South, The West, The East Coast Songtext - Saigon

South, The West, The East Coast - Saigon

[Verse 1]
It’s like I’m wrong when I’m right. Like I’m right when I’m wrong
S’why I never take on when I’m writing a song
Was [all “Uh huh”?] with this life and Laquan
Said, “The world is a chess board. Try not to live your life as a pawn.”
Look, I took his advice in this poem
God gave me this talent, so I’ve been gnawin’ since the night I was born
S’all about how you go about gettin’ it
‘Cause bein’ down, you bound to get sick of it
I got a need for learnin’. I got a need for me to be determined
I gotta do somethin’ for me to try to feed the yearnin’
That goes on in the pit of my soul. Somebody told me that errything that glitters is gold
But no… I’m tryin’ to get in my goals, so yo
Move right when you see me—I need the open road
Nigga, you know s’how it’s supposed to go
It ain’t a secret—faggot, you supposed to know
Come on

[Hook]
Everywhere that we go—The South, the West, the East Coast
It’s the same old thang
We chose to live the street code—We gots to keep the heat close
Nigga, it ain’t no game
Shorty was doin’ the deep throat, trying to make some [seed notes?]
That bitch was off of the chain
What’s happened to my people? (Look…)
We can’t live and it’s a God damn shame

[Verse 2]
Open the keys and learn you gotta take the good with the bad
I admit I did a lot of shit I shouldn’t of had
I mean, things you couldn’t ima…
Gin drinking at twelve. I used to stash with that .44 Mag
See, I never had my pops and my bad
Shit, we grew up poor as fuck—we never had the option to brag
So I did what the other kids did: start hittin’ the block with the Glock
Shit, a lotta wig splittin’
First, they put me in the kid prison
S’where I started thinkin’ about some of the shit I coulda did different
But nah… What do I do?
Get released in March. My man I shot—not one, nigga, but two
Them crackers sent me back to the zoo
Did five years straight—now I’m back here, rapping to you
And you should be glad I’m making hot joints with magic
Not runnin’ up on your punk ass , pointin’ the gat

[Hook]
Everywhere that we go—The South, the West, the East Coast
It’s the same old thang
We chose to live the street code—We gots to keep the heat close
Nigga, it ain’t no game
Shorty was doin’ the deep throat, trying to make some [seed notes?]
That bitch was off of the chain
What’s happened to my people? (Look…)
We can’t live and it’s a God damn shame


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