L.A. is the place, sets my mind ablaze
For me, it's a race through a cotton pickin' maze
For you, it's a chase but I lose you in the haze
and now you spend your days catching rain in your cahise, go out!

The town makes me jump, it's got a bunch of bad chicks
Well sure, it's got some chumps but I still get my kicks
My body loves to scrump when I lick the ripe pick
Like a come on a thumb
Poppin' hump, hump, hump, pop out

(bass solo)

The action never stops, I'm as wild as can be
'Cos I'm shooting for the top and my best friend is Flea
Oom Chucka w____ knew the b____ to pop
But he never met the Tree so he never be-bopped out hop!

(guitar solo)

Antwan the Swan, from the pretty fish pond
Was a bad mother jumper, you could tell he was strong
He war a cold paisley jacket and a hellified hat
And between his legs was a c___ sucking lass

He threw a hundred women up against the wall
And he swore to fear that he'd f___ 'em all

By the time he got to ninety nine, he had to stop
Because that's when he thought that he heard a phone

Last night and the night before, I heard a
Fop outside, then I came in doors
Rock out!

Now that I told you a little something about the Flea
A little something about the Tree, a little something about me
I can't leave you hangin' bout my man Baby B who spills the ??? they be jammin backstage ??? of the noise

See also:
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