Chris Galland - No More Parties in LA lyrics

[Produced by Madlib and Kanye West] [Intro: Johnny "Guitar" Watson + Junie Morrison] La di da da-a, da-a (I like this flavor) La da da da di da da-a, la-a Let me tell you, I'm out here From a very far away place All for a chance to be a star Nowhere seems to be too far [Hook: Kanye West + Junie Morrison] No more parties in L.A Please, baby, no more parties in L.A., uh No more parties in L.A Please, baby, no more parties in L.A., uh No more Los Angeles Please (shake that body, party that bod-) Please (shake that body, party that body) Please (shake that body, party that body) [Verse 1: Kendrick Lamar & Kanye West] Hey baby you forgot your Ray Bans And my sheets still orange from your spray tan It was more than soft p**n for the K-man She remember my Sprinter, said "I was in the grape van" Uhm, well cutie, I like your bougie booty Come Erykah Badu me, well, let's make a movie Hell, you know my repertoire is like a wrestler I show you the ropes, connect the dots A country girl that love Hollywood Mama used to cook red beans and rice Now it's Denny's, 4 in the morning, spoil your appetite Liquor pouring and n***as swarming your section with erection Smoke in every direction, middle finger pedestrians R&B singers and lesbians, rappers and managers Music and iPhone cameras This sh** unanimous for you, it's damaging for you, I think That p**y should only be holding exclusive rights to me, I mean He flew you in this motherf**er on first cla** Even went out his way so you could check in an extra bag Now you wanna divide the yam like it equate the math? That sh** don't add up, you're making him mad as f** She said she came out here to find an A-list rapper I said baby, spin that 'round and say the alphabet backwards You're dealing with malpractice, don't k** a good n***a's confidence Just 'cause he a nerd and you don't know what a condom is The head still good though, the head still good though Make me say "Nam Myoho Renge Kyo" Make a n***a say big words and act lyrical Make me get spiritual Make me believe in miracles, Buddhist monks and Cap'n Crunch cereal Lord have mercy, thou will not hurt me Five buddies all herded up on a Thursday Bottle service, head service, I came in first place The opportunity, the proper top of breast and booty cheek The pop community, I mean these b**hes come with union fee And I want two of these, moving units through consumer streets Then my shoe released, she was kicking in gratuity And yeah G, I was all for it She said, "K Lamar, you kind of dumb to be a poet" I'ma put you on game, for the lames that don't know, they're a rookie Instagram is the best way to promote some p**y [Hook: Kanye West] Scary Scary No more parties in L.A Please, baby, no more parties in L.A [Verse 2: Kanye West] Friday night tryna make it into the city Breakneck speeds, pa**enger seat somethin' pretty Thinking back to how I got here in the first place Second cla** b**hes wouldn't let me on first base A backpack n***a with luxury taste buds And the Louis Vuitton store, got all of my pay stubs Got p**y from beats I did for n***as more famous When did I become A list? I wasn't even on a list Strippers get invited to where they only got hired When I get on my Steve Jobs, somebody gon' get fired I was uninspired since Lauryn Hill retired And 3 Stacks, man, you preach it to the choir Any rumor you ever heard about me was true and legendary I done got Lewinsky and paid secretaries For all my n***as with babies by b**hes That use they kids as meal tickets Not knowin' the disconnect from the father The next generation will be the real victims I can't fault 'em, really I remember Amber told my boy no matter what happens she ain't goin' back to Philly Back to our regularly scheduled programmin' Of weak content and slow jammin' But don't worry, this one's so jammin' You know it, L.A., it's so jammin' I be thinkin' every day Mulholland Drive, need to put up some goddamn barricades I be paranoid every time The pressure, the problem ain't I be drivin' The problem is I be textin' My psychiatrist got kids that I inspired First song they played for me was 'bout their friend that just died Textin' and drivin' down Mulholland Drive That's why I'd rather take the 405 I be worried 'bout my daughter, I be worried 'bout Kim But Saint is baby 'Ye, I ain't worried 'bout him Had my life threatened by best friends with selfish intents What I'm supposed to do? Ride around with a bulletproof car and some tints? Every agent I know, know I hate agents I'm too black, I'm too vocal, I'm too flagrant Something smellin' like sh**, that's the new fragrance It's just me, I do it my way, b**h Some days I'm in my Yeezys, some days I'm in my Vans If I knew y'all made plans I wouldn't have popped the Xans I know some fans thought I wouldn't rap like this again But the writer's block is over, emcees cancel your plans A 38-year-old 8-year-old with rich n***a problems Tell my wife that I hate the Rolls so I don't never drive it It took 6 months to get the Maybach all matted out And my a**istant crashed it soon as they backed it out God damn, got a bald fade, I might slam Pink fur, got Nori dressin' like Cam Thank God for me Whole family gettin' money, thank God for E! I love rockin' j**elry, a whole neck full b**hes say he funny and disrespectful I feel like Pablo when I'm workin' on my shoes I feel like Pablo when I see me on the news I feel like Pablo when I'm workin' on my house Tell 'em party's in here, we don't need to go out We need the turbo thots, high speed, turbo thots Drop-dro-dro-dro-drop it like Robocop She brace herself and hold my stomach, good dick'll do that She keep pushin' me back, good dick'll do that She push me back when the dick go too deep This good dick'll put your a** to sleep Get money, money, money, money Big, big money, money, money, money And as far as real friends, tell all my cousins I love 'em Even the one that stole the laptop, you dirty motherf**er [Bridge: Larry Graham] I just keep on lovin' you, baby And there's no one else I know who can take your place [Hook: Kanye West] Please, no more parties in L.A Please, baby, no more parties in L.A., uh No more parties in L.A Please, baby, no more parties in L.A., uh No more parties in L.A Please, baby, no more parties in L.A., uh No more (Los Angeles) [Outro: Junie Morrison] Let me tell you, I'm out here from a very far away place All for a chance to be a star Nowhere seems to be too far SWISH