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If you could, why you lie? But your prize let's us him 'em with it Where they are, what ya do It's a deal, can't get out of it I was throwing out the pens and paper I keep running on the "smell you later" I'm a poor boy from the good tree What does Los Angeles want with me? Sitting at a desk, that's sweet Not tryna be forgotten Look at me, look at me, look at me Me and my ego sitting in a tree K-I-S-S-I-N-G Nothing new but I'll do it every week I'm a rockstar, prob not though Sock em, I'm kinda some Chicago Shitty business at the rock show Looking good bro, where's your head though? I'm not gonna lie but it kinda looks a little bit special when I try to think I can smell a thousand rhymes combing through the thick of it Something's gonna start to stink (Ah-ah) Letras de cancionesI'm a poor boy from the good tree What does Los Angeles want with me? Sitting at my desk, that's sweet Not tryna be forgotten I don't care what you've heard Industry's a dirty word Sing it loud, sing a little louder Sitting on the fence, that's sweet Not tryna be forgotten La-la-la... I'm a poor boy from the good tree What does Los Angeles want with me? Sitting at my desk, that's sweet Not tryna be forgotten I don't care what you've heard Industry's a dirty word Sing it loud, sing a little louder Sitting on the fence, that's sweet Not tryna be forgotten If you could, why you lie? But your prize let's us him 'em with it Where they are, what ya do It's a deal, can't get out of it From Letras Mania