BSF – Quarantine Lyrics
Quarantine Lyrics By BSF (Black Soprano Family) Feat. Rick Hyde & Heem
I just spent a quarter chicken now I’m worth a quarter ticket
Put a quarter in my back give a quarter to these b*tches
Ever since a quarter century I’ve been raking up the digits
All these dollars out of quarters I should give a course in vending
Brought the razor back like Arkansas then butcher taught me blending
Turn the four into a seven then you hit the block and kill it
That’s how I fed my momma and three other little siblings
Not to mention my children sh*t everybody winning
Took a gamble just to get here the risk takers gonna get there’s
Or I’m getting a checkerboard aka a b*tch squared
Break it down in fair chances then we going square dancing
From charlotte back to New York in Miami like I’m Ant Mason
Black Soprano Family with the leverage is impeccable
You rappers is unethical turn ni**as to vegetables
Matter fact ni**a shoot yourself with it Plaxico shells
Hotter than Mexico feel it on your chest like a stethoscope
I love the game I’m from the streets
I’ve survived some murder beef
Ever since then I play for keeps
I’m shooting everywhere the laser blink
Drums on a 223 shutting down a motor on the v
So be careful riding down the streets
And ni**a bring your biggest gun when you think you’re running down on me
I’m with some ni**as that’ll die for me
You gotta look me in the eyes when you tell me you gonna ride for me
It’s time to tell my side of the story
A ni**a came off the bench but I got rings like Robert Horry
I made movies but ain’t record it
Sprayed 30 something shells clear the scene before it get reported
Moving cautious I can’t afford it
Raise by them real trenches catch a body and you get reported
Pushing grams trying to make a fortune
Had a couple bad runs like the Bills when they had Lawson
I need the Rollie with the bezel frosted
Having triple beam dreams reminiscing when I sold frosting
Me and my Opps like LA and Boston
I thought of that one on a plane on a flight from LA to Boston
Sipping Dusse with the devil across us
The way we do you think it’s voodoo so be careful before you double cross us
You run your mouth my guns talking
Place a bounty on your head now you just a dead man walking
They told you’re playing with fire
Cause I ain’t throw my phone away yet
I’m in deep the hustla instinct ain’t go away yet
I kept a hammer in the bubble coat on the east side of Buffalo
The forty made me trigger happy my plug made me comfortable
Hit the lot and I’m copping ain’t nothing to guess about the sh*t
I don’t even know the price and need to test drive the whip
When you were stress about a bit*h
My team was fresh outta brick
Copping in Miami at the best west by the strip
Your b*tch hit my phone and she don’t want nothing specific
Hoes know I’m ballin like the US in the summer olympics
I played the strip till the mail came in Chanel fragrance hell-raising
Ni**a my hood full of shell cases for twelve gauges
Let’s see who’s really rob us if you’re city really follow
I’m in the lab writing, ash in a empty Henny bottle
I had a spot in all hoods had my pockets all full
Until rap made me more political like Pac before Suge
This flow got me enemies I don’t speak to half ya
I got weaker rap squads doing features half hard
New cops when I hit the scene popped up with Rick and Heem
Mask no vest just a mop like mister clean
Big BSF N**a
All my niqqas is capos niqqa
Take this Black Soprano sh*t serious, real sh*t
Shout out my niqqa City Boi
My ni**a Rick Hyde
Produced by Shay you a f00l ni**a
2020 mine ni**a
Big DSF Big Griselda in this motherfvcker
I had to come clean ni**as up