wan' get a shovel
Dig Tookie up nigga, 'cause he know gangsters
Niggas think 'cause they watched "Menace" a couple times
Seen Cube in "Boyz N the Hood" and pressed "Rewind"
That you could survive when a real Crip
Run up on your car and flex the nine
You must be out of your mind
A real Blood'll put you out of your mind
Just stay the fuck up outta my hood
Where my niggas take you up outta your shine
It ain't a movie dawg, hell yeah this a real fucking Uzi dawg
I'm 'bout to hop inside my Impala, try to keep up, don't lose me y'all

[Shorty:]
Raised in the City of Angels
Where safe and danger switch lanes so stranger drive slow (drive slow)
Where bangers and gangsters fast women and dank
Are just part of a face that we show
We got mountains and ocean, we move in slow motion
Off that sticky you all love to blow
I swear, ain't nothing better there
That's why we all take our hats off to you, for one more

[The Game:]
I know the real O-Dog, and that nigga know the real Game
I call him Lorenz Tate, and he ain't never been in no gang
But he been in my house house, and he sat on my couch couch
While I put one in the air so yeah that nigga know what I'm 'bout, 'bout
I'm 'bout my hood, I'm 'bout my block, I'm 'bout my chips
So if the rap money stop and I punch a clock
Catch you slipping at a light get out your shit!
You jack niggas, out-of-towners, and rap niggas
And ball players 'cause we ball player, we chop it up, with them trap niggas
We outcasts, we big boys, Ludacris with them big toys
Where I'm from it's only two things
Standing on the corner, me and that liquor store
Look what the Bloods did to Weezy, look what the Crips did to Jeezy
This gang-banging shit ain't nothing to play with
Me and Snoop Dogg just made it look easy

[Shorty:]
Raised in the City of Angels
Where safe and danger switch lanes so stranger drive slow (drive slow)
Where bangers and gangsters fast women and dank
Are just part of a face that we show
We got mountains and ocean, we move in slow motion
Off that sticky you all love to blow
I swear, ain't nothing better there
That's why we all take our hats off to you, for one more

[The Game:]
Y'all niggas got this L.A. shit real fucked up man
Niggas better start respecting what the fuck we about man
We take niggas the fuck out, this shit ain't no movie dawg
This shit is real. Crips, Bloods, Eses
We hold shit down, this L.A.
That's why I wrote the shit on my face, put a mo'fuckin' star behind it
What the fuck I am, Star-face
L.A. Chronicles, L.A.X. Files
Case closed