Текст песни State Of Emergency

California ain't a state it's a army!

[Verse 1]

One f**kin nigga in the projects killin'

The same motherf**ker that would burn down the villains

Where the niggas blunt full of that

You know, who gone take you back to Compton In that 64 two door

Sub woofers in the trunk kickin' that lethal injection

A hood nigga lost with no direction

So he bought a black smith & wesson

Strapped on his vest and that's his protection

At the intersection waitin' on the robber

Cuz in the city of Angels it's all about survival,

Motherf**k the 5-0, They wanna see you DOA, welcome to L.A.

Where the ghetto birds flyin over my auntie's and my cuzin's house

Tell me what they buzzin bout

The little homie got smoked on the corner

And now his momma cryin', dead in califronia

[Chorus]

Motherf**kers ain't gone learn,

Till the chronic blunt don't burn

And you can't see nuthin' but the ghetto bird light shinin

Through the f**kin' palm trees,

California ain't a state it's a army

(2x)

[Verse 2]

Jumped in my impala took a trip to the swap meat,

The scoop bought EGO trippin and some white T's

Cus some niggas in my old hood don't like me

Time to put the niggas on check, like my Nike's

Shoulda heard my my nigga Mack 10 on the chirp

All I need is me and my bitch,

If you scared go to church,

Cuz in Califorinia niggas crack heads for the turf

And life ain't nuthin but Teck-9's and dirt

Dippin through the the jungles, my escalade hit a dip

Here come the gorillas in the mist

And they dressed like Ice Cube was in 96
The Game - State Of Emergency - http://ru.motolyrics.com/the-game/state-of-emergency-lyrics.html
Stone cold jherri curl and not one drip

I sleep with the worms before I swim with the fish

And I ride with my niggas before I roll witta bitch

If it don't make dollars it don't make sense

And I almost got shot because I hit a fence

[Chorus]

Motherf**kers ain't gone learn,

Till the chronic blunt don't burn

And you can't see nuthin but the ghetto bird light shinin

Through the f**kin palm trees,

California ain't a state it's a army

(2x)

[Verse 3]

Call the U.S. government and tell em it's a mutherf**kin code red,

Niggas tried to straight up jack me and now they both dead

Third little nigga got away on his mo-ped

Caught him 'round the corner put the beam on his forehead

Jumped in the impala then smashed through the light

Without a one time in sight,

So I bust a right on Century headed to the L.A.X.

Where there ain't nuthin but fly bitches and checks

In and out of lanes and I almost wrecked

Off Brand a nigga in the 600 throwin up his set

He must don't know I got the 40 on deck

And the teck tryin be Sh? time to flex

It's the third this shit happened to me all day

Guess it's time to add another dead body to the throw away

So I turned down my Spice 1 tape and hit the switch

Emptied the whole clip in his f**kin face

[Chorus]

Motherf**kers ain't gone learn,

Till the chronic blunt don't burn

And you can't see nuthin but the ghetto bird light shinin

Through the f**kin palm trees,

California ain't a state it's a army

(2x)

California ain't a state it's a army!