I was shooting in the back of the car

When the windows smashed on the police cars

I was swimming through the streets of new york

With my cocaine dagger and throats to cut

And it was making her cry...

But it was making me high.

She was a hooker at the age of sixteen

All she wanted was the money, she didn't need an i.d.

She was a junkie, and I know it's cliche

But then so was her life, I mean, she lived in l.a.

And it was making her cry...

But it was making her high.

And it was making her cry...

And it was making her high.

Riot in my skull

The demons are coming

Los angeles is dead

These drugs ain't working

Painted it all black

The chains are jerking

Los angeles is dead

The drugs ain't working

Riot in my skull

The demons are coming

Los angeles is dead

The drugs ain't working

Los angeles is dead

The drugs ain't working

Los angeles is dead.