Music videos Rap Kanye West No More Parties In LA

Kanye West - No More Parties In LA

Текст песни: [Intro: Junie Morrison] La di da di da da, I like this flavor, La di da di da la, Let me tell you, I'm out here from a very far away place All for a chance to be a star, Nowhere seems to be too far. [Chorus: Kanye West] No more parties in LA, Please, baby, no more parties in LA, uh! No more parties in LA, Please, baby, no more parties in LA, uh! No more Los Angeles, Please, shake that body, party that bod! Please, shake that body, party that body! Please, shake that body, party that body! [Verse 1:] [Kanye West:] Hey, baby, you forgot your Ray Bans, And my sheets still orange from your spray tan. [Kendrick Lamar:] It was more than soft porn for the K-man, She remember my Sprinter, said, "I was in the grape van," Uh, well, cutie, I like your bougie booty, Come Erykah Badu me, well, let's make a movie, Hell, you know my repertoire is like a wrestler, I show you the ropes, connect the dots. A country girl that love Hollywood, Mama used to cook red beans and rice, Now it's Denny's, 4 in the morning, spoil your appetite, Liquor pourin' and n**gas swarmin' your section with erection, Smoke in every direction, middle finger pedestrians, R&B singers and lesbians, rappers and managers, Music and iPhone cameras, This shit unanimous for you, it's damagin' for you, one thing – That pussy should only be holdin' exclusive rights to me, I mean, He flew you in this mothafucka on first class, Even went out his way so you could check in an extra bag, Now you wanna divide the yam like it equate the math? That shit don't add up, you're makin' them mad as fuck, She said she came out here to find an A-list rapper, I said, “Baby, spin that round and say the alphabet backwards. You're dealin' with malpractice, don't kill a good n**ga's confidence Just ‘cause he a nerd and you don't know what a condom is”. The head still good, though, the head still good, though, Ladies say "Nam Myoho Renge Kyo", Make a n**ga say big words and act lyrical, Make me get spiritual, Make me believe in miracles, Buddhist monks and Captain Crunch cereal. Lord, have mercy, thou will not hurt me, Five buddies all herded up on a Thursday, Bottle service, head service, I came in first place, The opportunity, the proper top of breast and booty cheek, The pop community, I mean these bitches come with union fee, And I want two of these, movin' units through consumer streets, Then my shoe released, she was kickin' in gratuity, And, yeah, G, I was all for it. She said, “K Lamar, you kind of dumb to be a poet.” I'ma put you on game for the lames that don't know they're a rookie, Instagram is the best way to promote some pussy. [Verse 2: Kanye West] Scary, Scary, No more parties in LA, Please, baby, no more parties in LA. Friday night tryna make it into the city, Breakneck speeds, passenger seat something pretty, Thinkin' back to how I got here in the first place, Second class bitches wouldn't let me on first base, A backpack n**ga with luxury taste buds, And the Louis Vuitton store got all of my pay stubs, Got pussy from beats I did for n**gas more famous. When did I become A-list? I wasn't even on a list, Strippers get invited to where they only get hired, When I get on my Steve Jobs, somebody gon' get fired, I was uninspired since Lauryn Hill retired, And 3 Stacks, man, you preach it to the choir. Any rumor you heard about me was true and legendary, I done got Lewinsky and paid secretaries For all my n**gas with babies by bitches That use their kids as meal tickets Not knowin' the disconnect from the father, The next generation will be the real victims, I can't fault 'em really. I remember Amber told my boy no matter what happens she ain't goin' back to Philly, Back to our regularly scheduled programmin' Of week content of slow jammin', But don't worry, this one's so jammin', You know it, LA, it's so jammin'. I be thinkin' every day, Mulholland Drive need to put up some goddamn barricades, I be paranoid every time, The pressure, the problem, ain't I be drivin'? The problem is I be textin'. My psychiatrist got kids that I inspired, First song they played for me was 'bout their friend that just died, Textin' and drivin' down Mulholland Drive, That's why I'd rather take the 405. I be worried 'bout my daughter, I be worried 'bout Kim, But Saint is baby Ye, I ain't worried 'bout him. I had my life threatened by best friends who had selfish intents, What I'm supposed to do? Ride around with a bulletproof car and some tints? Every agent I know know I hate agents, I'm too black, I'm too vocal, I'm too flagrant, Something smellin' like shit, that's the new fragrance, It's just me, I do it my way, bitch! Some days I'm in my Yeezys, some days I'm in my Vans, If I knew y'all made plans, I wouldn't have popped the Xans, I know some fans who thought I wouldn't rap like this again, But the writer's block is over, MC's cancel your plans! I'm 38 years old, a eight-year-old with rich n**ga problems, Tell my wife that I hate the road so I ain't never drivin', It took six months to take the Maybach all matted out, And my assistant crashed as soon as they backed it out. Gotdamn, got up of fade, I might slam, Pink fur, got Nori dressin' like Cam, thank God for me! Whole family gettin' money, thank God for E! I love rockin' jewelry, a whole neck full, Bitches say he funny and disrespectful, I feel like Pablo when I'm workin' on my shoes, I feel like Pablo when I see me on the news, I feel like Pablo when I'm workin' on my house, Tell 'em party's in here, we don't need to go out. We need the turbo thots, high speed, turbo thots, Drop-dro-dro-dro-drop it like Robocop, She brace herself and hold my stomach, good dick'll do that, She keep pushin' me back, good dick'll do that, She push me back when the dick go too deep, This good dick'll put your ass to sleep. Get money, money, money, money, Big, big money, money, money, money, And as far as real friends, tell my cousins I love 'em, Even the one that stole the laptop, you dirty mothafucka! [Larry Graham:] I just keep on lovin' you, baby, And there's no one else I know who can take your place. [Chorus: Kanye West] Please, no more parties in LA, Please, baby, no more parties in LA, uh! No more parties in LA, Please, baby, no more parties in LA, uh! No more parties in LA, Please, baby, no more parties in LA, uh! No more Los Angeles. [Outro:] I'm out here from a very far away place All for a chance to be a star, Nowhere seems to be too far. SWISH!

PT6M15S True 2021-05-14 120 90
Kanye West – Kanye West was born in Atlanta, but after his parents divorced, he moved to Chicago with his mother. The family was middle-class, and West's mom was an English professor. So Kanye studied well at school, and after graduation began to study at the American Academy of Arts, but his passion for music overpowered everyone else, and Kanye left the school to start recording and producing albums. West's first successful work was Jay-Z's "The Blueprint" (2001), more precisely, four tracks from this record. At the time of the beginning of the collaboration, Kanye was nothing compared to the super-successful producer and rapper Jay-Z. The latter even at first refused to sign West to his label Roc-A-Fella, believing that West would be more successful as a producer - his own work did not bear the "criminal" and "street" character, so popular among the majority of hip-hop audience. However, in 2004 Roc-A-Fella released West's debut album "The College Dropout". The album cover features a life-size puppet of Teddy bear, who was kicked out of college - apparently West was still worried about his "ruined" education. Subsequently, this bear, called the "dropout bear", became a kind of symbol of West and his work. – Каные Вест
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[Intro: Junie Morrison]
La di da di da da,
I like this flavor,
La di da di da la,
Let me tell you,
I'm out here from a very far away place
All for a chance to be a star,
Nowhere seems to be too far.

[Chorus: Kanye West]
No more parties in LA,
Please, baby, no more parties in LA, uh!
No more parties in LA,
Please, baby, no more parties in LA, uh!
No more Los Angeles,
Please, shake that body, party that bod!
Please, shake that body, party that body!
Please, shake that body, party that body!

[Verse 1:]
[Kanye West:]
Hey, baby, you forgot your Ray Bans,
And my sheets still orange from your spray tan.
[Kendrick Lamar:]
It was more than soft porn for the K-man,
She remember my Sprinter, said, "I was in the grape van,"
Uh, well, cutie, I like your bougie booty,
Come Erykah Badu me, well, let's make a movie,
Hell, you know my repertoire is like a wrestler,
I show you the ropes, connect the dots.
A country girl that love Hollywood,
Mama used to cook red beans and rice,
Now it's Denny's, 4 in the morning, spoil your appetite,
Liquor pourin' and n**gas swarmin' your section with erection,
Smoke in every direction, middle finger pedestrians,
R&B singers and lesbians, rappers and managers,
Music and iPhone cameras,
This shit unanimous for you, it's damagin' for you, one thing –
That pussy should only be holdin' exclusive rights to me, I mean,
He flew you in this mothafucka on first class,
Even went out his way so you could check in an extra bag,
Now you wanna divide the yam like it equate the math?
That shit don't add up, you're makin' them mad as fuck,
She said she came out here to find an A-list rapper,
I said, “Baby, spin that round and say the alphabet backwards.
You're dealin' with malpractice, don't kill a good n**ga's confidence
Just ‘cause he a nerd and you don't know what a condom is”.
The head still good, though, the head still good, though,
Ladies say "Nam Myoho Renge Kyo",
Make a n**ga say big words and act lyrical,
Make me get spiritual,
Make me believe in miracles, Buddhist monks and Captain Crunch cereal.
Lord, have mercy, thou will not hurt me,
Five buddies all herded up on a Thursday,
Bottle service, head service, I came in first place,
The opportunity, the proper top of breast and booty cheek,
The pop community, I mean these bitches come with union fee,
And I want two of these, movin' units through consumer streets,
Then my shoe released, she was kickin' in gratuity,
And, yeah, G, I was all for it.
She said, “K Lamar, you kind of dumb to be a poet.”
I'ma put you on game for the lames that don't know they're a rookie,
Instagram is the best way to promote some pussy.

[Verse 2: Kanye West]
Scary,
Scary,
No more parties in LA,
Please, baby, no more parties in LA.
Friday night tryna make it into the city,
Breakneck speeds, passenger seat something pretty,
Thinkin' back to how I got here in the first place,
Second class bitches wouldn't let me on first base,
A backpack n**ga with luxury taste buds,
And the Louis Vuitton store got all of my pay stubs,
Got pussy from beats I did for n**gas more famous.
When did I become A-list? I wasn't even on a list,
Strippers get invited to where they only get hired,
When I get on my Steve Jobs, somebody gon' get fired,
I was uninspired since Lauryn Hill retired,
And 3 Stacks, man, you preach it to the choir.
Any rumor you heard about me was true and legendary,
I done got Lewinsky and paid secretaries
For all my n**gas with babies by bitches
That use their kids as meal tickets
Not knowin' the disconnect from the father,
The next generation will be the real victims,
I can't fault 'em really.
I remember Amber told my boy no matter what happens she ain't goin' back to Philly,
Back to our regularly scheduled programmin'
Of week content of slow jammin',
But don't worry, this one's so jammin',
You know it, LA, it's so jammin'.
I be thinkin' every day,
Mulholland Drive need to put up some goddamn barricades,
I be paranoid every time,
The pressure, the problem, ain't I be drivin'?
The problem is I be textin'.
My psychiatrist got kids that I inspired,
First song they played for me was 'bout their friend that just died,
Textin' and drivin' down Mulholland Drive,
That's why I'd rather take the 405.
I be worried 'bout my daughter, I be worried 'bout Kim,
But Saint is baby Ye, I ain't worried 'bout him.
I had my life threatened by best friends who had selfish intents,
What I'm supposed to do?
Ride around with a bulletproof car and some tints?
Every agent I know know I hate agents,
I'm too black, I'm too vocal, I'm too flagrant,
Something smellin' like shit, that's the new fragrance,
It's just me, I do it my way, bitch!
Some days I'm in my Yeezys, some days I'm in my Vans,
If I knew y'all made plans, I wouldn't have popped the Xans,
I know some fans who thought I wouldn't rap like this again,
But the writer's block is over, MC's cancel your plans!
I'm 38 years old, a eight-year-old with rich n**ga problems,
Tell my wife that I hate the road so I ain't never drivin',
It took six months to take the Maybach all matted out,
And my assistant crashed as soon as they backed it out.
Gotdamn, got up of fade, I might slam,
Pink fur, got Nori dressin' like Cam, thank God for me!
Whole family gettin' money, thank God for E!
I love rockin' jewelry, a whole neck full,
Bitches say he funny and disrespectful,
I feel like Pablo when I'm workin' on my shoes,
I feel like Pablo when I see me on the news,
I feel like Pablo when I'm workin' on my house,
Tell 'em party's in here, we don't need to go out.
We need the turbo thots, high speed, turbo thots,
Drop-dro-dro-dro-drop it like Robocop,
She brace herself and hold my stomach, good dick'll do that,
She keep pushin' me back, good dick'll do that,
She push me back when the dick go too deep,
This good dick'll put your ass to sleep.
Get money, money, money, money,
Big, big money, money, money, money,
And as far as real friends, tell my cousins I love 'em,
Even the one that stole the laptop, you dirty mothafucka!

[Larry Graham:]
I just keep on lovin' you, baby,
And there's no one else I know who can take your place.

[Chorus: Kanye West]
Please, no more parties in LA,
Please, baby, no more parties in LA, uh!
No more parties in LA,
Please, baby, no more parties in LA, uh!
No more parties in LA,
Please, baby, no more parties in LA, uh!
No more Los Angeles.

[Outro:]
I'm out here from a very far away place
All for a chance to be a star,
Nowhere seems to be too far.
SWISH!





















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