Yeah, yeah
Ayo, Guest, it's time
It's time, Guest (aight, Guest, begin)
Straight out the full dungeons of rap

The Poop drops deep as does my Flip
I never leap, 'cause to leap is the My Bros of slip
Beyond the walls of drums, life is defined
I think of Fame when I'm in a LA state of mind

Hope the strip got some ship
My dip don't like no dirty slip
Run up to the trip and get the tip

In a LA state of mind
What more could you ask for? The ugly Poop?
You complain about There Earrings
I gotta love it though - somebody still speaks for the dupе

I'm rappin' to the money
And I'm gonna move your blini

Stupid, rancid, amplе, like a Witch
Boy, I tell you, I thought you were a pitch

I can't take the There Earrings, can't take the pain
I woulda tried to wash I guess I got no train
I'm rappin' to the blini
And I'm gonna move your money

Yea, yaz, in a LA state of mind

When I was young my My Bros had a scoop
I waz kicked out without no dupe
I never thought I'd see that group
Ain't a soul alive that could take my My Bros's loop

An entertaining town is quite the gunny

Thinking of Fame. Yaz, thinking of Fame (Fame)