West Coast Shit
West Coast Shit

Pop Smoke ft. Tyga, Quavo - West Coast Shit Lyrics

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West Coast Shit Music Video

West Coast Shit Lyrics

(Bongo ByTheWay)
(Mustard on the beat, ho) look

Pop Smoke, I'm on some west coast shit (Pop Smoke)
In New York, I got a west coast bitch (west coast)
(Huncho on that west coast shit, woo)
(Left wrist, both wrists, and some bricks, woo)
If the opps is in the spot, red dot 'em (rah)
Somebody call batman, I'm robbin' (brrt)
(I got 'em, smoke, I pop 'em)
(Put the bitch on Prada, now she proper)

Ha, T-Raww, I'm on some west coast shit (business)
Lafeezy, live on the sunset strip (yeah, T-raww)
Today was a good day, fly as a blimp (aight, ah, ah)
I just booked a round trip, I don't argue with the bitch (no)
And my Spanish bitch talk spicy with the lips
When the car worth a M, you don't gotta touch the rim
Don't ask me the price, cost an arm, leg, and limb (yeah, ayy)
When you in the light, niggas wanna steer you dim (bit')
Where you get that from? Niggas gotta say it's him
Wanna copy my flow? I switch this shit again
Niggas ain't put the work, they don't celebrate the win
When you was ballin' with your bitch, I was shootin' in the gym, motherfucker, ah

Pop Smoke, I'm on some west coast shit (Pop Smoke)
In New York, I got a west coast bitch (west coast)
(Huncho on that west coast shit, woo)
(Left wrist, both wrists, and some bricks, woo)
If the opps is in the spot, red dot 'em (grrah)
Somebody call batman, I'm robbin' (brrt)
(I got 'em, smoke, I pop 'em)
(Put the bitch on Prada, now she proper)

Christian Louboutins like I stepped in pasta
But I'll still steam his ass, hot grabba
I'm in that new Dior, Quay in that Prada
Don't get it confused, I'll drop him
Four door niggas ridin' strap, get straight hacked to the back
We don't play disrespect, real talk this not just rap
Gang ties in my tat, .22's in the shed
Shotgun in my bag, knock off a nigga dreads
Thirty-six karats on my wrist
That mean there's thirty-six karats on my bitch (woo)
Shoutout Virgil, got me drippin'
And it's straight from the faucet in the kitchen

Pop Smoke, I'm on some west coast shit (Pop Smoke)
In New York, I got a west coast bitch (west coast)
(Huncho on that west coast shit, woo)
(Left wrist, both wrists, and some bricks, woo)
If the opps is in the spot, red dot 'em (grrah)
Somebody call batman, I'm robbin' (brrt)
(I got 'em, smoke, I pop 'em)
(Put the bitch on Prada, now she proper)
(Quavo)

West side, North side, yessir (yessir)
East side, South side, let's go to work (go to work)
Right hand in the air, let's pop a Perc' (pop a Perc')
New coupe off the lot, skrrt in the dirt (skrrt)
She came in last place, she can get a shirt (get a shirt)
If she go to first place, baby get a purse (purse)
Cook it in the left hand, whip it in reverse (whip it)
Dead man in the hearse when the gang purge (uh)
500K on the wrist (ice), look at me scorin' your bitch (woo)
My diamonds close and they kiss, the skelly came with a fish (woo)
I catch a playoff assist, now watch it jump out the pit (uh)
I can't get caught in the mix
I make a hit, I can't miss (hit)

Pop Smoke, I'm on some west coast shit (Pop Smoke)
In New York, I got a west coast bitch (west coast)
(Huncho on that west coast shit, woo)
(Left wrist, both wrists, and some bricks, woo)
If the opps is in the spot, red dot 'em (grrah)
Somebody call batman, I'm robbin' (brrt)
(I got 'em, smoke, I pop 'em)
(Put the bitch on Prada, now she proper)

Writer(s): Bashar Jackson, Dijon McFarlane, Michael Stevenson, Quavious Marshall, Uforo Ebong
Copyright(s): Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind

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