C-Bo - Fast Quarter lyrics

Published

0 398 0

C-Bo - Fast Quarter lyrics

[Chorus:] I was bit by the hustler bug, so damn young f** d slow nickel, I want d fast quarter[x3] The digital scale for some pot an some yale A box a sawage bags an a pocket full a sprale f** d slow nickel, I want d fast quarter[x2] [Verse 1:] Pushin d game at a young age, couldn't touch me as I turn tha page n***a snotty nose from da mud, with a lot a rage Watchin d cage like a animal, a prisoner an slum Gonna give us some hepatistis, hookers, theives and bums Used to live lavish till they on left their tragic magic, bad habits Livin under a bridge, pushin a grocery basket (sadness) I never wanna be like them, so I came up wit a plan Can't swim but I'm not sinkin, keepin ma head above quicksand Went an hollad at ma mayne, he put me up in da mix Fundin me some trees,say this safer than servin bricks But d tree wasn't movin fast enough for me So I took ma profit an bought me a zabadee (some yola) Milligrams I had to measure, it's lookin a whole lot better Startin to have my cheddar, no more bill collector Follow ma mama an bought her a Honda, paid for No more sittin on da floor an borrow electricity from next door [Chorus] [Verse 2:] Look, third down, five seconds, last quarter Twenty five yards left I need tha fast quarter They blitzin wit ma line, bought hand d cash ova Touchdown I hit em wit da shuffle pa** solja Quarterbacking for the Eagles like Mike Vick In Philly runnin plays wit da Eagles like Mike Vick Day an night shift, on d grind wit em white bricks Call me Terry Crews how I move wit dem white chicks Ha! Catch me up an down tha inner state Dealin woke me and dat money got a dinner date The landlord move rooms they neva renovate I'm 22 but in da state a gettin 28 Ha! I got a whole thang groovin Pot full a grease, I got tha quarter thang oozin Whey ma track stars, it's a c**aine movement Rap game lame, but da dope game boomin [Chorus] [Verse 3:] Been a balla, been a cooka, been a D-boy On a corner pitch of couple nickels colder to da key boy I need dat fast money, fast back, fast lane I f** da slow nickel, I need that fast change Then they get you wit particles tryna get d overs Then I got da new leather caddy, tryna get da Rover Got da egg money, white to d yoga Errday money, fight for a solja Wit da calib donnin quick, like I told ya Real northern Cali bangin n***a I fold ya Ask Ward about me, I get in a n***a a** 44 on d leb, I get on that n***a fast I addicted to paper, so I stay on da caper I take dat white girl out, then I duct tape her If you are not a bird, you ain't on ma level I've neva seen a bird step wit da Mets [Chorus] [Verse 4:] D time is runnin out,an I ain't got time for games So let me pronounciate it,an I make sh** simple and plain All the fairytale antics must f**in subside I hit dat BOK big a** takin a low slow ride I'm tryna grind, stay up on ma p's an q's Pussies an quarters that help me keep ma sh** in two Grind time, affiliations are sure to become negligent I won't tolerate slow pokes wit pokin ma sh** Stack chips out on da grill so p**y f**in on trip A k**in CD hustlin n***a only stylin d sh** Like wish d fact well straight masterin like fat joe Make sure they get to pull out their clips into all you fake a** homes The fast quarter is goin an d clock isn't runnin Though they pick up ma hustle game, whie I'm out here big timin b**hes get tossed under d curb, cause they test ma f**in mic Doin what I gotta do under dis bright a** street light [Chorus]