Music Video

The Game - State of Emergency - LAX [dirty version]
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Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
The Game
The Game
Vocals
Ice Cube
Ice Cube
Vocals
Jonathan Rotem
Jonathan Rotem
All Instruments
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Jonathan Rotem
Jonathan Rotem
Songwriter
O'Shea Jackson
O'Shea Jackson
Songwriter
Jayceon Terrell Taylor
Jayceon Terrell Taylor
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Jonathan Rotem
Jonathan Rotem
Producer
Chris Doremus Clarke
Chris Doremus Clarke
Assistant Mixing Engineer
Geoff Gibbs
Geoff Gibbs
Recording Engineer
Greg Ogan
Greg Ogan
Recording Engineer
Samuel Kalandjian
Samuel Kalandjian
Assistant Mixing Engineer
Steve Daniel Baughman
Steve Daniel Baughman
Mixing Engineer

Lyrics

California ain't a state it's an army One motherfucker in the projects killin The same motherfucker that'll burn down the village With a chronic blunt full of that you know who gon Take you back to Compton in that 6-4 two-door Sub whoofers in the trunk kickin that lethal injection A hood nigga lost with no direction So we bought a blacksmith in western strapped on his vest and that's his protection At the intersection waitin on arrival cause in the city of angels it's all about survival Fuck the 5-0 they wanna see you D.O.A welcome to L.A. Where the ghetto birds flying over my aunties and my cousin house Tell me what they buzzin bout the lil homie got smoked on the corner And now his momma cryin dead in california Motherfuckers ain't gon learn till the chronic blunt don't burn And you can't see nothin but the ghetto bird light shining through the fuckin palm trees California ain't a state it's a army Motherfuckers ain't gon learn till the chronic blunt don't burn And you can't see nothin but the ghetto bird light shining through the fuckin palm trees California ain't a state it's a army Jumped in my impala took a trip to the swap meet To scoop up ego trippin and a white t Cause some niggas in my old hood don't like me Time to put they ass in check like my nikes Shoulda hit my nigga mack 10 on the chirp All I need is me and my bitch if you scared go to church Cause them california niggas crack heads for the turf And life ain't nothin but tech nines and dirt Dippin through the jungles my escalade hit a dip fuck Here come the gorillas in the mist And they dressed like ice cube was in 96' Stone cold jerry curls not one drip I'll sleep with the worms 'fore I swim with the fish And I'll ride with my niggas 'fore I roll with a bitch If it don't make dollars it don't make sense And I almost got shot cause I could'nthit a fence Motherfuckers ain't gon learn till the chronic blunt don't burn And you can't see nothin but the ghetto bird light shining through the fuckin palm trees California ain't a state it's a army Motherfuckers ain't gon learn till the chronic blunt don't burn And you can't see nothin but the ghetto bird light shining through the fuckin palm trees California ain't a state it's a army Call the U.S. government and tell em it's a motherfuckin code red Niggas try to straight up jack me now they both dead Third lil nigga got away on his moped Caught him round the corner put the beam on his forehead Jumped in the impala then smashed through the light Without him one time in sight so I bust a right Oh century headed to the L.A.X where ain't nothin but fly bitches and jets In and out of lanes and I almost wrecked [? ] nigga in a 600 throwin up the set He must don't know I got the 40 on deck and the tech Tryna be [? ] time to flex it's the third time this shit happened to me all day Guess it's time to add another dead body to the doorway So I turned down my spice one tape and hit the switch Emptied the whole clip in his fuckin face Motherfuckers ain't gon learn till the chronic blunt don't burn And you can't see nothin but the ghetto bird light shining through the fuckin palm trees California ain't a state it's a army Motherfuckers ain't gon learn till the chronic blunt don't And you can't see nothin but the ghetto bird light shining through the fuckin palm trees California ain't a state it's a army California ain't a state it's a army
Writer(s): O'shea Jackson, Jayceon Terrell Taylor, Jonathan Reuven Rotem Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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