| Triple C clique droppin' somethin' to bump
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| Just giving you a taste of the Central Coast fuck
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| See it’s time to ride, Imma take you city wide
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| Cause my verse is flowing trough the wicked southside
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| From the 8−0-5 to the 2−1-3, puttin' it down
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| See alot of Triple C
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| Dedicated to my homies every wagon stone
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| Dedicated to the hoes that love to flow
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| Cause I love to drop the shit, the shit will make you ill
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| Stayin' true to my game, and my game is truly real
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| Real uh? |
| Real hard and fast
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| Passing fony clique’s like a thing of the past
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| See, were coming up smooth, with the gangsta groove
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| Just layin' it down, without a thing to prove
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| So keep on Blazin' Up, and keep that ass lit
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| Cuase you can’t get enough of that gangsta shit
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| Can’t get enough of that gangsta shit
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| Triple C, steady droppin' hits
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| Can’t get enough of that gangsta shit
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| Fuck with us, and get a busted lip (bitch)
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| Teerin' it up? |
| naw the same old shit
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| Another hit comin' from the clicka Central Coast Clique
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| Walking down the street’s blowing motherfuckas up
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| Your talking much shit, and you can’t get enough
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| Pissed off cause a rhymin' every time
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| Not once in a while, but on every line
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| Mixing, rhyming, is every thing to me
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| 1−3 style, won’t rap for free
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| I do it my way, Central Coast way, all the way
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| To see if another mexicano rapper makes my day
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| Fuckin' it up on the microphone, stutt-stuttering anything
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| Better leave that shit home, and take a lesson from mexicano’s that know
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| How to drink down, smoke, and fucking flow
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| So keep on Blazin' Up, and keep that ass lit
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| Cuase you can’t get enough of that gangsta shit
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| From city to city, block to block
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| Buster dropped, to the sound of my Glock
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| Just letting all you putos know
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| You gotta slow your roll, and start a gangster kinda stroll
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| When you live in the Central Coast, the shit is all good
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| But being Mexican, I miss understood
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| So I use my verse to get my point across
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| The Central Coast Clique, you down, or get tossed
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| It’s a motherfucking family
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| Triple C, and that’s the way it’s gotta be
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| Keep dropping hits and taking toast’s
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| Drinking shit, and pumpin' out smoke
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| Dropping shit up on whatever you do
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| For whatever you do, keep your fucking game true
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| So keep on Blazin' Up, and keep that ass lit
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| Cuase you can’t get enough of that gangsta shit
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| It’s somethin' about the Central Coast sound, huh?
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| Feelin' the beat when we get down
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| Flowin' to a motherfucking b-a-shit
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| If you got no rhythm, then you might as well quit
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| Step off the mic and off stage, and while your at it
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| Check at the crowd and check the guage
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| Fucking it up like we always do
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| Some down ass homies and your damn ass crew
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| So keep your ass off the mix, bitch
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| Or you’ll find your self in another fucking fix, bitch
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| Fony motherfucker, studio gangsta
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| Little trick ass bitch, motherfucking ranker
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| I never told a lie when I’m flowing on the mic
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| Your daddy is a queer and your mama is a dike
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| So keep on Blazin' Up, and keep that ass lit
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| Cuase you can’t get enough of that gangsta shit |