Quarterback

[Intro] (Dun Deal, hey) (Oh lala, Shaz) Ayy (Yo, Mannie) [Chorus] I'm straight up off the block, hopped in a foreign, push the top back I’ve been hustlin' for a long time, and I can't stop that Big Glock, I’m that nigga, best believe it, yeah, them all facts I can't trust these niggas or these bitches 'cause they all rats All that lyin' in your rhymes, boy, you know it's all cap Kenan, Kel, twin nines, hit your ass with all of that I hit your bitch from the side, then I had her crawlin' back, yeah I be ballin' all the time, I'm point guard and the quarterback [Verse 1] Beat the case and got my .40 back, they like, "Glock, where that lawyer at?" I’ve been broke, and ain’t goin' back, I just ran up them racks again Yeah, just made a bag again, Benjamin Franklin my best friend And Nina she gon’ always be my bitch, she ride until the end, yeah [Bridge] I've been a hustlin' since a lil' one (Yeah) Eight-figure deal ’cause I'm still independent (Yeah) And ain't nobody fuckin' with the kid, that's for real, son And ain't nobody fuckin' with the kid, yeah, gang can't wait to kill some (Yeah) I've been a hustlin' since a lil' one (Yeah) Eight-figure deal 'cause I'm still independent (Yeah) And ain't nobody fuckin' with the kid, that's for real, son And ain't nobody fuckin' with the kid, yeah, gang can't wait to kill some (Yeah) [Verse 2] Still money hungry, right now on a mill' run Told the majors, "Give me ten or more and then the deal done", yeah Bitch, I be ballin', ballin', Spalding and Wilson I took the diamonds out my mouth and put some mobile on my arm, yeah Choppas 'round the house, we chop shit up where I come from, yeah I live up in a mansion but I still be in the slums, yeah When you really gettin' money, it's some pros and it's some cons Yep I'm in the streets not industry, these niggas nothin' but punks [Chorus] I'm straight up off the block, hopped in a foreign, push the top back (Yeah, yeah, yeah) I've been hustlin' for a long time, and I can't stop that Big Glock, I'm that nigga, best believe it, yeah, them all facts I can't trust these niggas or these bitches 'cause they all rats (Uh-huh) All that lyin' in your rhymes, boy, you know it's all cap Kenan, Kel, twin nines, hit your ass with all of that (Bah) I hit your bitch from the side, then I had her crawlin' back, yeah I be ballin' all the time, I'm point guard and the quarterback