LA Times lyrics

by

T-Pain


[Verse 1: Game]
When them n*ggas start shooting, that's when the shots get to pourin'
You only got one shot to hit the floor and just take this one shot as a warning
Cause tomorrow could be a wake like good morning
Back on the block like I never left, it's Friday
Hi Ms. Parker, I've been cooking, I'm a forever chef
And the recipe is legendary
I put n*ggas careers to end early like February
Then I come back marching
Hit you with April showers, them shots
Kill n*ggas like abortions
Cause nobody care about a n*gga that ain't there
They'll miss you til they kiss you, then you goin' in the ground
When Maggots eating your tissue
Similar to the way the sh*t do
These are Los Angeles Times, n*gga get your issue

[Hook:]
See the things you do
Set my heart of love
And I want you to know
It reminds me, yeah yeah ooh hoo
Of L.A Times

[Verse 2: Game]
f*ck Ya'll
Pull up on Em 20 Inch wherever’s get my block
Get To Watching cause every time I hit My Block
They Think I’m Flossing
Caravan make My Block Look Like an auction
Cause My Block Is My Blocks, misfortune
5 hundred On The Scale You can weigh it
It ain’t Hard Enough Throw On Stove
And sautee it
Mix it in, Stir it Up, break It Down, rock It Up
Look at This sh*t
Its architecture how i chop it up
A lot fiends on my block but it’s not enough
Champagne pouring when criiss style Bottles bust
For the millionaires and billionaires, money to the celing here
Patron got you gone throw a pill in there
I been through a lot of sh*t and I’m still here
Even f*ck Magic Johnson b*tch and I'm still here
sh*t I’m legend no Will here
But if you kill my dog, I put You in the wheel chair
[Extended Hook:]
See the things you do
Set my heart of love
And I want you to know
It reminds me, yeah yeah ooh hoo
Of L.A Times
Since ya'll haters
Always hatin'
You go on hatin' on me
You know them haters
Always hatin'
Why ya'll hatin' on me?

[Verse 3: Game]
n*ggas know I sell my rocks every morning
7 o'clock me and my rocks was out the door then
Growin' up in my projects was a project
But me need my project b*tch got them pies flip
No patience, so I had to ride sick
Ride dirty on the T.I. Tip
Three wheel motion always make the ride tip
It's all eyes on me and my b*tch
Even the L.A cops was on my sh*t
Thank God that my rocks was on my b*tch
Now it's time to flip the page on you n*ggas
I blew up like a grenade on you n*ggas (classifieds)
I went got paid on you n*ggas (sports)
I'm Ballin, MJ on you n*ggas
I'mma start droppin' sh*t every day on you n*ggas (Los Angeles Times)
Front page on you n*ggas
[Hook]
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