South Coast Stat Quo (Ft. Young Buck)

[Verse 1: Stat Quo]
Uh, look at him, pimp, balls out bruh
Grown man shit, if it's drama we handle it
From Atlanta, home of hammers
Lotta folk that's scandalous
[?] beat yo face to the canvas (My bruh)
Knuckle up, punk, pop the trunk, cock and dump
Ridin' slump, it's hard punk, sugar water, shawty crunk
Fuckin' with mine will get you stomped
Ride on my enemies crush my comp
Leave their bodies covered with lumps
Givin' them what they don't really want
And that's the hay-maker, south coast jaw breaker
Talkin' that yin-yang when you shook like a salt shaker
The haters, undertaker, wishin' death on jealous fakers
Mad cause I'm gettin' paper, mad to see I'm flyin', niggas
Stat Quo (GMM), know the name buddy
We have assembled an empire, and they're damn muddy (Hah)
Ride clean, down the strip sippin' prime bubbly
My mind on my grip, representin' the damn dirty

[Chorus: Stat Quo]
This be that south coast shit
And you better go figure, but fuck who you go get (GMM)
Cause we be that grown man gang
And we totin' big things
All my partners got good aim (G-Unit)
This be that south coast shit
And you better go figure, but fuck who you go get (GMM)
Cause we be that grown man gang
And we totin' big things
All my partners got good aim (G-Unit)