Asher Roth - No More Parties In L.A. (Freestyle) Lyrics

[Johnny "Guitar" Watson & Junie Morrison:]
La di da da-a, da-a (I like this flavor)
La da da da di da da-a, la-a
Let me tell you, I'm out here
From a very far away place (Me too)
All for a chance to be a star
Nowhere seems to be too far

[Asher Roth:]
Moved to LA for like 4, 5 years or something
It was cool, I was new to this endless summer
Used to cruise in the hills bumping Rampage tapes
JP playing beats thinking life's so great
Like hey, what a beautiful day
Let's go to the beach, and check out the waves
Maybe check out some babes, even smoking some weight
Knowing damn well [?] that this life don't play
But anyway went from [?]
Dreams of one day to have a Hollywood mansion
Damn son, what was you on?
Fuck any assistant of [?]
Distracted by the scene, didn't know I was wrong
Hoped to get me a song, hoping that I get on
But now I know though
Bitches do anything for a photo at the SoHo
Move to L.A. and pretend that they a model
Pay $1000 for a Grey Goose bottle
Then be sleepin' on the couch of the promoter's condo
Gosh girl, get you a job
Serving at the bar but she don't even charge for round 2 though
True though, dude look good in bathing suits though
[?] with that [?] tuna
Then tune up at Equinox
Working on [?] quads, glutes, other body parts
Oops, have I said a lot
Oh look at you looking cute, booty too
What's that Instagram?
I ain't for that, more bout that raw rap
[?] freestyle, need more that
Even way before that, that 2Pac Shakur [?]
Alcoholic sugar free speak kind of sort of
Getting too cute, need to be ruthless
Something in your tooth little dude, you look stupid
Talking [?] on the news type clueless
Crew probably stab you in the back like Brutus
Truth is not here for some motherfucking call back
Here to make moves and to juke you out your jock strap
Hanging with the [?] and the hot tracks
Hollywood groups, lick my tiny little ball sack
So I had to move back to Philly, boom-bap for really
No more parties in LA with Lohan [?]
I mean Molly on the side probably smiling so wide
Cause she know celebrities all dying inside
And I ain't got time to waste
Hope you got the good side of my face
Or I'll lie about my age
And I'm on the front page of some tabloid
Saying that my management blame it on my bad boy phase
Please believe it, fame I don't need it
This ain't no shade to LA or [?]
This is just to say that the game try to lead us
To bright and shiny things and I'm saying you can keep
So shouts to Kendrick and Q, Jay Rock, and Odd Future
Earl if you need that apple sauce, know I got you, yo
Vince be the truth, Nippsey [?]
Buddy when I get back, have them Backwoods cued
So I be getting dough while I'm working on the floor
You be doing blow with one O with hopes to see Leo, please
Not me yo, deal but no deal
Leave you with one spiel for real, and that's to be yourself

No more parties in LA
Please baby, no more parties in LA
Okay well, maybe I'll go for a few days
But only if I hit the Lakers game with Dave
But jeeze, no more parties in LA
Come on, no more parties in LA

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Asher Roth No More Parties In L.A. (Freestyle) Comments
  1. Gabriel Brown

    If you need the Apple sauce I got you

  2. Jariuana

    sounds just a little slowed down/slightly off from the original he had on Soundcloud.


    Jariuana we never change or edit a song in any way when we upload it, it's taken directly from an artist's page



  3. Ryan Dellegar


  4. Stephen Buckner

    Favorite White rapper

    Savage Music Clique

    You have yet to hear the best, though...

    "Spaced out whem i pedal the porsche
    I circumnavigate earth, centripetal force..
    You push, I pull the vagina.
    Breaking headboards like bull to the china"
    ..... no one can catch every metaphor in that track upon first listen. There's one in every single line... I shit thee naught.

    Killing this track
    like I'm hanging the beat
    Wear a mitten on your dick,
    you're banging the heat

    You shoot slugs? I'm stock with a salter
    I go hard, like the rock of gibraltar...

    Yeah, I'm a lyrical misfit
    Spit truth like I'm spiritualistic
    Big head, satirical wig-fit
    I give her new life, I miracle dicked it.

    Conviction's fiction. No words...
    But, the dictions friction.
    (dick shuns friction...)

    Hit him from his lips to his gators
    and walk out slow as I tip the waiter

    It's over easy, I leave your yoke running
    I'm always lit, you can see the smoke comin
    Dirty southern warrior burnin on the corner
    Known in my city as a burden on the coroner
    Swervin, bourbon got me wrong lane
    Like a foreigner..
    Calls from your girl,
    but my girls been ignoring her

    I'm iced up like I'm sittin on a coaster
    I stop hearts, I'm a triple digit closer
    I pop tarts.... when I hitem witha toaster.

    Call me cyclops cause my eye('s) solo/so low
    Japan 41' cause I fly so low/solo

    One time I typed out the significance and meaning of the allusions in the last aforementioned lines... It was more than two pages long. In fact, the first verse on Jay z chains is the most intricate 16 ever written. Prove me wrong.


    Listen to yourself, there's no white rappers.

  5. Pipita Manana