Z-Ro - 3rd Coast lyrics
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(*talking*) Yeah sup Ro sup Grace, it's your boy Den Den To jump on this track with you boys, you know I'm tal'n bout It's all about the 3rd baby 3rd coast, yeah I got this [Den Den] See I'm mentally ready, fuck those is testing me Progress is so sweet, ain't tripping with envy Slip and slide like a snake, vibrate the world like a quake Mashing hard on the gas, with 3rd Coast on the plate Roll on cowards and busters, peeping them soldiers and hustlers Got an eye for them fuckers, that trying P.H. with snorkels Got a trunk full of clutches, blinding mine make you stutter I blow like a hurricane, so close all your shutters See I wants everything, and everything I'm gone have Roll out my red carpet, just to go to my stash Third coast, blinding and shining like a brand new slab On my birthday, I'm throwing me a fortune life bash [Hook] If you living shife, don't fuck with 3rd Coast These niggaz can't fade 3rd Coast, these niggaz can't fade 3rd Coast You could lose your life, don't fuck with 3rd Coast These niggaz can't fade 3rd Coast, these niggaz can't fade 3rd Coast [Grace] This how we ride in 3rd, po' up syrup blow herb From lane to lane we grip the grain, and 20's chop up the curb We popping flippers on sippers, 3rd Coast g's on the rise With bubble eyes and customized, and chrome be 20 inches wide Entertainment center be lit up, and all the trunks gone lift up Button rims they rip up, down talkers mouths gone zip up It's that time and here we come, 3rd Coast take a stand We drew it up and screwed them up, proceeded through with the plan Jumped in the mix with hundred bricks, and now a mobbing gorilla Unanimous go-getter, about the scrilla my nigga Stay loaded up and we ready, Box City working that jelly Burning more streets than Perelli, while cutting up like machetes No doubt screwed up candy paint, killer think straight drink Down here we swinging the tank, and every thought be bout bank I'ma be T from the S.U.C., pay dues got stripes that be ranks That boy G-R-A-C-E, 3rd Coast born caught off game [Hook - 2x] 3rd Coast, don't fuck with 3rd Coast These niggaz can't fade 3rd Coast, these niggaz can't fade 3rd Coast [Z-Ro] I done took a lot of losses, now it's time to win No more signing dotted lines, and I stay dollars spend I want convertible Benz, with the blue bubble lens I'm worth a million off the corner, when I'm pimping my pen Blue over gray is my choice, pearl white Rolls Royce Don't need no natural lemon tea, I don't be training my voice I'm signed thoed by nature, suckers, punchers, simps and fakers A click full of back breakers, and more in a Studebaker The Mo City Don, I wave a truck like it's a wand Hit the ATM machine, ain't no need for me to pawn Cause I'm paid, my game sharper than a razor blade Bald faded and X-rated, the Gucci's is tailor made I bubble in the sauna, as I smoke marijuana From Daytona to Arizona, no longer on the corner World wide, I gotta keep the dream alive Tupac and Biggie done died, so now they ready for the Southside Top dropping, body rocking like Fat Pat Dirty rats get splat, when I pull out my black Mack Cause it's over, the fat lady done sung the song From California to Rome, these hoes pussies stay warm And on to the Alamo Dome, then right back home Ain't no regular we hydro'd, as 4-54 On the po's, be spinning flipping with yellow boned women Swimming in divid-ends, cause I'm cold with my pimping [Hook] If you living shife, don't fuck with 3rd Coast These niggaz can't fade 3rd Coast, these niggaz can't fade 3rd Coast You could lose your life, don't fuck with 3rd Coast These niggaz can't fade 3rd Coast, these niggaz can't fade 3rd Coast
