[bad word] 

Born in LA, it’s hard to get [bad word] 
Born in LA so I always keep my guard up 
Born in LA, must deal where I stay 
Everyday, everyday, everyday

[Verse 1: Chace Infinite]

I’m from a city that breeds death, multiple shots firing 
Home of the violent niggas wilding, half-city half-island 
I was born in a wood, raised in the San Fernando valley 
Where there’s eses and mostly Bloods 
Big family so I had covers from different hoods 
That taught me the landscape of the city and I was good 
Driven by the desire to document the lives under fire 
Then present it to you through the wire 
Had to [bad word] with gang codes and navigate a path 
Through the maze of Los Angeles [bad word] a man 
Hopes [bad word] smoking the lung up here in the can 
These streets respect killers and I’m just a man 
But yet it’s still ? remember that Chace told ya 
The nation is infected by LA gang culture 
I’m an all-game reporter live from the center 
Where respected as an artist and a thorough street [bad word] 
My birthplace, my home, and I’ll be buried on Prairie across the street from where I was born in LA
 [bad word] 

[Verse 2: Evidence]

I’m from a place where stars are born 
Weather is never cold, hearts are never warm 
The gang capital, night time injection, cut life is lethal 
And daytime is a sunny place for shady people 
It’s your boy, my father stole his son out the hospital 
No loot wasn’t stopping his joy, had it popping 
Raised in Santa Monica till their divorce 
Six years old, I couldn’t see what [bad word] 
Of course the plan, mom bounced on old man 
Then we moved to the Venice sand 
young youth seen gangs firsthand 
Faked address for school, two educations 
Rich friends then back to my land 
You was hard where I’m from, it’s a well-known fact 
Whether a white cat, brown, or black 
When you heard shots it was never from starter pistols 
Every night’s Fourth of July, launch your missiles 
LA is different since my best friend is gone 
Some moved locations, some just moved on (Rest in peace) 
The neighbourhood changed, new faces came along 
Had me asking myself if this a place I belong 
My hustle is strong, I’m up before them 
Rap caffeine marathon long, determined 
Venice, California, 9091, let’s go
 [bad word] 

[Verse 3: Sick Jacken]

I got a sixth sense for danger man, a second-hand nature for war 
The biggest rivals in my city is the law 
I’m from that Pico Union district homie, [bad word] what you thought 
We got trees, windows, and raw, whatever you on 
I’m just a pawn in that federal plan to get us all on 
nice little high, shoot each other for [bad word] 
One by one, dying from wars that’s won by none 
Some [bad word] and make a [bad word] out of my son 
So I’m strapped with a gun making sure the axis [bad word] 
From my body are only medicine pass through my lungs 
I got that downtown psyche, Cortes with a Nike logo 
Locos like me treated pipes like wifeys 
? up and down the blocks nightly 
Don’t take my block lightly 
We’re screwed up like everybody in the world might be 
Born into Union the 17th out the womb 
In the 70’s repping Lost Angels through the musical melodies
 [bad word]