Coast 2 Coast

E.S.G.

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    [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]

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    [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

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