West Coast, Gulf Coast, East Coast Lyrics - Power Moves - South Park

Now these West Coast players and we love to ball... 

And these Gulf Coast Hustlers love to do it all... 

Chorus: 

And them East Coast killas ought to represent 

And when we ride together we're gonna kill some shit... 

[Verse 1] 

I got my mind made up, I'm strapped and I'm riddin high 

West Side till I die, money multiplied 

Gulf Coast in a hurry cadillacs and gold jewlery 

Down and dirty hooked up with my phones 

And we blow big candy cane 

Playa hattin dirty Mex don't understand tha game 

I can't do it cause I'm all about my money man 

Baby beach, baby beth, latino's if ever do you gang bang 

Hoggin and doggin cheddar cheese full of scratch 

And got them super fly fish tags full of tash 

That's how we do it, hustle fluit runnin through my veins 

I got soldiers that'll dump for a little change... 

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Ring around the police, pockets full of hoezies 

[Carlos Coy] 

Swingin n swervin jealous man's burden 

It's the wizard tha 36 ozies 

Hoe's see my ride and wanna say they a virgin 

20 inch turnin keep they heart hurtin 

H-town city slicker, buy my German 

Sippin' on bourban, back woods a burnin' 

Back in the days I couldn't get one wordin 

Now I park valet wit boys outta Cali 

Playas on pro's like the mother fuckin valley 

If you were me, u'd be surrounded by security 

Dope House, known for our purity 

(Chorus) 

Photos 

[Verse 2] 

Yeah, these west coast riders with the down south G's 

Take Keys break 'em down the o's and p's 

17 shots pulled back an squeeze 

And I'll ball like a mother fuckin' C-fee toe 

Down with the click, I'm Baby Beesh 

I'm laced in this bitch like PCP, with SPM, and LOW-G 

I'ma grind in L.A. 'til my very last day 

and I'm a Hillwood Hustla 'til I die motherfucker 

It's a struggle but I gotta bubble baby, please believe it 

And like I said big frost is a hard act to follow... 

I guess that's the reason I roll with my rival 

[3rd verse - Rasheed] 

It's the - Philly Alumni 

on the drum I, come I 

wit the type of funk that make a sucka cry 

I ain't gon' lie, 

but he need no paper to fly 

gettin' sick, wit Salty Waters' Lifestyl livin' life-a 

my organization down wit World Wide Hustlaz 

the homie force that's gon' hop up on the plane 

seize, that Baby Beesh without the west coast mary jane 

on the east coast, they're going whacko for that stack of paper 

on the South Side, they run wit slangaz and they stack that paper 

we screamin' YAAY YAAY 

wit the baskets full of blaze 

like Universal comin' wit Def Jam 

cashin' in the money, 

South Park Mexican and Rasheed makin' power moves ev-ery day 

and do a hater we gon' have to... 

(Chorus x2) 

[Low G] 

I feel it get crunk and take control like Janet 

It's yo boy Low G from the center of the planet 

When you hear the hit, what show you gonna jam in 

Can't hang with the bandit, haters can't stand it 

Recommended a mendez, ta win dis 

The Menace most worse that Dennis 

Mmmmm, Me entiendes? Raches apendes 

Remember me Low-G from the block of rock 

Second war with the nine millemeter glock 

Keep it endless, stayin friendless 

Cali flex the next 

Kid Frost, Baby Beesh, Rasheed and the South Park Mex... 

(Chorus x2