A., 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: Kendrick Lamar & Kanye West] Hey baby you forgot your Ray Bans And my sheets still orange from your spray tan It was more than soft porn for the K-man She remember my Sprinter, said "I was in the grape van" Uhm, 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 pouring and niggas swarming your section with erection Smoke in every direction, middle finger pedestrians R&B singers and lesbians, rappers and managers Music and i Phone cameras This shit unanimous for you, it's damaging for you, I think That pussy should only be holding exclusive rights to me, I mean He flew you in this motherfucker 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? A., uh No more (Los Angeles) [Outro: Junie Morrison] 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 SWISH This song is the first collaboration between Kanye West & Kendrick Lamar. Kanye’s verse has drawn parallels to his sophomore album, After the pair joined forces for Kanye’s Yeezus Tour and Kendrick appeared in the writing credits on Kanye’s 2015 hit, “All Day”, rumors and speculation began to swirl about a possible collaboration.
A., 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 Had my life threatened by best friends with selfish intents What I'm supposed to do? 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 thought I wouldn't rap like this again But the writer's block is over, emcees cancel your plans A 38-year-old 8-year-old with rich nigga problems Tell my wife that I hate the Rolls so I don't never drive it It took 6 months to get the Maybach all matted out And my assistant crashed it soon as they backed it out God damn, got a bald 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 all my cousins I love 'em Even the one that stole the laptop, you dirty motherfucker [Bridge: Larry Graham] I just keep on lovin' you, baby And there's no one else I know who can take your place [Hook: Kanye West] Please, no more parties in L.
based artists swap stories on “No More Parties in LA,” playfully venting their frustrations with “rich people” problems and highlighting Hollywood’s greatest production: the fake celebrity lifestyle.
That shit don't add up, you're making him 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 dealing with malpractice, don't kill a good nigga'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 Make me say "Nam Myoho Renge Kyo" Make a nigga say big words and act lyrical Make me get spiritual Make me believe in miracles, Buddhist monks and Cap'n 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, moving units through consumer streets Then my shoe released, she was kicking 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 [Hook: Kanye West] Scary Scary No more parties in L. A [Verse 2: Kanye West] Friday night tryna make it into the city Breakneck speeds, passenger seat somethin' pretty Thinking back to how I got here in the first place Second class bitches wouldn't let me on first base A backpack nigga with luxury taste buds And the Louis Vuitton store, got all of my pay stubs Got pussy from beats I did for niggas more famous When did I become A list?
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Fortunately, the NFL is not trying to claim otherwise.
NFL Media reports that the league office considers that play “obviously a missed call.” Marshall lowered his helmet and launched himself directly at Newton’s head. Broncos linebacker Von Miller also hit Newton on a play that wasn’t flagged, but that wasn’t necessarily a missed call, as the league office contends that one was close enough that it’s reasonable for the officials not to have called it.