I was shooting in the back of the car,
when the window smashed from a police car.
I was swimming through the streets of New York
with my cocaine dagger and throw it to the car.
And it was making her cry.
And it was making her cry.
And it was making her cry.
And it was making me high.
She was a hooker at the age of 16. All she wanted was the money.
She didn't need an RV.
She was a junkie and I know it's cliche,
but then so was her life.
I mean, she lived in
LA. And it was making her cry.
And it was making her cry.
And it was making her cry.
But it was making her high.
And it was making her cry.
And it was making her cry.
And it was making her cry.
But it was making her high.
And it was making her cry.
And it was making her cry.
Money was gold whose deed as it credible,
for scandalous mistake,
We're still gonna cry.
We're still gonna cry.
We're still gonna cry.
We're still gonna cry.
We're still gonna cry.
We're still gonna cry.
We're still gonna cry.
We're still gonna cry.
We're still gonna cry.
We're still gonna cry.
We're still gonna cry.
We're still gonna cry.
We're
still gonna cry.
Riot in my skull,
demons are coming.
LNU down,
drugs ain't working.
Painted in all black,
chains to the key.
LA, it stays here.
The drugs ain't working.
LA, it did.
The drugs ain't working.
LA, it did.
The drugs ain't working.
Drugs ain't working.
Drugs ain't working.
Drugs ain't working.