[Intro: A$AP Ferg & Busta Rhymes]
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Run it up, run it up, run it up, run it up (Remix)
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Fuck that shit, we get turnt til the sun is up
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All of you niggas get burnt when the gun is up
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This that East Coast, motherfucker
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Call me “Mr. East Coast,” motherfucker
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Let me give them a friendly reminder real quick, yo
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[Verse 1: Busta Rhymes]
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Yall already know the God gotta talk
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Every single time I come, you niggas know I gotta do it
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Yes, I gotta do it, and I gotta kill em, and I gotta hit em
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Yes, you know a nigga gotta beat em stupid
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Only got forty-one seconds just to give a nigga shit
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Every second, bitch, I gotta use it
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Sorry, but a nigga blew it, and I came to grab the microphone
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And I make a motherfucker lose it
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And I make niggas jump, and I back niggas up
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She in the back of the truck
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Lil mami wanna fuck and she really wanna suck
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When I finish with her, then we go in the back of the club
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And we do this shit again, my nigga, pronto
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Bip-de-badda-de-booda-de-beat it like a bongo
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Banging on the pussy like a nigga named Alonzo
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Head game crazy, that make her the head honcho
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Mad cause I took his bitch, and now, he think he macho?
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Somebody better call the cops, yo
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‘Fore we run up inside of that nigga little condo
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Put him in a box, put the nigga in a cargo (Cargo? Cargo!)
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Shut a nigga down (Fake bitch)
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Throw a bottle at you, shut a nigga mouth (Break shit)
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Come and follow, nigga, stand up on the couch (Shake shit)
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Let her swallow, niggas know were in the house (Trey-fifth)
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East Coast, nigga!
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[Verse 2: A$AP Ferg]
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1-0-0-3-1 is where my ZIP is
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Live in Har-ar-lem, up in the trenches
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Run through a bodega like I aint got riches
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Run through a bodega like I aint got— (Come on)
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Dont do it for the haters, I do it for the bitches
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My flow Al-Qaeda, I kill rap niggas
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Yall Now-and-Laters, uh, sweet ass-niggas
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Soon as you get famous, they wanna ass-kiss (Muah)
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Only thing that Im missing is Hov verse (JAY-Z)
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I get a feeling they want the old Ferg (Yah)
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“Cocaine Castle”, “Hood Pope” Ferg (Yah)
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Got a question to ask you: Do you know Ferg?
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Do you know that I come from where the toast burn?
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New York, New York, uh, 1-4-3rd
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On Hungry Ham, up on the corner
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Fiends gangster-leaning, never sober
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From being in the streets to run a culture
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I never been in the weave, I had hoes, bruh (Yeah)
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Whos that jiggy motherfucker with the clothes, bruh? (Yeah)
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Im finna kill these motherfuckers with the flow, bruh
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Im the best in the game with the flow, bruh
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In New York, I Milly Rock to “Magnolia”
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I love the East, but shout-out to every coast, bruh
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South to North and even West Coast, bruh (Come on)
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[Verse 3: A$AP Rocky]
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Blackin like Im fresh up out retirement
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My flow still monumental, mental
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Couldnt ride an instrumental, but they ridin dick
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I set the standards for requirements, so call the firemen
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Just me, myself and I, the world is mine, I put the “I” in his
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His posse too clean (Ayy), his diamonds like TIP (Ayy)
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His skin too clear (Ayy), his bitch gon stare (Ayy)
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So mind your biz, how they find the time for minding mine
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I find these college chicks for top
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With Kylies lips, oh my, oh my (Run it)
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Run it, run it like you want it (Run it)
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Run it, run it like you stole it (Run it)
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Running, running like Im going (Woo)
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Running, pitching like Im bowling (Woo)
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In my city, gangs run the inner city
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Load a semi for the chiddy bang
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Flacko, Fergie, Frenchie with the bitties
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Hit up Remy for the pretty gang
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[Verse 4: Dave East & French Montana]
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Lately, I feel like a Beatle
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Im Paulie McCartney just rocking Moschino
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Moscato or Pinot
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I got some bitches to hop in the Regal
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Phenomenal deepthroat (Phenomenal)
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Im more Ali than Muhammad
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My noodles was Ramen, go Google my diamonds (Go Google)
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I got some shooters in college
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I feel like a coach, Im recruiting and signing, look
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I still be moving in silence
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Im ballin in blue like Im hooping in Dallas (Ballin)
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Bitch, I dont play for no Mavericks
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You need to think who gon pay for your casket (Who?)
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Ignorant bastard (Hanh)
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But Im still conscious enough to give hope to the masses (Hanh)
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Watch the coke do gymnastics (East side)
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Dominique Dawes, foreign my car when Im mashin (Hanh)
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[Verse 5: French Montana]
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Chain, busting it down
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Wrist, busting it down (Down)
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Your bitch busting it down (Down)
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Rap game, Im fucking it now (Pow)
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I could be a jeweler (Jeweler)
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Neck, thats Slick the Ruler (Ruler)
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You niggas is comedy (Bling)
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Talking fast like Bone Thugs-N-Harmony (Harmony)
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KRS-One, Big L flows (Flows)
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Son of a gun with the Buffalo (‘Lo)
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Head on my wrist is a P1 (One)
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Made more money than E1 (One)
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One time Chinx, two time Yams (Yams)
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Get the money, slide like a violin (Violin)
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You know my nigga Max almost home? (Ha)
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You know who run the East Coast zone, nigga? (Ha)
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(Maybach Music)
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[Verse 6: Rick Ross]
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In the kitchen, culinary, I could whip a Bloody Mary
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And I wish that blood would dead me, Ima get your brother buried
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Gangbanging with your halo, business on the payphone
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Bitches pussies drying up like Tazs Angels
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Never was a client cause that boy aint buying it
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And I got a bottom bitch, my top come on consignment
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Step up from the minor league, double-M the dynasty
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No, I never sold dope; I just got me a finders fee
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Following my frequency, niggas rapping week to week
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Suckers be so weak to me; text, but dont speak to me
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You can never speak for me, see the B.I. chemistry
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Check into the crazy house, Ima turn the labels out
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[Chorus: A$AP Ferg]
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Run it up, run it up, run it up, run it up
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Run it up, run it up, run it up, run it up (Remix)
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Fuck that shit, we get turnt til the sun is up
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All of you niggas get burnt when the gun is up (All right)
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This that East Coast, motherfucker (Ooh)
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But I know this West Coast— (Snoop Dogg!)
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[Verse 7: Snoop Dogg]
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Ten-twenty was my date of birth, the day I came to Earth
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Bottle-sipping, love to burp, young nigga thats doing dirt
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“Long Beach” across my shirt, all yall niggas gon get murked
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What the fuck is you talkin bout? Me and Ferg, we gon put in work
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Bang on you, gang culture, out of this world
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Its all on a bitch—is she a Blood? Is she a Crip?
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Dont slip, think not, on the block where its hot
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Legalize with the nines, give a fuck about a cop
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Real shit, this is it, from the bottom to the Bay
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This is anybody K, California all day
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Yes sir, on the curb, Mossberg by the van
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Lil homies on the roof with the “blam, blam, blam!”
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Long Beach, popping pill on em
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I been working so hard, nigga, get your bale on
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I been working so hard, nigga, work to sell somethin
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I been working so hard, welcome to the Hell-zone, zone, zone
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[Chorus: A$AP Ferg & Snoop Dogg]
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See Im from Long Beach
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Run it up, run it up, run it up, run it up
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Run it up, run it up, run it up, run it up (Remix)
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See Im from Long Beach
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Fuck that shit, we get turnt til the sun is up
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All of you niggas get burnt when the gun is up (Oww, all right)
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See Im from Long Beach
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This that East Coast, motherfucker
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California, motherfucker, see Im from Long Beach
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Call me “Mr. East Coast,” motherfucker (Long Beach)
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West Coast
