Bun B - Coast to Coast Gangstas lyrics

[Sauce Money] (*Laughing*) Brooklyn This is the set-off Kay Sleezy Take it to the streets n***a Word up Sauce Money Uh, uh Proper set-off Don't get it f**ed up cuz Sauce calm wit his grandma Cuz I'm like baking soda b**h, I'm armed with a hammer And when I'm strapped fool, f** your brother Cuz like Jimmy Ivene in Virginia you in the scope like a muthaf**a Fine, n***as don't wanna let him shine n***as hate that fact Sauce don't give a f**in' 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 n***as fo sho You betta know I'm a true n***a, please do n***a Betta inquire from a few n***as Cuz b**h, I done sh** on quite a few and quieted a few n***as Get a grip, dead four-fifth in the hip Slip, never picture me fallin' n***a don't trip [k**er Mike] Stoned is the way of my walk In a mini-mack eleven, the tone when I talk When I spray n***as 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' sh**tin' in a bag and a breath away from dyin' n***a 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 k**er k** from Addamsville with a hot Glock Blaaat! [Bun B] They say murder is the case they wanna throw me I guess these muthaf**as don't know me O.G. rock called a yay slanger PA's finest Underground muthaf**in' king call me "Your Highness" I tear your sinus with this gun powder Wipe your tears with the steal, no fear this is real n***as 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 f**in' clearance to peel Or shortstoppers runnin' and the fear is revealed So - get off this block homie handle your corner Keep all your h**n, rocks and you mariju-wana I'm like a - character on the Sopranos or the Wire You'se a - big p**y lil' man, it's over, retire Cuz the - clock's tickin', your days is done But we know all them lil' different f**in' 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 b**h, I pull a sawed-off from under the waist Open your eyes muthaf**a, you got thunder to face f** rest, we gon' lay these muthaf**as to waste You bit the pully n***a tell me, how the f** 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 muthaf**in' 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 n***a 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 b**h n***as wanna sing with this I stay on the trigger, cuz lames hate me n***a They can't pay me n***a, where my lay dates n***a 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 k** 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 n***as slowly hatin' on Joey so amazin' And hood n***as knowin' what up Either holdin' you down or holdin' you up, throwin' it up Oh! [Hak Ditty] Aiiyo, f** the dumb sh**, when the guns spit One clip'll have your whole strip laid down Thirty-two shots to your block, I had that sh** 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 co*ks**ers 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 n***as got a problem this year (*Gunshots*)