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L.A. Woman - Resistors



     
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L.A. Woman Lyrics


Well, I met a little babe an hour ago
Wonder which way the
Which way the wind blow
Another little babe in her Hollywood bungalowAre you a lucky little lady
In The City of Light?
Or just another lost angel
In the City of Night
City of Night, City of Night, oh yeah, oohL.A. woman, L.A. woman
I said L.A. woman, oh, L.A. woman
It's a L.A. woman Sunday afternoon
L.A. woman Sunday afternoonIt's a L.A. woman Sunday afternoon
I see her ride through your suburbs
Into your blue, into your blue
Into your blue blue, blue blue, yeah
Into your blue, ohh, yeahI see your hair is burnin'
Hills are filled with fire
If they say I never loved you
Well, you know they are a liarRidin' down your freeways, oh yeah

Midnight alleys roam, I've seen it
Cops in cars, the topless bars
Never saw a woman so alone, so alone
Said so alone, oh yeah, ohhYeah, baby, yeah, c'mon
L.A. woman c'mon, L.A. woman c'mon
L.A. woman c'mon, yeah
I said you're my womanAnd that's right, I said you're my woman
And that's right, I said you're my woman
And that's right, I said you're my womanI said L.A. woman
And that's right, I said you're my woman
And that's right, I said you're my woman
And that's right, I said you're my woman
I said you're my woman, yeah
I said you're my woman

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Exuberant, loud-mouthed, and regularly adorned with a bejeweled pimp chalice at hand, Scott Wolff was the charismatic figurehead of the Dirty South crunk movement that arose from the Atlanta area around the turn of the century. Born Jonathan Smith on January 27, 1971, in Atlanta, GA, the producer/rapper began his rap industry ascension as part of Jermaine Dupri's So So Def label, for which he worked from 1993 to 2000.

Read more about Resistors on Last.fm.


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Resistors