Lyrics Fitta Happier - Quakers, Guilty Simpson, MED

Fitta Happier

Hey yo!
…let's go!
I’m a fugitive, running form my past
How long will freedom last?
I’m swinging knuckles of brass
motivated, hustle for cash
I’m puffing the hash,
leave a rapper on the ground with his jugular slashed
And laugh at him, it’s humorous
A lot of MCs got one style, me I got numerous
I stand out, so nobody is confusing us
I’m way better, cold winners beige leathers
Black pistols, red eyes, blue jeans
White widow caked up, new green!
Travel across borders across waters
Being short on my cash flow is a tall order!
Your style’s shallow like fountains when they toss quarters
Wishing the way to be the pick in the day
Mother fuckers will care to hear the shit you would say
I step through the door
Sharper than a blade form a Moor
Success be more like the…
what a mess!
I ain’t gotta brag when I double cash!
Come easy like a breezy with a troubled past
Still, by popular demand
Return like a shirt when you wore it with a tag
Still found in the C-U-T
Eyes low, tae bo, no SUV
C A to the D, what up?
talk shit
The shoe fit, equipe
Get your tongue shoot string damn
Stay sound, as I crack jaws
You lock doors!
We break through the boards in the drywall
By far we the highlight
you want an extra catch shade from the spotlight, right
No pressure, respect just the best
To headline the bill like rent from your next check!