Fastlane

E-40E-40 

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E-40

Earl Stevens (born November 15, 1967) better known by his stage name E-40, is an American rapper, entrepreneur, and investor from Vallejo, California. He is a member of the rap group The Click, and the founder of Sick Wid It Records. He has released over ten albums, appeared on numerous movie soundtracks, and has also done guest appearances on a host of other rap albums. Initially an underground artist, his 1995 solo album In a Major Way opened him up to a wider audience. Beginning in 1998, he began collaborating with more mainstream rappers outside of the Bay Area. He rose to even higher mainstream popularity in 2006 with his single Tell Me When to Go which was produced by Lil Jon. more »

Year:

2005

4:32

60 Views

Playlists:

#1

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Living the life in the quick lane only the strongest survive
These streets will swallow you up mayne, and eat you alive
Can't be no poodle, run tuck your tail and hide
They'll spaghetti your noodle, mayne, element of surprise
It's going around mayne, death in the air
Better not be scared cause hyenas can smell fear
There's not a lot of love but it's a whole lot of hate
Beware of your surroundings they're starving they ain't ate
The lick of fire awaits for those with no souls
Hot like a stove, hotter than hot coals
I'n not a knock, I'm the server, got hella clients waitin'
F*ck the FDA; the food and drug administration
That's the thought process of a soil soldier
6's on the [?] pistola, spinach and yola
I'm talking realer dope money this hustler makin'
And I don't cattin' and capin' and cupcakin'
I go bad on a batch man, I ain't playin'
Knock a broad without even lifting a hand
Ain't even gotta touch her, mind games mayne
Brain f*ck her, I ain't lyin'
Never been a bitch-made motherfucker just a professional sucker-ducker
I'm one nigga rich motherfucker, courthouses and diamond clusters
Fucks with hustlers, not no busters allowed around us
No sap suckers, snitches, bitches, or punk cowards

[Chorus]
Yeah, nigga having thangs
Fancy cars and rings
This hustler bout' his chains
Nigga really out here doin' it? (Doin it)
Claimin' hella fame
Everybody know my name
I'm deep off in this game
Whatever money that I get to (Whatcha livin?)

In the fastlane (x8)

Looking up with greenbacks on your mind is a good sign
My name ringing like a high school bell, like a church chime
This ain't chameleon, but go get a glass of wine
Listen to me preach my rhyme, sit back and recline
I'm too real to be unreal, too truthful to be fake
Daddy and mommy went they're separate ways when I was eight
But it made me great, more stronger and god-willing
A few years later, I'm worth a few million
Top billing, killing em' with my independent grip
Got rid of my digital scale and started making hits
Flipping all kinds of whips, Benzes, Cutlass, and Lexus's
Me and the clique of St. Charles, god was blessing us
Successfulness, all praises due to Allah
Jesus, Jahova, the most highest almighty god
Reverend Thurman and Mother Thurman, I miss you much
I know you up in heaven watching over us
If I can help people, that's what they taught me to do
Can't save the world, but I can help save a few
People talk behind my back, laugh and smiled all in my face
Said my voice was too squeaky and my style was a disgrace
Now I'm hittin', they ain't laughin' all the way to the bank
Making deposits and promoting my own track
Backing with my nose in the air, like my shit don't stank
Came in the game blindfolded, stressin', guessin', walking the plank

[Chorus]

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