Busta Rhymes - East Coast Remix Lyrics
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East Coast Remix
East Coast Remix Lyrics |
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What Are The Lyrics For East Coast Remix By Busta Rhymes?
Run it up, run it up, run it up, run it up (remix)
F*ck that shit, we get turnt 'til the sun is up All of you niggas get burnt when the gun is up This that East Coast motherfucker Call me Mr. East Coast motherfucker (let me give them a friendly reminder real quick, yo) Y'all already know that I don't gotta talk Every single time I come you niggas know I gotta do it Yes I gotta do it and I gotta kill 'em and I gotta hit 'em Yes you know a nigga gotta beat 'em stupid Only got forty-one seconds just to give a nigga shit Every second bitch I gotta use it Some wet a nigga bluer and I cannot Grab the microphone and I make a motherfucker lose it And I make niggas jump and I back niggas up She in the back of the truck Lil' mommy wanna f*ck and she really wanna suck When I finish with it then we go in the back of the club And we do this shit again my nigga pronto Bip-de-boo-da-badda-beat it like a bongo Banging on the pussy like a nigga named Alonzo Head game crazy, that nigga the head honcho Mad because I took his bitch and now he think he macho? Somebody better call the cops, yo 'Fore we run up the side that niggas little condo Put him in a box so the nigga in a cargo (cargo, cargo) Shut a nigga down (fake bitch) Throw a bottle at ya, shut a nigga mouth (break shit) Come and follow me, stand up on the couch (shake shit) Let us wallow, niggas know we're in the house East Coast! (Nigga) 10031 is where my zip is Livin how I live up in the trenches Run through a bodega like I ain't got riches Run through a bodega like I ain't got (come on) Don't do it for the haters, I do it for the bitches My flow Al-Qaeda, I kill rap niggas Ya'll now and later and sweet ass-niggas Soon as you get famous, they wanna ass-kiss Only thing that I'm missing is Hov verse (JAY-Z) I get a feeling, they want the old Ferg "Cocaine Castle", "Hood Pope" Ferg Got a question to ask, do you know Ferg? Do you know that I come from where the toast burn? New York, New York, I run for dirt On Hungry Ham up on the corner Fiends taste the lean, they never sober For being in the streets to run a culture I never been in the weave, I had hoes, brah Who's that jiggy motherfucker with the clothes, brah? I'm finna kill these motherfuckers with the flow, brah I'm the best in the game with the flow, brah In New York I Milly Rock to Magnolia I love the East but shoutout to every coast, brah South to North and even West Coast, brah Blackin' like I'm fresh out up out retirement My flow still monumental Mental, couldn't ride an instrumental but they ridin' dick I set the standard for requirements, so call the firemen Just me, myself and I, the world is mine, I put the "I" in his His posse too clean, his diamonds like tip His skin too clear, his bitch gon' stare So mind your biz, how they find the time for mindin' mine I find these college chicks for top with Kylie's lips Oh my, oh my (running) Running, running like you want it (running) Running, running like you stole it (running) Running, running like I'm going (woo) Running, pitching like I'm bowling (woo) In my city gangs run the inner city Load a semi for the Chiddy Bang Flacko, Fergie, Frenchie with the bitties Hit up Remy for the pretty gang Lately I feel like a Beatle I'm Paulie McCartney just rocking Moschino Moscato or Pinot I got some bitches to hop in the Regal, phenomenal deep throat I'm more Ali than Muhammad My noodles was Ramen, go Google my diamonds I got some shooters in college I feel like a coach, I'm recruiting and signing Look, I still be moving in silence I'm ballin' in blue like I'm hooping in Dallas Bitch I don't play for no Mavericks You need to think who gon' pay for your casket Ignorant bastard But I'm still conscious enough to give hope to the masses Watch the coke do gymnastics Dominique Hawkins, foreign my car when I'm mashin' Chain busting it down, wrist busting it down Your bitch busting it down, game up fucking it now I could be a jeweler, neck like slick the ruler You niggas is comedy, talking fast like Bone Thugs-N-Harmony KRS-one, Big L flows Son of a gun with the Buffalo Head on my wrist is a P1 Made more money than E1 One time Chinx, two time Yams (Yams) Get the money slide like a violin You know my nigga Max almost home You know we run the East Coast zone nigga In the kitchen culinary, I could whip a Bloody Mary And I wish that blood did dent me, I'mma get your brother burried Gangbanging with your halo, business on the payphone Bitches pussies drying up, like Taz's Angels Never was a client, 'cause that boy ain't buying it And I got a bottom bitch, my top come on consignment Step up from the minor league, double M the dynasty No I never sold dope, I just got me a finder's fee Following my frequency, niggas rapping week to week Suckers be so weak to me, text but don't speak to me You can never speak for me, see the B.I. Chemistry Check into the crazy house, I'mma turn the labels out Run it up, run it up, run it up, run it up Run it up, run it up, run it up, run it up (remix) F*ck that shit, we get turnt 'til the sun is up All of you niggas get burnt when the gun is up This that East Coast motherfucker But I know this West Coast (Snoop Dogg) 10-20 was my date of birth, the day I came to Earth Bottles sipping, love the Burt, young nigga that's doing dirt Long Beach across my shirt, all y'all niggas gon' get merked What the f*ck is you talking 'bout? Me and Ferg, we gon' put in work Bang on ya' gang culture, out of this world It's all on a bitch, is she a Blood? Is she a Crip? Don't slip, think not, on the block where it's hot Legalize with the nines, give a f*ck about a cop Real shit, this is it, from the bottom to the Bay This is anybody K, California all day Yessir, on the curb, Mossberg by the band Little homies on the roof with the blam-blam-blam Long Beach, popping pill on 'em I been working so hard, nigga get your bale on I been working so hard, niggas put the sales on I been working so hard, welcome to the hellzone, zone See I'm from Long Beach Run it up, run it up, run it up, run it up Run it up, run it up, run it up, run it up (remix) F*ck that shit, we get turnt 'til the sun is up All of you niggas get burnt when the gun is up Long Beach, This that East Coast motherfucker (California motherfucker) (Long Beach) Call me Mr. East Coast motherfucker (West Coast) |
Who Wrote East Coast Remix By Busta Rhymes?
Darold Brown, Calvin Broadus, William Roberts, David Brewster, Jr., Trevor George Smith Jr., Khalil Rahman, Sam Barsh, Altariq Crapps, Karim Kharbouch, Rakim Mayers
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