CORRECT LYRICS
Lyrics : Stomping Grounds
Chorus: Wildcard
I don’t wanna leave tonight
I don’t wanna leave tonight
Oooho oohoo
I don’t wanna leave tonight
I don’t wanna leave tonight
Oooho oohoo
I’m from the itty-bitty city full of yards and hills
Where b*t*hes run around, high on shards and pills
Where darkness spills and the heartless chills
And whores perform oral for apartment bills
Your poet get lifted on a daily basis
You criticizing that sh*t, trade me places
Baby girl come out on the porch swing the ticket
She fourteen and wicked, and morphine addicted
Hair in a rat’s nest, can’t pass a math test
But glad that passed class that’s packed with her Dad’s meth
‘Round herе that sh*t’s a common occurrence
You bettеr have a weapon or some drama insurance
Tweakerville, most meth heads per capita
Don’t let my f**kin’ deathbed verse capture ya
Better move in packs under Hilliard moons or catch bad luck like proof in a billiard room
In Washington
I don’t wanna leave tonight
I don’t wanna leave tonight
Oooho oohoo
I don’t wanna leave tonight
I don’t wanna leave tonight
Oooho oohoo
As I walked through the San Gabriel Valley of death
That’s a part of Southern Cali, LA County is stretched
Ranged from upper middle-class people balancing checks
To dark criminals with triple beams, balancing meth
And both are in my heart that every single story I reflect
Plus, there's houses on the blocks even Mormons wouldn't neglect
And be careful if you caught up at the wrong intersection
Gangbangers are eager to teach you a geography lesson
That’s why I walk with a weapon to every spot that I step in
Palm trees hover above us and the darker is gettin’
And it’s ten miles west where the stars are born
They dreams of the big screens turn to hardcore porn
And they sex slaves beats gettin' pistol-whipped by Esés
The City of Angels ain’t just a f**kin’ catchphrase
When I leave it just compels me to suffer
f**k if heaven got a ghetto, I hope hell’s got a suburb
California
I don’t wanna leave tonight
I don’t wanna leave tonight
Oooho oohoo
I don’t wanna leave tonight
I don’t wanna leave tonight
Oooho oohoo
Okay, soldiers grab your gear
It's hoodies and jackets here
‘Cause it rains over half the year
Yeah, my city's as f**ked up as yours
Guns busting tours
Policemen who rough up the poor
Blunt puffing, young bucks frontin’
Guns tucked in drawers
No justice, this just us
f**k love, it’s war
I fight ‘til I have no enemies left
‘Cause the only thing as pretty as death is the city I rep
It’s home of the rose garden, the homeless are cold, starvin’
I’m hopin’ to go far in the role of a broke artist
How loading a whole cartridge
They stay shooting at us
My soldiers stay suited to bust I ain’t moving them drugs but may do it because I refuse to become the same dude I give change to on the bus
Man, if you only knew I gave you the total truth
The closer view of Portland that you get just rollin’ through
I don’t wanna leave tonight
I don’t wanna leave tonight
Oooho oohoo
I don’t wanna leave tonight
I don’t wanna leave tonight
Oooho oohoo
Yeah
Dead Poet
Wildcard
ILLmacuLate
Simple on the track
Stomping grounds
I don’t wanna leave tonight
I don’t wanna leave tonight
Oooho oohoo
I don’t wanna leave tonight
I don’t wanna leave tonight
Oooho oohoo
I’m from the itty-bitty city full of yards and hills
Where b*t*hes run around, high on shards and pills
Where darkness spills and the heartless chills
And whores perform oral for apartment bills
Your poet get lifted on a daily basis
You criticizing that sh*t, trade me places
Baby girl come out on the porch swing the ticket
She fourteen and wicked, and morphine addicted
Hair in a rat’s nest, can’t pass a math test
But glad that passed class that’s packed with her Dad’s meth
‘Round herе that sh*t’s a common occurrence
You bettеr have a weapon or some drama insurance
Tweakerville, most meth heads per capita
Don’t let my f**kin’ deathbed verse capture ya
Better move in packs under Hilliard moons or catch bad luck like proof in a billiard room
In Washington
I don’t wanna leave tonight
I don’t wanna leave tonight
Oooho oohoo
I don’t wanna leave tonight
I don’t wanna leave tonight
Oooho oohoo
As I walked through the San Gabriel Valley of death
That’s a part of Southern Cali, LA County is stretched
Ranged from upper middle-class people balancing checks
To dark criminals with triple beams, balancing meth
And both are in my heart that every single story I reflect
Plus, there's houses on the blocks even Mormons wouldn't neglect
And be careful if you caught up at the wrong intersection
Gangbangers are eager to teach you a geography lesson
That’s why I walk with a weapon to every spot that I step in
Palm trees hover above us and the darker is gettin’
And it’s ten miles west where the stars are born
They dreams of the big screens turn to hardcore porn
And they sex slaves beats gettin' pistol-whipped by Esés
The City of Angels ain’t just a f**kin’ catchphrase
When I leave it just compels me to suffer
f**k if heaven got a ghetto, I hope hell’s got a suburb
California
I don’t wanna leave tonight
I don’t wanna leave tonight
Oooho oohoo
I don’t wanna leave tonight
I don’t wanna leave tonight
Oooho oohoo
Okay, soldiers grab your gear
It's hoodies and jackets here
‘Cause it rains over half the year
Yeah, my city's as f**ked up as yours
Guns busting tours
Policemen who rough up the poor
Blunt puffing, young bucks frontin’
Guns tucked in drawers
No justice, this just us
f**k love, it’s war
I fight ‘til I have no enemies left
‘Cause the only thing as pretty as death is the city I rep
It’s home of the rose garden, the homeless are cold, starvin’
I’m hopin’ to go far in the role of a broke artist
How loading a whole cartridge
They stay shooting at us
My soldiers stay suited to bust I ain’t moving them drugs but may do it because I refuse to become the same dude I give change to on the bus
Man, if you only knew I gave you the total truth
The closer view of Portland that you get just rollin’ through
I don’t wanna leave tonight
I don’t wanna leave tonight
Oooho oohoo
I don’t wanna leave tonight
I don’t wanna leave tonight
Oooho oohoo
Yeah
Dead Poet
Wildcard
ILLmacuLate
Simple on the track
Stomping grounds
