We Run This WCS by Juss Kev Lyrics
[Verse 1: Juss Kev]
Uh, I’m so lyricalifornia
Somebody shoulda warned ya
Before I came and swarmed up
Into the game, Took the fame and I torn up
All of these lames, What a shame where’s the coroner
Touring ta all these different places I’m a foreigner
Shore enough I'mma reach the top and keep on soaring up
Niggas say it’s too hot I’m just barely warming up
They say you’re ill it’s pure skill bitch more than luck
Got a bad lil chick and she sure to fuck
While we sipping on grey goose and you’re the duck
Yeah that was a little jokie
Bad chick Sophie in and out her legs man I’m playing hokey pokey
I’m balling like Stokely
I deserve a trophy for killing all these dope beats
Every single quote we spoke be genius
That’s why she won’t leave she’s on the penis
Yeah you know she jockin me
Probably cause how I rock the beat
Dropping all these prophesies feeling like I am Socrates
Coppin these properties like Monopoly
Obviously you obsolete
Drop the beat and get off of me
*We run this west coast shit * [Repeats in reverse]
[Hook]
We run this west coast shit
And if you don’t know
We run this west coast
Ain’t nothing gonna stop this flow no
We run this west coast
And if you can’t believe
We run this west coast
Don’t ask nobody ask me
[Verse 2: Stig]
Yall softer than some new socks
We west coast like 2Pac
Spending hundreds at the bar and that’s just at the jukebox
Yeah, we know how to party
Crown Royal, Hennessey, Grey Goose and Bacardi
If the powder in my nose is visible then I’m sorry
I don’t mean to offend you but look don’t get me started
Nighty night to any cat that think he kinda tight
On the mic I’m knocking mothafuckers heads off like a Tyson fight
Like a spider bite we’ll leave you lumped up
If you come trippin off your girl because she’s stripping for us so what?
You better check that bitch
We already told you in the hook we run this west coast shit
Matter a fact it’s this we run this Merced shit
Every rapper but Tone while he talking that shit
Instigating, Dark Alliance, Gutter Boy Who that is?
Half an Done, Track The Grey, Sean B and Young Stig
If you come up with some hard shit check a Lil Heze track
Bet he used it first so feel free to scratch that, bitch
[Hook]
[Verse 3: Juss Kev]
Uh, I’m brighter than Edison
Pipe her with my viper then I’m peddlin
Write words in cyphers with these meddlin, kids
And your bitch jock me no letterman
If I don’t get a ten then I’m probably settlin
Ain’t no veteran better then competiting
Editing the game, it’s never been the same
If Kevin’s in your lane I’m severing your name, Dang
Ok I’m finna kill this real ish
Bet your lil sis will kiss on my nuts cause I’m fresher than Will Smith
And that’s why your girlfriend Uncle Phil this
Until the world ends I’m the realest
And you see I still twist my fingers up for that new west
Dude’s fresh and one chick just equals two breast
And 99 problems but I’m sending you text
Cause she got that new Lex and she write my crew checks
I’m so fly you could call my shoes Jets
Dudes flex till two techs hit crew necks
Yeah, who’s next
And if I give your boo sex she calling you ex
I slam her like a Suplex
You squarer than a Rubik’s
And you tacky like tic toe
Yo chick know I spit sick flows and always get dough
And if my dick grow any moe I’d be six foe
I hit hoes like Klitschko in they clito-ris
Sluts bust nuts when I lick slow
Yeah I’m the shit bro and I gotta get dough
Cause I’m money money hungry man no hippo oh
We run this west coast shit
Uh, I’m so lyricalifornia
Somebody shoulda warned ya
Before I came and swarmed up
Into the game, Took the fame and I torn up
All of these lames, What a shame where’s the coroner
Touring ta all these different places I’m a foreigner
Shore enough I'mma reach the top and keep on soaring up
Niggas say it’s too hot I’m just barely warming up
They say you’re ill it’s pure skill bitch more than luck
Got a bad lil chick and she sure to fuck
While we sipping on grey goose and you’re the duck
Yeah that was a little jokie
Bad chick Sophie in and out her legs man I’m playing hokey pokey
I’m balling like Stokely
I deserve a trophy for killing all these dope beats
Every single quote we spoke be genius
That’s why she won’t leave she’s on the penis
Yeah you know she jockin me
Probably cause how I rock the beat
Dropping all these prophesies feeling like I am Socrates
Coppin these properties like Monopoly
Obviously you obsolete
Drop the beat and get off of me
*We run this west coast shit * [Repeats in reverse]
[Hook]
We run this west coast shit
And if you don’t know
We run this west coast
Ain’t nothing gonna stop this flow no
We run this west coast
And if you can’t believe
We run this west coast
Don’t ask nobody ask me
[Verse 2: Stig]
Yall softer than some new socks
We west coast like 2Pac
Spending hundreds at the bar and that’s just at the jukebox
Yeah, we know how to party
Crown Royal, Hennessey, Grey Goose and Bacardi
If the powder in my nose is visible then I’m sorry
I don’t mean to offend you but look don’t get me started
Nighty night to any cat that think he kinda tight
On the mic I’m knocking mothafuckers heads off like a Tyson fight
Like a spider bite we’ll leave you lumped up
If you come trippin off your girl because she’s stripping for us so what?
You better check that bitch
We already told you in the hook we run this west coast shit
Matter a fact it’s this we run this Merced shit
Every rapper but Tone while he talking that shit
Instigating, Dark Alliance, Gutter Boy Who that is?
Half an Done, Track The Grey, Sean B and Young Stig
If you come up with some hard shit check a Lil Heze track
Bet he used it first so feel free to scratch that, bitch
[Hook]
[Verse 3: Juss Kev]
Uh, I’m brighter than Edison
Pipe her with my viper then I’m peddlin
Write words in cyphers with these meddlin, kids
And your bitch jock me no letterman
If I don’t get a ten then I’m probably settlin
Ain’t no veteran better then competiting
Editing the game, it’s never been the same
If Kevin’s in your lane I’m severing your name, Dang
Ok I’m finna kill this real ish
Bet your lil sis will kiss on my nuts cause I’m fresher than Will Smith
And that’s why your girlfriend Uncle Phil this
Until the world ends I’m the realest
And you see I still twist my fingers up for that new west
Dude’s fresh and one chick just equals two breast
And 99 problems but I’m sending you text
Cause she got that new Lex and she write my crew checks
I’m so fly you could call my shoes Jets
Dudes flex till two techs hit crew necks
Yeah, who’s next
And if I give your boo sex she calling you ex
I slam her like a Suplex
You squarer than a Rubik’s
And you tacky like tic toe
Yo chick know I spit sick flows and always get dough
And if my dick grow any moe I’d be six foe
I hit hoes like Klitschko in they clito-ris
Sluts bust nuts when I lick slow
Yeah I’m the shit bro and I gotta get dough
Cause I’m money money hungry man no hippo oh
We run this west coast shit