The burning sands of the lowlands
 
 "The L dot A dot"
 
 Tash of Tha Alkaholiks "Hip Hop Drunkies"
 
 Yo you don't know man?
 
 "The L dot A dot"
 
 Yo You don't know man? (x2)
 
  
  Verse 1:
 
 Give thanks that's what I say when I wake
 
 Another day in L.A. feel the sun bake
 
 I holla at Scott he knows about the spot
 
 At the beach Dockweiler nigga straight box
 
 I call up Swift let him know about the shit
 
 Call up Will
 
 He got the Henessy on chill
 
 I'm with Doncril he on deck with Santrel
 
 Rollin' bleezy like Terry McMillian wait to exhale
 
 My nigga Will stay off Stocka
 
 Some city got hot bitches but on Crenshaw it's hotta
 
 >From bad ass bitches to cold ass Impalas
 
 Vasea special with two glasses for twenty dollars
 
 It's hella hot we pull up to Dockweiler
 
 The scene is so lovely it makes me wanna holla
  
 
 Hook:
 
 The burning sands of the lowlands
 
 where sisters is bad man
 
 And brothers fear no man
 
 Yo you don't know man? (X2)
  
 
 Verse 2:
 
 Summertime 7:30 time for sunsets
 
 Sometimes I go and park with my queen and get lit
 
 Watch the sun cascade over the ocean
 
 Thoughts about how the Likwit gonna put it all in motion
 
 Sometimes I sit and watch and see dolphins
 
 Defari alumni
 
 From Pac 10 like Kenny Lofton
 
 Never soft stay healthy avoid coughs
 
 In L.A. we buy houses fuck apartments and lofts
 
 Yo my cold flow straight wild west professional
 
 California green from the trees down to the vegetables
 
 Wack MCs are also edible
 
 After six figures where I'm trying to see my decimal
 
 Pointland, cash in hand
 
 I'm on my way to see Phil in the Cressant Heights Lowland
  
 
 Hook (x4)
  
 
 Verse 3:
 
 Flex the skills see this broad with a baby strill
 
 Ass poppin out no doubt man I got's to kill
 
 Like Grant Hill I play with cool moves
 
 See niggas out here we ain't loud we straight smooth
 
 And don't mistakes fool for being chump
 
 Cause L.A. is the wrong place if you think niggas won't thump
 
 In a flash
 
 Sunshine, cars, bitches and cash
 
 Six foot rippers, chron blends with hash
 
 We classic like that T.V. show M.A.S.H.
 
 With bitches way badder than that broad Stacey Dash
 
 No jokin' that's word to brother deep dish spokin'
 
 Down the boulevard pint in hand straight smokin'
 
 No chokin', and no it's not brown that's word to Oakland
 
 One time sees us stoppin' for bitches and keeps rollin'
  
 
 Hook