Music Video

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Listen to A Brand You Can Trust by La Coka Nostra
ALBUMA Brand You Can TrustLa Coka Nostra
Listen to At Home With Noize MC featuring La Coka Nostra
PLAYLISTAt Home With Noize MCApple Music
Listen to Bobby Byrd: Sampled featuring La Coka Nostra
PLAYLISTBobby Byrd: SampledApple Music Soul/Funk

Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
La Coka Nostra
La Coka Nostra
Performer
Sick Jacken
Sick Jacken
Performer
Slaine
Slaine
Performer
ILL BILL
ILL BILL
Performer
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Callejo
Callejo
Songwriter
Erik Schrody
Erik Schrody
Songwriter
William Braunstein
William Braunstein
Songwriter
George Carroll
George Carroll
Songwriter
Leor Dimant
Leor Dimant
Songwriter
Daniel O'Connor
Daniel O'Connor
Songwriter
Jack Gonzalez
Jack Gonzalez
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
DJ Lethal
DJ Lethal
Producer

Lyrics

If you ain't know homes then it might go down La Coka Nostra, now you in the Psycho Realm FBI got files on a microfilm We got kids on our dick like a Michael film No Neverland Ranch or a Running Man jam Just a hundred-man camp go-go-gonna blam blam R-r-running stance man with a ton of damn plants Then get the money and scram with the gun in my pants Visions of pain, cut like incisions with blades Spoke to the Devil yesterday, he put some shit in my brain Twisted with Slaine, Manitoba sniffing the 'caine '86, take Jordans off of kids on the train I spit flames, spit fireballs, wire jaws My mind stay hacked through firewalls We causing the riot y'all We them white boys always down to fight and brawl Malcolm X out the window, make the rifles talk Yo I'm mad obnoxious and I'm kinda rude Got a pocket full of money, need to strip for food Got an airplane ticket and a new suitcase Got a boxcutter tucked underneath my shoelace Got my nuts up and my passport ready Let's hit the fucking bar and see some titties already Puff in Alvarado, pull over by the wall I'mma jump out the cab and count this eight ball Le vendí polvo a los güeros, están locos los cabrónes, son los más cocodrilos del ghetto, (What'd he say?) Serio pedo con el clavo de yeyo, gringo periquero con el chavo primero. (What the fuck is he talking about?) Dicen que se llama la Coka Nostra, saco un ocho, luego piden otra bolsa Le pone a esa madre hasta que el vato choca. Surtiendoles es La Cosa Nostra, homie. You so fucking crazy I'm freaking, let's vanish I don't even know if what he's speaking is Spanish Puerto Rican, Japanese, Korean, or Haitian We stick out like a sore thumb being caucasian Chill the fuck out, Slaine! Who's in the Lincoln? You're coked out your face and the booze that you're drinking Is making you p-noid, confusing your thinking Chill out in front of Everlast, you're just gonna jinx him! Ey yo I can hear you dudes running your mouths I got some cokehead bitches naked up at the house We can feed em all yey and bust nuts in their mouths But I'm taking it down I fucked a duck on the couch. Yo what's your name anyways? Britney? Didn't you used to work over at Centerfolds? They fired you cause you were too fat? Oh that's fucked up. You look skinny to me. You like doing coke though, right? Oh I can get you a job somewhere else. Show me your titties.
Writer(s): Erik Schrody, G. Carroll, J. Gonzalez, L. Dimant, W. Braunstein Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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