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Quarterbackin' (Dj Quick Remix)
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E-40
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1
[Intro]
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[Malice] E-40 and the Clipse, yeah
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[E-40] {*cut and scratch "The Quarterback"*}
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[Verse 1 - Malice]
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Tell the cops don't read into it, them days of slangin
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Yay been finished, them days have been done ended
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So far gone them days that I'm offended
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Snitches can't speak my name till they get winded
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Can't you tell there's been a switch made?
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Now fellas decide, that they wanna run and tell like in the 5th grade
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But I'm too gone, young' be clear
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Even when you see me, I am not really there
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And I ain't play fair, wit my eye on the enemy
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Huggin the block just me and my mini-me
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Did it and lived it, grinded here
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Cops feelin where my crotch at, find it yeah
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Not only was I in the game I was gifted in it
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Served food to the fiends and we called them dinners
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Put the raw wit the fakeout, mixed it in it
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Can't explain it, cats hustle guess it just was in us, Malicious
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[Chorus - E-40]
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If you got the turn cracking and ya money's stackin'
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Ya, quarterbackin', quarterbackin'
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Leader of the squad and you're the team captain
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Ya, quarterbackin', quarterbackin'
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Got a little change and you're driving a Range
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Ya, quarterbackin', quarterbackin'
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If you're sound system bangs and you're pushin them thangs
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Ya, quarterbackin', quarterbackin'
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[Verse 2 - E-40]
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Might not know what I'm talking about, if you ain't never lived it
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I see you'd a done it, see fiends vomit
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Green stuff I had to clean it up wit Comet
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Mean stuff, so many deaths my streets is haunted
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Believe us, you shoulda seen us
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Like Wild E. Coyote make super genius
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Gets a lots like Serena and Venus
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I only had a couple jobs in my life
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But not too many thought I was grown
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Who woulda thought I'd sell my scale for a microphone
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And be rapping about it up in this song, sliding on some chrome
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Uh, this long money I earn, I'm bald-headed
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But I used to have a Lord Jesus perm (Lord Jesus perm)
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When my name was Earl, before the rap game
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Running from Secret Squirrel, I had my own thang
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I was raised by wolves, hyenas and barracudas, gorillas and bulls, uh
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[Chorus]
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[Verse 3 - Pusha T]
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I play the field like Vick, from endzone to endzone
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Serve that ish like snow cones in the hood
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And trench in the gutter, I was lost to the good
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Cause I make gat stutta, like an O.G. should
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Mama's lookin', so mistooken
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Night's in the kitchen, thought I never finish cookin'
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Way before, paid for this here that I'm mouthin'
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Nineteen years young, upward of eighty-thousand
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Trust me young', Pusha was never browsin' for nothing
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Section 8, housing
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