South Park Mexican, Low-G, Baby Bash, Rasheed, OG Kid Frost - West Coast, Gulf Coast, East Coast lyrics

Ask these west coast players
And we love to ball

And these gulf coast hustlers love
To do it all

And them east coast killers
Ought to represent
And when we ride together
We gon' kill some shit

I got my mind made up
I'm strapped and I'm ridin' high
West side til I die, money multiply
Down and dirty hooked up with my folks
Gulf coast in a hurry
Cadillacs and gold jewelery
And we blow big candy cane
Playa hatin' dirty Mex don't
Understand the game
Baby Beesh, Baby Bash, Latino Velvet
Do you gang bang
I can't do it, cause I'm all about my money
Mayne hoggin' and doggin'
Cheddar cheese, scrilla, scratch
And got them super fly pimp tags to attach
That's how we do it
Hustle fluid runnin' through my veins
I got soldiers that'll dump
For a little change

Ring around the police
Pocket full of ho-zies
It's The Wizard, of thirty-six O-Z's
Swingin' and swervin', jealous man's burden
Hoes see my ride and wanna say they a virgin
20 inch turnin', keep they heart hurtin'
H-town City Slicker, but my ride German
Sippin' on bourbon, back woods a-burnin'
Back in the days, I couldn't get one word in
Now I park valet, with boys outta Cali
Players on toes like the motherfuckin' valley
If you were me
You'd be surrounded by security
Dope House, known for our purity

It's that west coast
Rider with them down south G's (Rider)
Seventeen shots, pull back and squeeze
(Pop, pop) take ki's
Break 'em down to O's or P's, and I'll ball
Like I'm motherfuckin' ten feet tall
I'm laced in this bitch like PCP
With SPM and little Low G
Down with the clika, Baby Beesh
And I'm a Hillwood
Hustle til I die, motherfucker i'm a grind
In LA til my very last day
(Til my very last day) it's a struggle
But, I gotta bubble, baby, please, believe it
I guess
That's the reason I roll with my rival
And like I said
"Big Frost's a hard act to follow"

It's the philly Alumni
On the drum, I come out
With the type of
Funk that'll make a sucker cry
But he need no paper to fly ain't no lie
My organization down with worldwide hustlers
Gettin' sick with the soldiers for that
Lifestyle livin' liver the homie Frost
Don Cisco hopped up on the plane sheeze
That Baby Beesh pulled out the
West coast mary jane on the east coast
They gone and act up for that stack of paper
On the south side, they run with swangers
And they stackin' paper
We screaming, "Yay yay!"
We done blazin' from the maze
South Park Mexican and Rasheed makin'
Power moves every day cash and that Money
Like Universal comin' with Def Jams
If you a hater, we don't hear ya, haters

It's your boy Low G
From the center of the planet i feel it
Get crunk and take Control like Janet
When you hear the hit
For shit, you gonna jam
Can't hang with the bandit
Haters can't stand it recommended
I'm in this, to win this the Menace
Most worse that Dennis mmm
Me entiendes raches apendes
Remember me, Low G, from the Block Of Rock
Second Ward with the nine millimeter Glock
Keep it endless stayin' friendless
Cali Tex connect kid Frost, Baby Beesh
Rasheed and the South Park Mex