DJ KAYSLAY - Coast To Coast Gangstas lyrics

rate me

(feat. Bun B, Hak Ditty, Joe Buddens, Killer Mike, Sauce )

[Sauce Money]

[Laughing] Brooklyn

This is the set-off

Kay Sleezy

Take it to the streets nigga

Word up

Sauce Money

Uh, uh

Proper set-off

Don't get it fucked up cuz Sauce calm wit his grandma

Cuz I'm like baking soda bitch, I'm armed with a hammer

And when I'm strapped fool, fuck your brother

Cuz like Jimmy Ivene in Virginia you in the scope like a muthafucka

Fine, niggas don't wanna let him shine

Niggas hate that fact Sauce don't give a fuckin' nine

Soon as he ran his mouth, one tre pound seven to nine

Guess who's the odd man out

I guess we got something in common

I'm just a little more calm when

I'm about to split your arm in

Put a hole so big in your noggin

That if you God body, you can fit the whole sun, moon and star in

You starvin' for more lyrics I know

Steady robbin' all them lyrics I flow

I'm Sadam-ing all you niggas fo sho

You betta know I'm a true nigga, please do nigga

Betta inquire from a few niggas

Cuz bitch, I done shit on quite a few and quieted a few niggas

Get a grip, dead four-fifth in the hip

Slip, never picture me fallin' nigga don't trip

[Killer Mike]

Stoned is the way of my walk

In a mini-mack eleven, the tone when I talk

When I spray niggas pray, lay on the sidewalk

Color blood red, body outlined in chalk

My rhymes, two zigs all nines

Hard hit when they spit, split wigs double time

This eightball's a strict nine

Tear apart body parts when I spark nine

At they head hard lodged in they damn spine

Leaves emcee's like Christopher Reeves, crippled and cryin'

Shittin' in a bag and a breath away from dyin'

Nigga I'm - the epitomy of raw rhymes

The epitomy of rap rock

I make a block party bop to the sounds of a hot glock

From New York down to Georgia it don't stop

Killer Kill from Addamsville with a hot glock

Blaaat!

[Bun B]

They say murder is the case they wanna throw me

I guess these muthafuckas don't know me

O.G. rock called a yay slanger

VA's finest

Underground muthafuckin' king call me "Your Highness"

I tear your sinus with this gun powder

Wipe your tears with the steal, no fear this is real niggas

Here is the deal: you clear in this field

And ain't stoppin' until every hater here is revealed

Cuz we don't need no fuckin' clearance to peel

Or shortstoppers runnin' and the fear is revealed

So - get off this block homie handle your corner

Keep all your heroin, rocks and you mariju-wana

I'm like a - character on the Sopranos or the Wire

You'se a - big pussy lil' man, it's over, retire

Cuz the - clock's tickin', your days is done

But we know all them lil' different fuckin' ways you slum

But it's trill downtown, your momma's all free

Your house is sugar-layin' with your wife and your seed

Yes indeed, Big Bun is on a home invasion

You gon' bleed on my gun from your dome abrasions

Cuz my chrome is blazin', I'm naughty crunk

Got the bop gun like Sir Nose D'Voiddoffunk

Bitch, I pull a sawed-off from under the waist

Open your eyes muthafucka, you got thunder to face

Fuck rest, we gon' lay these muthafuckas to waste

You bit the pully nigga tell me, how the fuck did it taste

From my gun...

Big guns, big power

M. Woods, sixth hour

Berettas, Tauruses, Rugers

Smith and Wesson's, glocks and lugers

AK's, AR 15's

Mack elevens and M-16's

High caliber, so why try it?

You live by it, so you die by it

A muthafuckin' gun...

[WC]

Who's the man with the strap in his hand

Homie's stolen semi-autos and contrabands

All day every day, crossin' my hood in day

In a six-trey with my nigga Kay Slay

Dub the law scan, the infrared scanner

Hangin' out the window, hittin' em up with the bandana

And I can't stand a snitch so I - clean the lid

Just in case them bitch niggas wanna sing with this

I stay on the trigger, cuz lames hate me nigga

They can't pay me nigga, where my lay dates nigga

Where AK one-on-one so thirty shot

Nine millimeter Melindas aimed ready to send ya

So put your can on your vest like a Bible and pray slowly

Cuz this'll leave your teflon holey

With the forty glock ready to ring, bring the trauma to the scene

It's the Ghetto Heisman and the Drama King

[Joe Buddens]

It's about that time nine-milli clappin'

Dude, what's really crackin'?

I been gettin' it since 'Paid In Full' was really happenin'

I gotta do it like that to keep my street name

And pride made me kill Wayne Growe when the heat came

I don't smut but stimulation is good

I keep the hammer with me, Joey's renovatin' the hood

Difference between us, I'm gettin' loot on tours

Good shoes on the Beem, you got a boot on yours

Dudes with no names wanna put an end to me

But doggs, I'm readin' between the lines, the whole game's in parenthesis

Talk about models and how you with somethin'

When you really shootin' air balls, you ain't hittin' nothin'

Nathan, through the strip, O.G.'s blazin'

Street niggas slowly hatin' on Joey so amazin'

And hood niggas knowin' what up

Either holdin' you down or holdin' you up, throwin' it up

Oh!

[Hak Ditty]

Aiiyo, fuck the dumb shit, when the guns spit

One clip'll have your whole strip laid down

Thirty-two shots to your block, I had that shit caged down

And before you blink, I let off eight rounds

This the ro-yal I ain't playin'

I'm takin' this over, so y'all either layin' or dying

And I won't hesitate to blaze the iron

You cocksuckers is chillin' with a ragin' lion

I see them dudes every day, when I'm racin' by 'em

Or on the curb poppin' bottles while they hatin' and eyein'

Uh, whether the slider or the highrider

I keep my block rocker, glock under the blue dosser

Far as Philly, it's no question to who's liver

I'm hotter, Hak Ditty, block locker

Fully prepared

I hope y'all fully aware that y'all niggas got a problem this year

[Gunshots]