Lyrics Palms - Malkovich Music

Palms
California
Brought to ya by big bad Los Angeles
405 north or the 10 west'll get you there
If you got a hour to spare
Traffic stays backed up to the pier, you hear
Clear shot down Venice
Drag race past Woodbine Park
Where Snoop Dogg caught his murder case
Where we hung in the day
Bumping that purple tape
Back when Milx used to live on Regent Place
BLX crew creates out the crates
Six cats, a four-track, one take
Yeah, we them cats that had that one tape
You bumped four years straight with no fucking break
Fools know the MO and can't hate
We do our own thing and that's about to be your thing, just wait
Palms
California
Brought to ya by big bad Los Angeles
Throw up ya handkerchiefs
I'm worldwide, grab your atlases
But when you wanna come see me you know where the palace is
And I'm the landlord here, fuck the managers
Need somewhere to crash or live? get at us
We been running every unit
Since this spot was run by old school Crips
With shot glasses and yak in their tool kits
My folks is in the walls like the roaches
Every A.P.T. a party, buenos noches
Lifestyles of the almost homeless
Word to Jesse in the parking lot, sleeping in a Focus
Run the shit like The Carter slash Godfather
With palm trees larger than Jakarta's
Might look like a vacation
But everyone's job one is maintaining
I ain't playing
Palms

You heard?
Some dude dropped dead in front of the market
My sister's truck got boosted front of the apartment
The new building owners trying to start shit
Just got back from the fucking housing department
Had to bail a neighbor out
Didn't want to but I did
Had her handcuffed in front of her kids
Mrs Brown stays in dialysis, woe is me
Her grandson with the all-blue truck got bucked off Normandie
Few folks walking outta Saints getting shot
And the SWAT team just dropped on Mexican block
Some cat tried to jack Radio Shack
Cops caught him by the donut shop
He pulled gat
Fade to black
RIP Monica Beresford
Strangled by her husband, everyone on Venice heard
The people downstairs just got a bad call
I heard screaming, and now half of Pakistan's down there
And there ain't no fucking money out here
Every store window says for sale, Cali's on the rails
Making rent is hell
And in the end half the homeys had to move
Yeah, I'm saving your mail
Don't know how long I'll stay around
Fingers crossed, my lady takes me back
And we can move outta town
Everybody here's on their way somewhere else
But here's where some of us found ourselves
Palms