Here in L.A. Deuce (Ft. Truth)

[Intro: The Truth]
Hollyhood in the house
Los Angeles, stand up

[Verse 1: The Truth]
I was having dreams, laid out on the futon
Knocks on my mama's crib, they came through, suit on
I couldn't save my life even if I had a coupon
Four years later, now I'm back with my jewels on
Yeah, I'm Mr. Hollyhood, ain't talking lights-camera
Money grow on fucking trees, yeah, I'm talking marijuana
I'm tucking pistol hammer, ain't tucking true December
I ain't talking baking soda, but I got that Arm and Hammer
Yeah, she got a head game, she be playing head games
Fucking with that real pimp, dunking on you hater lames
Sipping on the Haterade, get yourself a Minute Maid
Making moves, getting praised, switching lanes, interstate
Laker game, Staples Center, sitting next to O Jack
Nothing but the fucking truth, putting on a coldact
Riding through the boulevard, all clear, no tip
And I got my stripes on like Jay on his Blueprint

[Chorus: Deuce]
Here in LA, here in LA
All of our dreams come true, there's a reason
But we're here in LA, we're here in LA
So if you see me, don't be scared to greet me
Up here in LA, in LA