Key Point by Coast Lyrics
I swing low high low, standing toe by toe
But the blow by blow hit like dose by foe
You should go hide yo, maybe roll hydro
Cuz you smoking if you think that I won't find you
Got some static, semi automatic in my tackle box
Been a savage since Cabbage Patches watching Fraggle Rock
Sitting back a lot, thinking what's my next move
Hopping jet blues, getting checks tryna stretch food
Respect dude, I been hustling tryna get dough
You got your Glock cocked to bust shots, better get low
I got the best flow on the whole island
These cocksuckers get mad cuz I'm styling
I'm so over it, I feel like I control this shit
Focused on the mark, about to spark, got explosives lit
I thought I told you kids you'll end up with some swollen lips
Holding ribs choking with a mouth full of broken jibs
I hold the fifth getting drunk while I drive dirty
Got work at 6 out partying til 5:30
My mind told me that I'm only getting older
But this chip that's on my shoulder twice as heavy when I'm sober
So I try to drink away the pain sipping Dainy
I think the whole world has gone insane tryna play me
That's my mind trippin, nevermind pimpin
I don't care what they talking 'bout homie I'm different
Five 6's, dimes and nine bitches
I don't mind what I'm inside, I slide dick in
Then I'm splitting, I don't got the proper patience
Your occupation is to lie but you're not persuasive
Apprehensive knowing how you girls are
I'm swinging for the fences, screaming yelling World Star
I'm dropping pearls, par, gems and assorted jewels
Y'all must of got yourselves confused with important dudes
The softest fools act like murderers with guns drawn
Til the news crews reporting live from they front lawn
There's been a homicide, bullets from a rapper's gun
Never that, the street's flooding in a faggot's blood
Stacking ones, crafting raps for you backwards cunts
The type of tracks that make you cats want to pack it up
And get the fuck out cuz what you punks 'bout
I'm back to work, grab your card homie punch out
I'm back to work, grab your card homie punch out
With Out Papers
WOP
Guinea shit
But the blow by blow hit like dose by foe
You should go hide yo, maybe roll hydro
Cuz you smoking if you think that I won't find you
Got some static, semi automatic in my tackle box
Been a savage since Cabbage Patches watching Fraggle Rock
Sitting back a lot, thinking what's my next move
Hopping jet blues, getting checks tryna stretch food
Respect dude, I been hustling tryna get dough
You got your Glock cocked to bust shots, better get low
I got the best flow on the whole island
These cocksuckers get mad cuz I'm styling
I'm so over it, I feel like I control this shit
Focused on the mark, about to spark, got explosives lit
I thought I told you kids you'll end up with some swollen lips
Holding ribs choking with a mouth full of broken jibs
I hold the fifth getting drunk while I drive dirty
Got work at 6 out partying til 5:30
My mind told me that I'm only getting older
But this chip that's on my shoulder twice as heavy when I'm sober
So I try to drink away the pain sipping Dainy
I think the whole world has gone insane tryna play me
That's my mind trippin, nevermind pimpin
I don't care what they talking 'bout homie I'm different
Five 6's, dimes and nine bitches
I don't mind what I'm inside, I slide dick in
Then I'm splitting, I don't got the proper patience
Your occupation is to lie but you're not persuasive
Apprehensive knowing how you girls are
I'm swinging for the fences, screaming yelling World Star
I'm dropping pearls, par, gems and assorted jewels
Y'all must of got yourselves confused with important dudes
The softest fools act like murderers with guns drawn
Til the news crews reporting live from they front lawn
There's been a homicide, bullets from a rapper's gun
Never that, the street's flooding in a faggot's blood
Stacking ones, crafting raps for you backwards cunts
The type of tracks that make you cats want to pack it up
And get the fuck out cuz what you punks 'bout
I'm back to work, grab your card homie punch out
I'm back to work, grab your card homie punch out
With Out Papers
WOP
Guinea shit