DJ Kay Slay - Coast To Coast Gangstas Lyrics
f/ Bun B, Hak Ditty, Joe Buddens, Killer Mike, Sauce Money, WC[Sauce Money](*Laughing*) BrooklynThis is the set-offKay SleezyTake it to the streets niggaWord upSauce MoneyUh, uhProper set-offDon't get it *****ed up cuz Sauce calm wit his grandmaCuz I'm like baking soda *****, I'm armed with a hammerAnd when I'm strapped fool, ***** your brotherCuz like Jimmy Ivene in Virginia you in the scope like a mutha*****aFine, niggas don't wanna let him shineNiggas hate that fact Sauce don't give a *****in' nineSoon as he ran his mouth, one tre pound seven to nineGuess who's the odd man outI guess we got something in commonI'm just a little more calm whenI'm about to split your arm inPut a hole so big in your nogginThat if you God body, you can fit the whole sun, moon and star inYou starvin' for more lyrics I knowSteady robbin' all them lyrics I flowI'm Sadam-ing all you niggas fo shoYou betta know I'm a true nigga, please do niggaBetta inquire from a few niggasCuz *****, I done shit on quite a few and quieted a few niggasGet a grip, dead four-fifth in the hipSlip, never picture me fallin' nigga don't trip[Killer Mike]Stoned is the way of my walkIn a mini-mack eleven, the tone when I talkWhen I spray niggas pray, lay on the sidewalkColor blood red, body outlined in chalkMy rhymes, two zigs all ninesHard hit when they spit, split wigs double timeThis eightball's a strict nineTear apart body parts when I spark nineAt they head hard lodged in they damn spineLeaves 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 rhymesThe epitomy of rap rockI make a block party bop to the sounds of a hot glockFrom New York down to Georgia it don't stopKiller Kill from Addamsville with a hot glockBlaaat![Bun B]They say murder is the case they wanna throw meI guess these mutha*****as don't know meO.G. rock called a yay slangerVA's finestUnderground mutha*****in' king call me "Your Highness"I tear your sinus with this gun powderWipe your tears with the steal, no fear this is real niggasHere is the deal: you clear in this fieldAnd ain't stoppin' until every hater here is revealedCuz we don't need no *****in' clearance to peelOr shortstoppers runnin' and the fear is revealedSo - get off this block homie handle your cornerKeep all your heroin, rocks and you mariju-wanaI'm like a - character on the Sopranos or the WireYou'se a - big ***** lil' man, it's over, retireCuz the - clock's tickin', your days is doneBut we know all them lil' different *****in' ways you slumBut it's trill downtown, your momma's all freeYour house is sugar-layin' with your wife and your seedYes indeed, Big Bun is on a home invasionYou gon' bleed on my gun from your dome abrasionsCuz my chrome is blazin', I'm naughty crunkGot the bop gun like Sir Nose D'Voiddoffunk*****, I pull a sawed-off from under the waistOpen your eyes mutha*****a, you got thunder to face***** rest, we gon' lay these mutha*****as to wasteYou bit the pully nigga tell me, how the ***** did it tasteFrom my gun...Big guns, big powerM. Woods, sixth hourBerettas, Tauruses, RugersSmith and Wesson's, glocks and lugersAK's, AR 15'sMack elevens and M-16'sHigh caliber, so why try it?You live by it, so you die by itA mutha*****in' gun...[WC]Who's the man with the strap in his handHomie's stolen semi-autos and contrabandsAll day every day, crossin' my hood in dayIn a six-trey with my nigga Kay SlayDub the law scan, the infrared scannerHangin' out the window, hittin' em up with the bandanaAnd I can't stand a snitch so I - clean the lidJust in case them ***** niggas wanna sing with thisI stay on the trigger, cuz lames hate me niggaThey can't pay me nigga, where my lay dates niggaWhere AK one-on-one so thirty shotNine millimeter Melindas aimed ready to send yaSo put your can on your vest like a Bible and pray slowlyCuz this'll leave your teflon holeyWith the forty glock ready to ring, bring the trauma to the sceneIt'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 nameAnd pride made me kill Wayne Growe when the heat cameI don't smut but stimulation is goodI keep the hammer with me, Joey's renovatin' the hoodDifference between us, I'm gettin' loot on toursGood shoes on the Beem, you got a boot on yoursDudes with no names wanna put an end to meBut doggs, I'm readin' between the lines, the whole game's in parenthesisTalk 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 upEither holdin' you down or holdin' you up, throwin' it upOh![Hak Ditty]Aiiyo, ***** the dumb shit, when the guns spitOne clip'll have your whole strip laid downThirty-two shots to your block, I had that shit caged downAnd before you blink, I let off eight roundsThis the ro-yal I ain't playin'I'm takin' this over, so y'all either layin' or dyingAnd I won't hesitate to blaze the ironYou *****suckers is chillin' with a ragin' lionI see them dudes every day, when I'm racin' by 'emOr on the curb poppin' bottles while they hatin' and eyein'Uh, whether the slider or the highriderI keep my block rocker, glock under the blue dosserFar as Philly, it's no question to who's liverI'm hotter, Hak Ditty, block lockerFully preparedI hope y'all fully aware that y'all niggas got a problem this year(*Gunshots*)
