Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Fast Life, artist - J-Love. Album song Legends Vol 3, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 27.04.2009
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: J Love Enterprise, Money Maker Entertainment
Song language: English
Fast Life |
The time has come, we gotta expand, the whole operation |
Distribution, New York, to Chicago, L.A. |
We gotta set our own market, and enforce it Verse One: Kool G Rap |
Ch&agne wishes of caviar dreams? |
a penis didn’t cream? |
With sales of fish scales from triple beams I gleam |
Livin the live of rowdy packin fifty cali’s |
Rockin lizard Bally’s while we do our drug deal in a dark alley |
Up in casinos just me and my dino primo |
Pushin beam-o's then parlay in Reno with two fly latinos |
Nas, he runs the whole staff, we count mad for seen bad |
We’ve seen a half a milli dashin out there on the Queens half |
Three major players gettin papers by the layers |
And those that portray us on the block get rocked like Domateus |
Fakers get used to shootin targets, soon as the dark hits |
Front on the drug market, bodies get rolled up in a carpet |
Those that cheat us try to beat us we got hookers with heaters |
that’ll stray pop and put more shells in your top than Adidas |
Da leaders, lookin straight crimy in our Giorgio Armani’s |
You wanna harm me and Nas you gots ta come get through a whole army |
The celo rollers money folders sippin bola holdin mad payola |
Slangin a Coke without the Cola |
Me and black don’t fake jacks but we might sling one |
It ain’t no shame in our game we do our thing son |
Livin the fast life, in fast cars |
Everywhere we go, people know who we are |
A team from out of Queens with the american dream |
So we’re plottin up a scheme to get the seven figure cream |
Verse Two: Nas Escobar |
Yo I got, guns from Italy, smoke trees, considerably |
Mid-state and Green it seems, is where all my niggaz be The ghetto misery, shootouts and liquor stores |
A perpendicular, angle of the clout war |
Police searchin up my Lex over who’s petrol |
My tech blows straight off the roof and tests yo’respect though |
But dough don’t respect me, it got me handcuffed |
The rough life, I just be up nights, breathin with scuffed Nike’s |
Pour my beers for my peoples under the stairs |
These years I got they names in my swears |
Poppin Cristal like it’s my first child, lickin shots, holiday style |
Rockin Steele sweaters, Wallaby down |
Twenty-four carats, countin cabbage, like the arabs |
The marriage of me and the mic is just like magic |
Elegant performance, bubble Lex full insurance |
Guzzlin Guinness shootin catchin cases concurrent |
It’s Nas, seven hundred wives, King Solomon size |
We on the rise, me and G, ghetto wise guys |
The luciano Frankie Aiel, Bugsy Seagal |
Green papers with eagles from a tray that’s illegal |
Yeahhhahhyeahhh, get this money, yeahhh |
Brother you’ve got to make it happen |
When you’re living in the fast life, heyy yeah yeah |
Verse Three: G Rap, Nas |
Aiyyo my lifestyle’s exquisite, yayo like a blizzard |
It’s choir attire standin on ground with one pivot |
Two players rockin silk blazers and diamonds like glaciers |
Lands with namebrand seats reclinin like in spaceships |
Bodies on ice |
Livin trife, rollin fixed up dice |
Gamblin Grants |
Handlin st&s |
Moves are sheist |
My bankrolls, got the cops comin in plain clothes |
Tryin to arraign again cause of our fame that’s how the game goes |
True |
Right out the slammer with the fame and glamour |
Cookin up grams with Arm &Hammer supplyin scramblers in Alabama |
Rub out faces and leave no traces |
My aces got mad body cases, preserve spaces at the horse races |
Servin us Dom P my cliquo |
Dimes with magnifico, puttin in cut inside? |
perico? |
Heat for foes, shoppin sprees with my fleet for clothes |
in Carribean suites, deep, rippin beats with flows |
Aiyyo, we went from standin on blocks, without some socks |
sellin rocks, to pickin up stock and boat docks with glocks |
and got poppy seed fields with million dollar bills |
Packin all the blue steel we keeps it real inside the battlefield |
Yeah so here’s a toast to the funds and things |
Gun smokes in rings, graveyards is buried with kings |