Fitta Happier - Quakers, Guilty Simpson, MED

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!