South Coast

Stat Quo, Young Buck

[Verse 1: Stat Quo]
Uh, look at him, pimp, balls out bruh
Grown man shit, if it's drama we handle it
From Atlanta, home of hammers
Lotta folk that's scandalous
[?] beat yo face to the canvas (My bruh)
Knuckle up, punk, pop the trunk, cock and dump
Ridin' slump, it's hard punk, sugar water, shawty crunk
Fuckin' with mine will get you stomped
Ride on my enemies crush my comp
Leave their bodies covered with lumps
Givin' them what they don't really want
And that's the hay-maker, south coast jaw breaker
Talkin' that yin-yang when you shook like a salt shaker
The haters, undertaker, wishin' death on jealous fakers
Mad cause I'm gettin' paper, mad to see I'm flyin', niggas
Stat Quo (GMM), know the name buddy
We have assembled an empire, and they're damn muddy (Hah)
Ride clean, down the strip sippin' prime bubbly
My mind on my grip, representin' the damn dirty

[Chorus: Stat Quo]
This be that south coast shit
And you better go figure, but fuck who you go get (GMM)
Cause we be that grown man gang
And we totin' big things
All my partners got good aim (G-Unit)
This be that south coast shit
And you better go figure, but fuck who you go get (GMM)
Cause we be that grown man gang
And we totin' big things
All my partners got good aim (G-Unit)

[Verse 2: Young Buck]
Something keep telling me
Buck gon' catch a felony
I shouldn't have to weigh up what you selling me
But [?]
Niggas holla keep it real
We gon' stab you in your back
But I ain't fearing nothing here
I'll grab you and your gat
I'm the platinum in your plack
I'm the coke that's in your pack
I heard them niggas hit you up
I'm them bullets in your back
Reach behind them walls
All I got is some bananas clips
50 keep on telling me "nah"
But I'm gon' handle this
They love me in Los Angeles
The dirty south streets know
That Buck been buck wild
Got 'em bucking on that east coast
Cock it back and pop it twice
Cook the crack, watch for the vice
Play it cool and pay his price
Set him up and take his life
That's why we dirty dirty
Niggas don't mind breaking bread
Mama gave us soul food
Daddy tought us how to bust heads
So come on down to this town full of outlaws
We got the police scared to even answer house calls

[Chorus: Stat Quo]
This be that south coast shit
And you better go figure, but fuck who you go get (GMM)
Cause we be that grown man gang
And we totin' big things
All my partners got good aim (G-Unit)
This be that south coast shit
And you better go figure, but fuck who you go get (GMM)
Cause we be that grown man gang
And we totin' big things
All my partners got good aim (G-Unit)

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