King T
Some L.A. Niggaz
[Intro: MC Ren]
Yeah n***a, MC Ren up in this motherf**ker
(West West y'all)
Yeah, L.A. n***as
L.A. n***as rule the world n***a
Y'all n***as gotta recognize, yaknahmsayin?
N***as don't wanna peep game, yaknahmsayin?
But this sh*t come all the way back around here
My n***a Dre, droppin' heat box on y'all b*t*h-a**
Yaknahmsayin? You gotta recognize
L.A. n***as, connected all over the motherf**king world, n***a
Recognize this; peep game

[Verse 1: Time Bomb]
Now in my younger days I used to sport a rag
Backpack full of cans plus a four-four mag
G'd up from the feet up
Blue'd up from the shoe up's how I grew up
Loc'n, smokin' and drinkin' til we threw up (until we threw up)
At Leimert Park, taggin', hittin' fools up
Ditching my cla**, just to f**k yo' school up
You don't wanna blast, n***a tuck yo' tool up
But don't sleep, young n***as quick to shoot you
Now there's another motherf**ker with no future
But Time Bomb much smoother when I maneuver, dope like Cuba
Got 'em jumpin Disciples to the Hoover

[Verse 2: King T]
I'm coming "Straight Outta Compton" with a loose cannon
Smoke big green, call it Bruce Banner
Watch your manners, at last another blast from the top notch
From way back with the pop rocks, I pop lock witcha
Picture this, Dr. Dre twisting wit Tha Liks
And Hittman bought a fix
Don't trip, it's a Time Bomb in this b*t*h
Here it tick tick tick tick *boom*
Wait a minute it's on, I tell it like a true mackadelic
Weed and cocaine sold separate, check it
From sundown to sunup, clown and run up
The Aftermath'll be two in your gut, n***a what?
[Hook: Knoc-Turn'al & Kokane]
We roll deep, smoke on weed drink and pack heat
Requirements for survival each day in L.A.!
It don't stop, we still mash in hot pursuit from the cops
A***yze why we act this way in L.A.!

[Verse 3: Hittman]
Gimme that mic fool, it's a West coast jack move
They call me Hitt 'cause I spit like gats do
C*ck me back
Bust caps for my Macz Crew, at Fairfax
Who used to wear Air Max shoes, that's true
But I grew up where n***as jack you, hara** you
Blast you, for that set you claim (where you from?)
Mash on you for your Turkish chain, C.K. B.K
Blue'd up or flame, I ran wit a gang
I helped n***as get jacked for they Dana Dane's
My pants hang below my waistline
I look humble wanna rumble? (yeah yeah)
I bang though, like Vince Carter from the baseline
Don't waste my time
F**k a scrap in killa Cali, AK's and 9's
One-time's, sun-shines, and fine-a** b*t*hes
Hawaiian Thai, drive-bys, six-fo's on switches

[Verse 4: Xzibit]
I was raised in the hood called WHAT-THE-DIF'
Where the brothers in the hood, refused to go Hollywood
Slugs for the f**k of it
Anybody hatin' on us can suck a d**k
If I catch you touching mine you catch a flat-line, dead on the floor
Better than yours, driving away gettin' head from a w****
It's AvireX-to-the-Z
F**kin' with me might get you banned from TV
Ca**ette and CD it's all mine the whole nine the right time
Multiply, we don't die, the streets don't lie
What, so neither do I, I'm bad for your health
Like puttin' a pistol up to your face and blastin' yourself
[Verse 5: Defari]
Five in the mornin', burglars at my do'
Glock forty-five in my dresser drawer
Let 'em come in BOW, he see the thunder roll
Roll with n***as, who buy fifths by the fo'
And brews by the case
Slap you in the face with the ba**, Dr. Dre laced
Likwit Kings with Sedans and gold rings
Haters scope the style, but can't find no openings

[Hook: Knoc-Turn'al, Kokane]
We roll deep, smoke on weed drink and pack heat
Requirements for survival each day -- in L.A.!
It don't stop, we still mash in hot pursuit from the cops
A***yze why we act this way -- in L.A.!

[Outro]
In L.A
That's how we ride
That's how we ride
That's how we ride
That's how we ride