In the City of Angels

Ain't no motherfucking joke

Watch your back ese

That's right

I'll take your feria and your fucking puta

(Gimme that bitch)

That's the way it's going down



Simon, simon ese, yo soy Conejo de la calle veinte cinco

El valla mas chingones, este I aqui (West Coast locos)

In the wicked part of Los (West Coast)

And if you don't believe me, just ask the enemigos

Que calle? en el parque ese, looking for some shit

Tryin to kill the homeboys from the Tiny Locos Clique

Spraying on the snitches, cuz that's the way it goes

They rattle up tecote, on everyone they know

And now it's time to ride, and now it's time to die

Nine automatics sitting on my side

So let me just grab a couple extra clips

Blast this vato, then scratch him off my list

When others take revenge, while they make them movida

Shot calling in las calles, they breaking up posida

How you expect to fly when your wings got clipped

How you expect to kill when you hold no steel

Vatos know the real, all the blood gets spilled

Bitches for the thrill, enemigas get the chills

Talking about a place where there is no angle

Choose your poison where there is no angel



In the City of Angels there ain't no angels

Puro vato loco, crazy gang-bangers

In the City of Angels there ain't no angels

Puro vato loco



Damn, another bang bang, killed your homeboy

Now isn't it a shame, that's what my petho said

And one of his jams, all bitches rattle but you didn't understand

So I'm break it down, ese I'ma put it down

Conejo rolled up, now it's looking like a ghost town







Where you at? I thought you had control

Fucking with the hache, loco now you gotsta go misu