Hood Rat Shit by Coast Lyrics
I'm in the mood for some hood rat shit, some ol debauchery
Twist the broccoli, let's drive drunk and knock some beats
I'll rock your teeth down the back of your throat clown
You ain't beating me at nothing, no how
Like it's a showdown I'm coming in with guns drawn
You punks gone laying dead on your front lawn
But I'm a happy kind of guy and I like cash
I try everyday but never find it in a pint glass
I'm nice smashed, life got me by the nut sack
Bend that bitch over and I stick it in her butt crack
Listen to son rap, but you punks wack
You come around here and you get stuck like a thumbtack
I don't believe 'em when they talking all that tough shit
You 'bout to punch him in the face? Enough bitch
You wasn't tough kid, your momma gave you papers
When I didn't have no food I would go out and take it
John Doe
Cuz I was hungry matter fact I was starving
Looking like a crackhead don't even get me started
Never again call me fat boy pig body
I eat nonstop just because I can probably (that's why)
I'm doing great though, I wish you could relate bro
It's hard to explain to a mothafucker hey yo
Remember when I couldn't get these cats to play my disc
Now they listen close and be like that's my favorite shit
But my patience is got you on some thin ice
Disrespectful mothafucker don't you know I've been nice
I've been rapping since you was in the cunt brother
Hold it down son, take it in the mud cutter
That's the brown, you can blow it out your butt cheeks
I guess now pretty ladies want to fuck me
Baby suck me, like the fucking double team
And lay greasy from my piece on her double d's
John Doe
Ain't nothing sweet son I'm leaning in the caddy
Beating on the gas while I'm speeding through the valley
We out in Cali, you ain't ever been there
Screaming out the window like I'm mothafucking Rick Flair
Make a bitch stare and I hit her with a water gun
Wet her titties up, we be having all the fun
Rocking 3 retros, my room like a sneaker store
I have crack on these bitches, what I need 'em for
Got the 4's got the 5's got the 6's
I even got the press that came out before Christmas
But I don't fuck with phones, you can keep that pink bitch shit
And rocking with your skinny pants bumping Billy Danze
Rolling up a spliff kicking it with Billy Danze
Back state at Rock the Bells getting lifted
Nose like a vacuum I'm sucking up prescriptions
I get busy I'm a mothafucking pro at it
Put the track on you know I'm 'bout to toe tag it
John Doe mothafucker
Day 9 shit. Sound State beats. That cliché shit. Rest in peace to B.I.G. shit right?
Twist the broccoli, let's drive drunk and knock some beats
I'll rock your teeth down the back of your throat clown
You ain't beating me at nothing, no how
Like it's a showdown I'm coming in with guns drawn
You punks gone laying dead on your front lawn
But I'm a happy kind of guy and I like cash
I try everyday but never find it in a pint glass
I'm nice smashed, life got me by the nut sack
Bend that bitch over and I stick it in her butt crack
Listen to son rap, but you punks wack
You come around here and you get stuck like a thumbtack
I don't believe 'em when they talking all that tough shit
You 'bout to punch him in the face? Enough bitch
You wasn't tough kid, your momma gave you papers
When I didn't have no food I would go out and take it
John Doe
Cuz I was hungry matter fact I was starving
Looking like a crackhead don't even get me started
Never again call me fat boy pig body
I eat nonstop just because I can probably (that's why)
I'm doing great though, I wish you could relate bro
It's hard to explain to a mothafucker hey yo
Remember when I couldn't get these cats to play my disc
Now they listen close and be like that's my favorite shit
But my patience is got you on some thin ice
Disrespectful mothafucker don't you know I've been nice
I've been rapping since you was in the cunt brother
Hold it down son, take it in the mud cutter
That's the brown, you can blow it out your butt cheeks
I guess now pretty ladies want to fuck me
Baby suck me, like the fucking double team
And lay greasy from my piece on her double d's
John Doe
Ain't nothing sweet son I'm leaning in the caddy
Beating on the gas while I'm speeding through the valley
We out in Cali, you ain't ever been there
Screaming out the window like I'm mothafucking Rick Flair
Make a bitch stare and I hit her with a water gun
Wet her titties up, we be having all the fun
Rocking 3 retros, my room like a sneaker store
I have crack on these bitches, what I need 'em for
Got the 4's got the 5's got the 6's
I even got the press that came out before Christmas
But I don't fuck with phones, you can keep that pink bitch shit
And rocking with your skinny pants bumping Billy Danze
Rolling up a spliff kicking it with Billy Danze
Back state at Rock the Bells getting lifted
Nose like a vacuum I'm sucking up prescriptions
I get busy I'm a mothafucking pro at it
Put the track on you know I'm 'bout to toe tag it
John Doe mothafucker
Day 9 shit. Sound State beats. That cliché shit. Rest in peace to B.I.G. shit right?