A$AP Ferg – East Coast (Remix) Lyrics ft. Snoop Dogg, Rick Ross, French Montana, Dave East, A$AP Rocky & Busta Rhymes
[Intro: A$AP Ferg & Busta Rhymes]
Run it up, run it up, run it up, run it up (remix)
Fuck that shit, we get turnt ’til the sun is up
All of you niggas get burnt when the gun is up
This that East Coast motherfucker
Call me Mr. East Coast motherfucker
Let me give them a friendly reminder real quick, yo
[Verse 1: Busta Rhymes]
Y’all already know the god gotta talk
Every single time I come you niggas know I gotta do it
Yes I gotta do it and I gotta kill em and I gotta hit em
Yes you know a nigga gotta beat em stupid
Only got 41 seconds just to give a nigga shit
Every second bitch I gotta use it
Some wack, a nigga blew it and I cannot
Grab the microphone and not make a motherfucker lose it
And I make niggas jump in the back
Niggas up, she in the back of the truck
Lil’ mommy wanna fuck and she really wanna suck
When I finish with it then we go in the back of the club
And we do this shit again my nigga, pronto
Bip-de-badda-de-booda-de-beat it like a bongo
Banging on the pussy like a nigga named Alonzo
Head game crazy, that make her the head honcho
Mad cause I took his bitch and now he thinks he macho?
Somebody better call the cops yo
‘Fore we run up inside of that nigga’s lil’ condo
Put him in a box so the nigga in a cargo (cargo, cargo)
Shut a nigga down (fake bitch)
Throw a bottle at ya, shut a nigga mouth (break shit)
Come and follow me, stand up on the couch (shake shit)
Let us wallow, niggas know we’re in the house (trey fifth)
East Coast nigga!
[Verse 2: A$AP Ferg]
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
Y’all Now and Laters, 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
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[Verse 3: A$AP Rocky]
Blackin’ like I’m fresh out from retirement
My flow still monumental
Mental, couldn’t ride an instrumental but they ridin’ dick
I set the standards 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 minding 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
[Verse 4: Dave East]
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 Dawes, foreign my car when I’m mashin’
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[Verse 5: French Montana]
Chain busting it down, wrist busting it down
Your bitch busting it down, rap game up fucking it now
I could be a jeweler, neck on 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
[Verse 6: Rick Ross]
In the kitchen culinary, I could whip a Bloody Mary
And I wish that blood would dead me, I’ma 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’ma turn the labels out
[Hook: A$AP Ferg]
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)
Fuck 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)
[Verse 7: Snoop Dogg]
10-20 was my date of birth, the day I came to Earth
Bottles sipping, love to burp, young nigga that’s doing dirt
Long Beach across my shirt, all y’all niggas gon’ get merked
What the fuck 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 fuck about a cop
Real shit, this is it, from the bottom to the Bay
This is anybody K, California all day
Yes-sir, 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, nigga, work to sell somethin’
I been working so hard, welcome to the hellzone, zone, zone
See I’m from Long Beach
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[Hook: A$AP Ferg & Snoop Dogg]
Run it up, run it up, run it up, run it up
Run it up, run it up, run it up, run it up (remix)
See I’m from Long Beach
Fuck that shit, we get turnt ’til the sun is up
All of you niggas get burnt when the gun is up
See I’m from Long Beach
This that East Coast motherfucker
California motherfucker, see I’m from Long Beach
Call me Mr. East Coast motherfucker
West Coast
A$AP Ferg – East Coast (Remix) Lyrics ft. Snoop Dogg, Rick Ross, French Montana, Dave East, A$AP Rocky & Busta Rhymes
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