Quarterbackin – E-40 – letras

The definition of quarterbackin’the quarterback..Tell the cops don’t read into itThem days of slangin’ yay been finished, them days have been done endedSo far gone them days that I’m offendedSnitches can’t speak my name till they get windedCan’t you tell there’s been a switch made?Now fellas decide that they wanna run and tell like in the fifth gradeBut I’m too gone, young’n be clearEven when you see me, I am not really thereAnd I ain’t play fair wit’ my eye on the enemyHuggin’ the block just me and my mini-meDid it and lived it, grinded hereCops fillin’ wit’ my projects find it yeahNot only was I in the game, I was gifted in itServed food to the fiends and we called ’em dinnersPut the raw wit’ the fake out, mixed it in itCan’t explain the cat’s hustle, guess it just was inIt’s MaliciousChorusIf you got the turf crackin’ and ya money’s stackin’, yaQuarterbackin’, Quarterbackin’Leader of the squad and your the team captainQuaterbackin’, Quarterbackin’Gotta little change and ya drivin’ a rangeQuarterbackin’, Quarterbackin’If ya sound system bangs, and ya pushin’ them thangsQuarterbackin’, Quarterbackin’Might not know what I’m talkin’ aboutIf you ain’t never lived it, or seen it, or done itSeen fiends vomit, green stuff I had to clean it up wit’ cometMean stuff, so many deaths my streets is hauntedBelieve us, you shoulda seen us, like Wile E. Coyote, man super geniusAgainst all odds like Serena and VenusI only had a couple jobs in my life, but not too many thought I was grownWho woulda thought I’d sell my skill for a microphoneAnd be rappin’ about it up in the song, slidin’ on some chromeIt’s long money I earn, I’m bald headed, but I used to have a lord Jesus permWhen my name was earl before the rap gameRunnin’ from secret squirrel, I had my own thangRaised by wolves, hyenas, and barracudas, gorillas and bulls[Chorus][Pusha T]I play the field like Vick, from endzone to endzoneServe that ish like snowcones in the hoodEntrenched in the gutter, I was lost in the goodCuz I make the gat stutta like a old G shouldMamas 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 thousandTrust me young’n Pusha was never browsin’ for nothin’ section 8 housin’I’m stompin’ thru like King Kong claimin’ his home, his jungleMumblers beware the hood hates singersI connect, block the corner like Jenga, fall never, you seen ’emPosted in the hood leanin’ fiends like the Tower of PisaDamn he’s good..[Chorus x2][E-40 – Talking]Now of course you know I ain’t talkin’ about sportsI’m talkin’ about runnin some shitI’m talkin’ about workestratin’ and illustratin’Glorifyin’ ya paper routeWhether it serve it to, uh..Gettin’ out there hustlin’, grittin’ and grindin’Doin’ ya thug-thizzlemajiggadaleQuarterbackin’ man, hustlin’ mainTrust that main, yeah, in real life mainSome call it pitchin’, some call it grindin’We call it Quarterbackin’Yeah, and I ain’t talkin’ about sports, trust that main..