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