South Coast

Lyrics

[Verse 1: Stat Quo] Uh, look at him, pimp, boss hug bruh Grown man shit, if it's drama we handle it From Atlanta, home of hammers Lotta folk that's scandalous To skate off like dancers Beat yo face to the canvas (My bruh) Knuckle up, punk, pop the trunk, cock and dump Body slumped, it's hard punk, sugar water, shawty crunk Fuckin' with mine will get you stomped Ride on my enemies crush my comp Leave their bodies covered with lumps Givin' them what they don't really want And that's the hay-maker, south coast jaw breaker Talkin' that yin-yang when you shook like a salt shaker The haters, undertaker, wishin' death on jealous fakers Mad cause I'm gettin' paper, mad to see I'm flyin', niggas Stat Quo (GMM), know the name buddy We have assembled an empire, and they're damn muddy (Hah) Ride clean, down the strip sippin' prime bubbly My mind on my grip, representin' the damn dirty [Chorus: Stat Quo] This be that south coast shit And you better go forfeit, give a fuck who you go get (GMM) Cause we be that grown man gang And we totin' big things All my partners got good aim (G-Unit) This be that south coast shit And you better go forfeit, give a fuck who you go get (GMM) Cause we be that grown man gang And we totin' big things All my partners got good aim (G-Unit) [Verse 2: Young Buck] Something keep telling me (what) Buck gon' catch a felony (damn) I shouldn't have to weigh up what you selling me But getting steel Niggas holla keep it real We gon' stab you in your back But I ain't fearing nothing here (nah) I'll grab you and your gat I'm the platinum in your plack I'm the coke that's in your pack I heard them niggas hit you up I'm them bullets in your back Reach behind them walls All I got is some banana clips 50 keep on telling me "nah" But I'm gon' handle this They love me in Los Angeles The dirty south streets know That Buck been buck wild Got 'em bucking on that east coast Cock it back and pop it twice Cook the crack, watch for the vice Play it cool and pay his price Set him up and take his life That's why we dirty dirty Niggas don't mind breaking bread Mama gave us soul food Daddy taught us how to bust heads So come on down to this town full of outlaws We got the police scared to even answer house calls [Chorus: Stat Quo] This be that south coast shit And you better go forfeit, give a fuck who you go get (GMM) Cause we be that grown man gang And we totin' big things All my partners got good aim (G-Unit) This be that south coast shit And you better go forfeit, give a fuck who you go get (GMM) Cause we be that grown man gang And we totin' big things All my partners got good aim (G-Unit)