Lost Angeles
• Written by Sophockinille
Sophockinille's Notes
Not finshed, but I'd love some feedback.
Verse One [0:25]
LA, the southside, the city of the sinners.
Every fucking morning,
I hear 'em pop the trigger
Running from the violence, I am stuck up in the middle.
Bullets never miss, now somebody else is injured.
I grew up in the city, with no brothers and no sisters.
I grew up in the west, you can say that I am wistern. [western]
No one watched my back, guess this rap shit was my savior.
I'm not a perfect product, have a fucked up, type behavior.
Now I'm on it, honest, supersonic, tell 'em I don't use narcartics.
Artist but I'm well departed,
My drug is to be the hardest.
Fuck you bitch, I barely started.
California, here to party.
[Speed Up] Knocked out, never will I wake up,
Told myself that I was finna make it for the sake of,
I'll know, ever single detail that I'm made of
Put a little makeup,
Shorty got a body, but her face fucked.
Log in to my facebook, hit my homie Jake up,
I ain't got no money, need motherfucking bank up.
Shout out to the bankers,
Shouts out to the gangsters.
Dang cus, thank us.
Never I'm a fake fuck,
Even if I make it, that will never ever change us.
Better watch your back, ain't nobody gon' save ya'
[1:17] Hook
Trust Me! I don't do this shit for nothing,
I'm looking for the money, and I'm looking for the honeys.
I'm the next rap star, making noise around the country.
Mountains, they are crumbling.
Rappers, I am munching.
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About the Artist
Sophockinille
Member since December 5 2014