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It's nine o' clock on |
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Monday morning and |
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I'm late I stayed up drinking with the girls from |
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Silver Lake |
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With no make-up on |
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I get into my car |
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And then I drive into the freeway parking lot |
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They say I'm lazy, |
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I'm always late |
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Full of excuses, |
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I'm from L |
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A They say |
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I'm careless, can't find my way |
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Crazy and precious, |
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I'm from L |
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A I'm all hung over, feels like nails inside my head |
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It's getting hot, the sweat is dripping down my legs |
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The air conditioner still broken from the quake |
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And now I'm melting like a wax doll in the flames (Here in LA) |
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They say I'm lazy, |
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I'm always late |
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Full of excuses, |
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I'm from L |
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A They say |
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I'm careless, can't find my way |
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Crazy and precious, |
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I'm from L |
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A The radio says sig alert all throughout the five |
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I'm right behind an ugly |
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Saab with broken lights |
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I put my make-up on while |
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Betty's on the line |
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With nothing else to do it helps me pass the time |
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They say we are lazy, we are always late |
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Full of excuses, we are from |
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LA They say we are careless, can't find our way |
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Crazy and precious, we are from |
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LA |
