Coast 2 Coast

Lyrics

[Intro:]
 Coast to coast, L.A. to Chicago
 This song's for, those that don't got though
 It ain't bout where ya from, it's where ya at now
 Put your hands up, if you all about stacks now
 [Hook:]
 Southside, them boys be so fly now
 Westside, them G's be so high now
 Eastside, then down to Daytona
 Northside, you know they gon ride what
 [E.S.G.:]
 You know the playas down South, we like to ride drop tops
 Flip bricks, and keep the damn trunk popped
 West Coast, they keep the hydro lit
 Wear the wrong color, get your 6-4 hit quick
 Midwest, them boys be on thug shit
 20 inch daytons, on a old school Cutlass
 East Coast, they represent Burrows
 Down here, boys stay sipping purple
 Sprewell circle, never stop spinning
 Showing twenty G's, everytime I'm grinning
 H-Town D-Town, all the way to Austin
 Tell the world look at Texas, hell yeah we balling
 Can't forget the B-O-G, that's my Louisiana hood
 New Orleans Laffeyette, Lake Charles Baton Rouge
 Arkansas Alabama, Mississippi feeling flossy
 Chi-Town, ATL and Milwaukee
 [Hook x2]
 [E.S.G.:]
 When I'm in D-Town, we make the block bleed
 What's up Big B, what's up Greg Street
 Troy D, Dolby D, Billy B, G.T.
 Steve Nice, J. Tweezy, Walter Deezie
 When I'm in Shreveport, Gramlin and Monroe
 With Bay-Bay, Long John and Yo-Yo
 Grave Digger what you know, Delinare Paso
 Gripping grain with Wild Wayne, DJ Ro and Nino
 Me and Tron in the Hummer, balling for the summer
 Independent cat, putting up Outkast numbers
 St. Louis let's do it, with your country grammar
 Oklahoma, Kentucky can't forget Indiana
 I'm a cash stacker, thug slash actor
 Saw the Dirty 3rd, way up in Nebraska
 Laws roll right past us, good they missed me
 Heard them ese's love us, down in Corpus Christi
 [Hook x2]
 [E.S.G.:]
 We hit Las Vegas, fifty G's on my neck
 Hundred grand in my hand, trying to play roulette
 See we country boys, with kilos for cattle
 Tacoma owners, another sto' in Seattle
 Here we come for the sun, where them L.A. strippers
 We all young rich niggaz, like them L.A. Clippers
 Gucci on my zipper, button up on my back
 Heard that East Coast like, Cranberry with the yack
 On the West Coast, they got the best do-do
 But at the car shows, they got the best low-lows
 But what you boys know, bout promethazyne
 Slamming do's on 4's, pop trunks and screens
 We take new foreign cars, put candy paint on em
 Two fine broads, put pounds of dank on em
 Bogalusa lumber jacker, a Leprechaun slapper
 I supply the birdman, I'm the Boss holla at ya
 [Hook x2]
 [Intro]
 [talking:]
 G'eah, SES in the do' know I'm tal'n bout
 Multi-million dollar label, E.S.G.-Big Sin doing our thang
 Brandon Stacks, Carmen San' this how it's going down
 Big Craig what's up, Jun-Yo my boy Rod G
 Big Jewel C but hey, we bout to have a drink right now
 Say bartender, yeah-yeah you bartender (yes sir)
 Hey check it out, give me four bottles of Cris'
 And two of that Mo', (coming right up sir)
 And a lil' purple stuff, (can I roll with y'all) roll with us
 (I see all these fine ladies) fa sho, (these nice cars) you know
 (and all these pretty jewels) what, (say E, put a brother down man
 I pack a speaker something) hol' up (I sing a lil' bit)
 (My love have you ever seen a, Candy Coated Excursion)
 Hol' up man, you done blew my high with that gay ass shit
 I gotta call my girl Kim Coleman, g'eah

Audio Features

Song Details

Duration
04:14
Key
11
Tempo
98 BPM

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