Eastwood - West Coast Fire lyrics

Published

0 166 0

Eastwood - West Coast Fire lyrics

[Intro] Yeah Los Angeles, California (f** y'all n***as) You now rockin' with the West Stacey Adams, ha ha Kurupt Young Gotti, Eastwood d**h Row, through it all, n***a Smashin' on you bustas, for the 'double 0-4 Yeah, I see you, what up homie? You know what time it is - let me do it to 'em [Stacey Adams] n***as hate me, f** 'em though, I'm hot like a sauna n***as talkin' sh**, get prepared for the - karma Thirty shot clip, hollow tip's, and a - warmer '61 Chevy, chrome D's bend a - corner Watch your back when you come to Cali-fornia This the first and the last time I'm gon' - warn ya I see you n***as gettin' scared, my gun go 'pop' Motherf**ers know I'm aimin' for the head - yeah You motherf**ers actin' like - us Stacey got the whole spot packed full of - Bloods Growin' purple with the yak in they - cups Stacey and Kurupt 'bout to go platinum - plus You don't wanna get your boy smacked - up Blue and red rags in the club, that's - us I'm from the Eastside Pacoma, run up on you Motherf**er put your hands up, turn yo' a** around I'm in the lab with the big homie - Keeter Smash out, beat 12's like - 'see ya' Twenty G's when I swipe the platinum - Visa Black Angels cap, all black - Fila's Spittin' hot like the boy got the - fever I got the shank, Eastwood got the - heater I got a pocket full of big faced - bills Twenty G's with your b**h a** - sk** [Eastwood] I'll step in the party, I got my own dank Own drank, own bank, Bentley Phantom, full tank My persona is top rank - when my heart feel shank So I keep a automatic weapon, goin' hard in the paint You n***as ain't right Go soft on a b**h, I'll make some tricks So break bread or fake dead, we the gang b**h, uh Let's get it crackin' homie, show me your game face I'll put a n***a in his place, see what the game rate Sixteen balls of fire, it's hot lava With thirty-two balls of heat, I'm on fire I like them bad hoes in the wife - beaters I only roll with the O.G. - Keeter We in the black Lambourgini, two - seater Strapped up with two cannons, some know 'em as heaters Original gustapo, d**h Row's the label So catch a fare when I get jumped like cables [Kurupt] Elastic, little plastic imitations And drastic tactics for blastin', clappin', snappin' n***a I like a b**h in a bomb wife - beater I'll roll the streets with my O.G. - Keeter Straight Crippin' in a blue two - seater If you gotta be the b**h, you don't - need her All hood n***a, neighborhood - Rollin' See faulty and the homies start - foldin' Everything in the vicinity from - Rollin' I've been runnin' sh** since the '9 - fever Keeter gunnin' sh** with the 'fo - fever I humped up the sh** quick with the - nina Lisa Left Eye changed her name to - N.I.N.A One hit record, I'mma f** - Trina Stacey Adams in a all red Phantom Cla**ic interaction from the nickel's and mack's Elastic, little plastic imitations And drastic tactics from blastin' and clappin', snappin' Seattle Mariners hat to the left, not the back I'mma curse, with a paltered verse of words Seperate the whole formula first Second, I'll leave n***as in a coma I'm Gotti Adolf Hitler, n***a - boa You ain't gon' show the b**h, let me - show her [Hook: Keith Roc] We some riders, up in here This straight West Coast, we spit fire We some riders, up in here This straight West Coast, we spit fire We some riders, up in here This straight West Coast, we spit fire We some riders, up in here This straight West Coast, we spit fire