Quarterbackin' (feat. Clipse)

Lyrics

Tell the cops don't read into it
 Them days of slangin' yay been finished, them days have been done ended
 So far gone them days that I'm offended
 Snitches can't speak my name till they get winded
 Can't you tell there's been a switch made?
 Now fellas decide that they wanna run and tell like in the fifth grade
 But I'm too gone, young'n be clear
 Even when you see me, I am not really there
 And I ain't play fair wit' my eye on the enemy
 Huggin' the block just me and my mini-me
 Did it and lived it, grinded here
 Cops fillin' wit' my projects find it yeah
 Not only was I in the game, I was gifted in it
 Served food to the fiends and we called 'em dinners
 Put the raw wit' the fake out, mixed it in it
 Can't explain the cat's hustle, guess it just was in
 It's Malicious
 If you got the turf crackin' and ya money's stackin', ya
 Quarterbackin', Quarterbackin'
 Leader of the squad and your the team captain
 Quaterbackin', Quarterbackin'
 Gotta little change and ya drivin' a range
 Quarterbackin', Quarterbackin'
 If ya sound system bangs, and ya pushin' them thangs
 Quarterbackin', Quarterbackin'
 Might not know what I'm talkin' about
 If you ain't never lived it, or seen it, or done it
 Seen fiends vomit, green stuff I had to clean it up wit' comet
 Mean stuff, so many deaths my streets is haunted
 Believe us, you shoulda seen us, like Wile E. Coyote, man super genius
 Against all odds like Serena and Venus
 I only had a couple jobs in my life, but not too many thought I was grown
 Who woulda thought I'd sell my skill for a microphone
 And be rappin' about it up in the song, slidin' on some chrome
 It's long money I earn, I'm bald headed, but I used to have a Lord Jesus perm
 When my name was earl before the rap game
 Runnin' from secret squirrel, I had my own thang
 Raised by wolves, hyenas, and barracudas, gorillas and bulls
 I play the field like Vick
 From endzone to endzone
 Serve that ish like snowcones in the hood
 Entrenched in the gutter, I was lost in the good
 'cause I make the gat stutta like a old G should
 Mamas lookin', so much snookin'
 Nights in the kitchen thought I'd never finish cookin'
 Way before pay for this that I'm mouthin'
 19 years young, upward of 80 thousand
 Trust me young'n Pusha was never browsin' for nothin' section 8 housin'
 I'm stompin' through like King Kong claimin' his home, his jungle
 Mumblers beware the hood hates singers
 I connect, block the corner like Jenga, fall never, you seen 'em
 Posted in the hood leanin' fiends like the Tower of Pisa
 Damn he's good
 Now of course you know I ain't talkin' about sports
 I'm talkin' about runnin some shit
 I'm talkin' about workestratin' and illustratin'
 Glorifyin' ya paper route
 Whether it serve it to, uh.
 Gettin' out there hustlin', grittin' and grindin'
 Doin' ya thug-thizzlemajiggadale
 Quarterbackin' man, hustlin' main
 Trust that main, yeah, in real life main
 Some call it pitchin', some call it grindin'
 We call it Quarterbackin'
 Yeah, and I ain't talkin' about sports, trust that

Audio Features

Song Details

Duration
04:44
Key
2
Tempo
97 BPM

Share

More Songs by E-40'

Similar Songs