Alarm-fire (Coast Guard)2

歌詞

[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