L.A. Song (I Hate Clubs)

This is for the club, stupid! [Verse 1] Welcome to L.A., the big city of dreams Hot Karl's here to report about this bougie night scene I'm not being mean, I'm just telling it how it is The same clubs every week if you in the Hollywood biz And there's lines around the block where you can't see the end Lots of fuckers wearing black, yelling "Jen, let me in! I'm a V.I.P.! When will she ever learn?! I shouldn't wait in line, hell, I'm Kato Kaelin's intern!" I'm standing right behind them, chilling, laughing These clubs the best place to see some fucked-up fashion Like guys in wifebeaters, man, it probably wouldn't hurt You'd get in the club quicker if you wore a fucking shirt And girls in Gucci hats? Come on now, please You look like the retarded sister of Alicia Keys And girls in miniskirts where you could see their bare ass If I drop change on the floor like John Candy in "Splash" And don't act like you rich, c'mon bitch, I'm not dumb Unless they raised the prices at Forever 21 Yo, this shit's a gas, and even though I'm talking shit Where else can you see actresses hook up with other chicks? They'll say the Fire Marshall'll shut it down, but that's a lie Cause once you're let in, there's like twelve people inside "C'mon and let me in!" "I'm Pee Wee Herman's little brother!" "I was on The Real World!" "I'm Lil' Bow Wow's baby's mother!" [Hook] (I can't deny myself your heaven) (Once the music starts) (I'm gonna have to dance) I'm gonna have to dance I have to dance, because I'm in L.A.! [x2] [Verse 2] Gimme a table up on the V.I.P. terrace Sarah had me sitting right next to Emmylou Harris Yo, I'm gonna hit that shit like I was Roger Maris Then fuck Nicky Hilton just to leave Paris embarrassed There's tons of Playmates and chicks who do porn And girls who think it's cool to fuck Jack Osbourne And every Playmate's on her arm, some old tool Who walks up to DJ AM to request Ja Rule So he can seem younger but come off a lot dumber He buys her tons of drinks and leaves with fake phone numbers Go ahead and buy Cristal, but my advice is don't bother Just take an empty bottle and fill that shit with water It doesn't make you hotter and you ain't gotta pay Save the hundred bucks for overpriced valet And those guys who get autographs to sell on eBay And dumb model bitches who pretend they DJs And those kids who sell candy are always hawking shit And if you drunk enough, you might buy some sausages There's tons of musicians I'd probably want to fight But pop stars have bodyguards that look like Suge Knight So I sit alone, horny, not important Dream about Tara Reid, or banging Natalie Portman But hey, I see celebrities, I don't really care I grew up a- HEY, IS THAT GWYNETH OVER THERE?! [Hook] [Verse 3] A.D., Joe Sips, and The Lounge we all go But we quit Las Palmas cause it got too ghetto Yo, and once they get old we find new places With even longer lines filled with the same faces It's a revolving door: get out, come in L.A. nightlife: ain't it something? Hey, I'm still in line, I'm done with this fight I hate these clubs... but I'll see you tomorrow night [Hook repeats]