This is a song about "Coast"

I got rhymes for days nigga i'm cold

I rock her world from coast to coast

The best to the least, west to the east, but he's the east coast,

I remember when i used to bust a mack with my eyes closed

Climbing up the pole, jack and the beanstalk, bitch it's gold

They're frozen and cold and smokin' the bowls of dope and then coast,

Thought you was a cutie, though your booty mad thin

East coast to west coast all across the nation

I swear these off rhyme bums are full of hate

I'm on the british south east coast mate

I watched people i know pray and catch the holy ghost

More phillies than pete rose, i'm southern but on the east coast,

From the east to the west coast

Plenty smoke, plenty rolled