Statik Selektah - It's Quiet lyrics

Published

0 220 0

Statik Selektah - It's Quiet lyrics

[Produced by Dame Grease] [Verse 1] I hustle hard just to make sure so you ain't grow like me Sick walking through the rain and the snow like me Proud to know, you'll never know poor like me Never putting quarters in the pay phone like me I wouldn't see my dad for weeks, stuck in the ghetto Washing my clothes in the sink, these O's up in my bank Used to be a f**ing dream, I need buckets of creme Walking through hell, I laced my mic with gasoline Just like a race car, I need fuel in my tank 100 proof, 80 proof, whatever fluid you drink Wanted to be a hustler, oming through in a mink Until I seen what happens to you from a tool or a shank These streets don't play fair they'll ruin your life No more cell phone, now you getting news from a kite Get yourself k**ed now, trying to wrestle the beast I'm screaming Free Gutta even if he's never released I'm screaming Free Wais, gotta keep eyes on those who despise Your success, they'll set you up next Sometimes your own flesh, and blood wanna see you fall They don't wanna see you ball, if you ain't giving them none Disloyal and then some Like how you gon drink from the edge of my pen I wrote those rhymes, but y'all just quote those lines Plotting on your family like its the thing to do You wasn't shooting in the gym It's no ring for you It's quiet [Verse 2] Life is all about choices, brown or clear liquor Either way that sh** meant to pierce liver Let me break it down and give you a clear picture This game full of clowns, just keeping it real with ya Fronting on the gram so they can appear richer Say they superstars but only a mere flicker I can't front though, the plot just grows thicker Even Pac started to think he was the real Bishop You got the juice now Term, go ahead and Diddy Bop 50 Caliber in the trunk, I call it Fitty Wop My cousin still in the can, sometimes I sit and shot Another innocent man k**ed by a city cop Courts, judges and pigs, they all go hand in hand They even falsified d**h pics of Sandra Bland Who can you trust now?, since you can't trust the news And Fox 5 feeding us lies, thinking we fools Guess that's the reason I rhyme to drop j**els And show you something different you wasn't taught in a school And f** love cuz love will keep you confused That's why I switch b**hes like kicks, fitted's and shoes I'm tryna lighten the mood, that's why I kid and joke But ain't a damn thing funny about living broke Or shoveling snow to buy the kids Christmas clothes Or dropping 200 songs and ain't got sh** to show Eating Ramen and eggs for like 9 days And your royalty check can't even buy J's Thinking back to when I used to supply haze Moms stressing me like, this ain't the son that I raised I just wanna get on and live the good life Fat bank account, new big house, kids, wife A picket fence and a couple of dogs A big a** yard, with a four car garage But for now, I just leave it up to God I just leave it up to God

You need to sign in for commenting.
No comments yet.