and the pragmatist Doing push-ups in the back, and waving his fists The kids from the school, call it subterfuge Scars on his limbs is about to use Chorus: Korean
yesterday I put in a good 5 hours talking to the statues chased your memory all around the room didn't manage to catch you but I cleaned out the savings
I'm a Korean And I'd like my chinese food cooked right Cause they're not giving me the good rice And the dyke giving me my food looks like a lesbian
I'm A Korean) You might remember me from my last record, Ching Chang Chong (I'm a Korean) You made me very rich (I'm a Korean) And now I roll in American
of real American kids don't have a clue Right here on the lot We got the answer A product guaranteed to satisfy Korean parents for sale You say you're
Whatchu want? Whatchu want? Get off me I pull quick, it's useless, I'm fully clipped, 6 fo' fully dipped Throw chrome whip with three freaks and full
fist Or we'll burn your store, right down to a crisp And then we'll see ya 'Cause you can't turn the ghetto, into Black Korea Asshole, fuck you
Early hours, open road, family of five-on their way home Having enjoyed a day in the sun, their encounter with gore has just begun A homicidal fool
I taste you much better Off teeth taste Of white skin on red leather Check the claws we got Night time cavity to come in Downtown pony work your pitch
I'm from the S O U T H side of C A, why they try to P H Still hit em up with that E A, G A to N G S T A So fuck them them other N I double G A S Hate
West Coast, West Coast, West Coast West Coast, West Coast, West Coast West Coast, West Coast, West Coast West Coast, West Coast, West Coast If you with
Yeah, it's how we do This a little story about uh A nigga you know well, Knoc-Turn'al I can see you watching waitin' in my garden In my bushes plottin
Fear no man or no motherfucking clan, nigga Fear no mob, fear nothing but God Ya know, I walk through the shadows And ride through the valley of death
[Intro: Knoc-Turn' al] Ahhh! It's a good day in LA, yes it is (yes it is) Motherfuckers can just wake up and relax And smoke a fat blunt or some shit
You ready? Yes Yeah, yeah [Incomprehensible], I like singing My music, my life, my heart, my soul My music, my everything, I give my all My wife, my
Mac flossy where you at? (Aah) I wish they all could be California I wish they all could be California I wish they all could be California hoes California
Super ugly Mr X to tha Z Yeah, Warren LA indo, gangster and mack mo Bullets at your window, dangerous Ruthless, hostile, unforgiven, who gave you permission