s shooting in the back of the car When the windows smashed on the police cars I was swimming through the streets of New York With my cocaine dagger and throats to cut And it was making her cry And it was making her cry And it was making her cry But it wa

I was shooting in the back of the car When the windows smashed on the police cars I was swimming through the streets of New York With my cocaine dagger and throats to cut And it was making her cry And it was making her cry And it was making her cry But it was making me high She was an hooker at the age of sixteen All she wanted was the money, she didn't need an I.D. She was a junkie, and I know it's cliche But then so was her life, I mean, she lived in L.A. And it was making her cry And it was making her cry And it was making her cry But it was making her high And it was making her cry And it was making her cry And it was making her cry But it was making her high And it was making her cry And it was making her cry Riot in my skull The demons are coming Los Angeles is dead These drugs ain't working Painted it all black The chains are jerking Los Angeles is dead The drugs ain't working Riot in my skull The demons are coming Los Angeles is dead These drugs ain't working Los Angeles is dead The drugs ain't working Los Angeles is dead The drugs ain't working The drugs ain't working Los Angeles is dead The drugs ain't working Working, working, working Riot in my skull Demons are coming L.A. is dead Drugs ain't working Painted it all black Chains are jerking L.A. is dead Drugs ain't working L.A. is dead Drugs ain't working L.A. is dead Drugs ain't working Drugs ain't working Drugs ain't working Drugs ain't working