Chris Faust - 54 to Barclays lyrics

rate me

Hey, Rome wasn’t built in a day

Patience I tell my niggas while I sip my Earl Grey

Slower the motion, I bring commotion to this young shit

Thinking that she bait

And I should make her ass pay ‘cause this foul shit is crazy

I leave before the big screen, bottles and naked women

Thinking they’ve been seduced

And I come from Queens, too, princess at 16

Drew more than the sixteen, born, breaded on Flushing

With their scrap pics and Phantoms

And ex drug dealers who met their end in a Phantom

And robbed him in his sleep lil’ niggas, they say I end ‘em

And …is another hungry nigga in the hood

And they say that men who don’t wish only wish that if they could

They would take it, alive at twenty something, dog

I made it past them clockers and I’m clocking in

They in my space, it’s steady taking all my oxygen

I need to breathe, time to breeze and that’s before I put my draws on

All black tux, gold watches go with the four doors

Short skinny tie so chicks know where they’re chores go

Ripping at the old school, looking like they know you

Respect is everything and everything is when they show you

And she don’t know your name but still willing to blow you

Code 45 bag, class act, play ground

54 to Barclay, backpacking for spare ground

Fast money, fast cars, what you after?

And I don’t know you but I’m tryina get more out of life than what you after

Top that, top chef, be cooking

More shows, more hoes, they looking

More crack, more cops in Brooklyn

I’m just tryina keep my soul clean

Man, we just tryina keep my hoes lean

Part of me fucked the J, arresting those who up their way

…be making cake by keeping all my niggas safe

Question who was bluff and fake, destiny or fucking fate

I’m tryina do in one year what Barrack Obama did in eight

…reefer, I’m killing zeroes

It’s funny what these lil’ niggas calling heroes

That’s all, pack it on the brim, shorty, sneak a fellow

I’m in the zone with the black kush cigarillos

You see, back when my pops was still ill for my arm

I feel bad for your soul ‘cause you can’t be honest

So I graduated top class, class full of honors

So I could sit with Yale chicks bragging about my commas

And my momma always told me, you are dog or you aren’t

The have versus the have nots

You say your life’s a bitch but she say you have cock

And that’s the face groupies give when I tour the block

But your highness, saw you up with that coronas

With your mom and little grinder

Sweat pants, knicks and Lady Gaga

You the finest but here’s the problem

I worked all day to rock this new shit

YSL, DaVinci crew knit

Cop this ace and dance the music

Yeah, hear the true whisper what about

Fast money, fast cars, what you after?

And I don’t know you but I’m tryina get more out of life than what you after

Top that, top chef, be cooking

More shows, more hoes, they looking

More crack, more cops in Brooklyn

I’m just tryina keep my soul clean

Man, we just tryina keep my hoes lean

I guess whatever is the new nice

Half ass game is the new mic

What if Russell never went to work?

What if Jesus wasn’t rebirth?

Cold shots of Jameson neat

I hustle seconds from the Barclays stadium seats

Netflix, watching documentaries …

And they all say the same thing, die, defeat

Fast money, fast cars, what you after?

And I don’t know you but I’m tryina get more out of life than what you after

Top that, top chef, be cooking

More shows, more hoes, they looking

More crack, more cops in Brooklyn

I’m just tryina keep my soul clean

Man, we just tryina keep my hoes lean

But your highness, saw you up with that coronas

With your mom and little grinder

Sweat pants, knicks and Lady Gaga

You the finest but here’s the problem

I worked all day to rock this new shit

YSL, DaVinci crew knit

Cop this ace and dance the music

Yeah, hear the true whisper what about