Getting The Flags Out

I had my trust.
It was kept in the drunk of my bimmer
Because my pride needed the leg room;
It was time to kick some ass,
And the perpetually slow passing on the 110 from the 5
Was a sign the city's blood was slow in transit, but alive.
Cut me open and I'll show you what's inside:
A fire and a riot without the stolen cab.
And tonight the night streaks purple and gold,
Now the colors that guide birds back to their nests,
Back to the best feeling we knew we had coming.
We are L.A., this is what we deserve!
A championship won,
An ego preserved.