Polyester the Saint - Lakers lyrics

[Produced by Madlib] [Intro - Sample] Hello, This is headquarters [Verse 1: Freddie Gibbs] n***a, f** it, 77 Cutla** I move my a** to Cali with my Indiana bucket I need to slap a wet one on the frame, a little rusty They call my sh** a scraper in the bay b**hes love it And I'm choking on some Cali good Been want to cruise on Crenshaw Since a little n***a watching Boyz n in the Hood Since Ricky got k**ed, copping that corn meal Before the palm trees, p**y and the recording years I was overdue for a visit A valley b**h with family in the Chi gave me the digits The 818, the s** was great, perfect the art of fornication Put a b**h out the car for a bar, your Cali conversation All my hoes from way back want me to be chilling where they at G.I. until I die, but b**h L.A. is where I lay at My children gon' be raised at where they gon' place my grave at Since Magic bought the team, he brought new meaning to that L.A. hat Shout out to the blocks Inglewood, Compton, South Central to Watts [Hook: Polyester The Saint] My home, my home L.A. I ride for you (That's where I stay at, n***a) (That's where I lay at, n***a) When I am gone, just know that I owe you [Verse 2: Ab-Soul] I'm on my way to LAX from JFK, it's a great day I mean I love New York, but of course I live out there so don't go there, you heard it before Ironic my uncle had the king of music on Crenshaw Cause now I'm the king to music to all y'all California love, California dreaming I've seen lost angels, I even found demons Where you learn to survive and keep your head high Hit the weed clinic for sativa get your head high We ain't in Kansas City, but you'll find a TEC-9 And if that tech jammed you better have a toast too f** that, this what we gon' toast to Everybody that ain't die before 21 like we was s'posed to For the mail, I'm going postal I heard the baddest females on pacific coastal If it means anything, I'm so L.A. my dad died on King, n***a [Hook] [Verse 3: Freddie Gibbs] Yeah, went from a condo to sleeping on my n***a couch Popping sedatives, negatives in my bank account Too much pride to let this p**y industry play me out Repairing that broken dream, that's what L.A. about Shout to Cali Bud, my Westcoast plug Brother from another mother, he showed that Westcoast love n***a, me and k**a Caz was pulling them stick-ups, cuz Bending blocks with my n***a Box smoking the whip up Blood Gots to keep it true when I maneuver I got all kind of homies, Harlems, Avalons and Hoovers My little homie from Families, he keep a team of shooters My 60 n***as stay Rolling, my Eight Trey n***as moving Been 20 years since the riots L.A. n***as keep it thorough, f** keeping quiet b**h it's on in this war zone where we reside As I begin let my sins wash away with the tide Who the f** I'm kidding? I done tried everything but dying Flirting with other places, but this Cali b**h stay on my mind [Hook] [2Pac: Skit] This is not a new allegiance to the West Coast. I've been on the West Coast all this time