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
And it was making her cry
And it was making her cry
But it was making me high

She was a hooker at the age of 16
All she wanted was the money
She didn't need an I.D.
She was a junkie and I know its cliché
But then so was her life
I mean, she lived in L.A.

And it was making her cry
And it was making her cry
And it was making her cry
But it was making her high

And it was making her cry
And it was making her cry
And it was making her cry
But it was making her high
And it was making her cry
And it was making her cry
(Riot in my skull, demons are coming)
And it was making her cry
(Los Angeles is dead, the drugs ain't working)
And it was making her cry
(Painted it all black, the chains are jerking)
And it was making her cry
(Los Angeles is dead, the drugs ain't working)
And it was making her cry
(Riot in my skull, demons are coming)
And it was making her cry
(Los Angeles is dead, the drugs ain't working)
And it was making her cry
(Los Angeles is dead, the drugs ain't working)

Riot in my skull, demons are coming
L.A. your dead, the drugs ain't working
Painted it all black, the chains are jerking
L.A. is dead, the drugs ain't working
L.A. your dead, the drugs ain't working
L.A. your dead, the drugs ain't working
The drugs ain't working
The drugs ain't working