Heart in Quartertime - Schuyler Fisk

Maybe you remember, maybe you're locked away Maybe we'll meet again some better day, some better life Mmh, Jonathon Fisk speaks with his fists Can't let me walk home on my own And just like a knife down on my life So many ways to set me right It's such a long way home Ooh, it's how the story goes It's like atom bombs and blunt razors Atom bombs and blunt razors Jonathon then says, "It's a sin" But he don't think twice 'cause to him Religion don't mean a thing Ooh, it's just another way to be right wing Just like a knife down on my life So many ways to set it right Oh, that's how it goes That's how the story goes It's such a long way home Ooh, you're too old to understand 'Cause I just want to get home now I just want to get home now Jonathon's right down on my life So many ways to set me right Oh, on the long walk home That's how the story goes And Jonathon Fisk, always a risk Tells me he counts my teeth every night I want to get them all back now I want to get them all back I want to turn him around, yeah Ooh, to turn him around Ooh-ooh, turn him around

Roll that s***, light that s***, smoke it Roll that s***, light that s***, smoke it Roll, roll, roll that s***, light that s***, smoke it Roll that s***, light that s***, smoke it Yeah, fast or slow mo, oh no, Meth done made a killing Call the po-po, oh n***** is squealing, oh, y'all ain't feeling N***** no more, the bigger they are, harder they go though Good p**** put a hump in my back like Quasimoto Hah, my sex ain't h*** season vet, hold the adobo Got rappers on that low carb diet, y'all can't get no dough I keep a low pro, file, excuse me as I get s**** out Put hands on these n*****, then put the roach out Go head, I'm wishing you would, ask if it's good Man, this Tarzan s*** in the woods, my s*** is hood, b**** That means I'm hood rich, telling you lies Straight out the pull-pit, it's like Merrill Lynch I'm on that bulls*** Real s***, money come first, and even worse You need all your toes and fingers to count up what I'm worth, t**** So when I blow a smoke cloud in your face, just take a hint D****, you crowding my space, it's Mr. Meth, pa It's 4: 20, roll up, n**** getting smoked out No seeds, California w*** have you choked out No doubt, roll up, which rims s***** out 4: 20 mean you either roll up or roll out Roll that s***, light that s***, smoke it Roll that s***, light that s***, smoke it So on and so on, I flow on, power to our people Get your s**** on and I'm so gone, off, that s*** d***** Hard to hold on, but hold on, it's like I'm Pretty Toney With that robe, got terrorist shook, because I'm so bomb The hood, put, me in position, I'm in the kitchen With that cook book, the service I'm giving, birds they vision Not a good look, told ya my n****, Tical deliver Or crook, lots of a**** to kick, wish I had a bigger foot Yeah, taking it there, hating who care Y'all stay out my mental, I got killas waiting in here To get you, as I sharpen my pencils, tear apart instrumentals Fuck it, y'all n***** is p****, so is the d*** that sent you RZA, we done it again, Co-D occasion Here's to short skirts and Ol' Dirt McGirt, okay, then Let's get it popping, like it ain't nothing to get it popping The big and rotten's the city, too good to be forgotten It's 4: 20, roll up, n**** getting smoked out No seeds, California w*** have you choked out No doubt, roll up, which rims s***** out 4: 20 mean you either roll up or roll out It's 4: 20, roll up, n**** getting smoked out No seeds, California w*** have you choked out No doubt, roll up, which rims s***** out 4: 20 mean you either roll up or roll out Roll that s***, light that s***, smoke it The rap game won't like me You can tell that a n**** is shiesty If I die, my second born'll be like me, slide d*** to your wifey Never know your baby boy just might be Quick to rob a jack, he's so icey, stay dressed to kill From the Hill, never ran, never will Attitude, like, fuck you still, I see you missing the point This is not a rap song, you get clapped on B****** break the bone, like the joint, call you out your name Disrespect ya moms, spit on your dame Go public, then, s*** on your fame, you overlooking the fact Where you from, is where we at and y'all don't want no, parts, in that that Caught your verse for sale, but real n***** don't shoot and tell We'd rather do the time and rot in the cell Roll that s*** The inner outer state, bi-coastal smoker Inhale, Cali piff with a swift of glaucoma Black jeans, black Timbs, black Benz roaster Smoke rise, out the sun roof when I roll up Verrazano, with no relation to Gravano Carlo, shots are hollow, still cop a bottle And pour some out, moment of silence, then I swallow I'm still alive and still the sun'll come out tomorrow Shine, shine, shine and grind, 'cause it's money on my mind And I'm moving like my life is on the line For the bulls***, I really got no time, a full clip Really gon' let ya n***** know what's on my mind When ya getting out of line, have them choppers lit up You won't need a camera phone to get the picture Chalk down, tape around, body bag zipped up Carlo Verrazano, you can call me mister It's 4: 20, roll up, n**** getting smoked out No seeds, California w*** have you choked out No doubt, roll up, which rims s***** out 4: 20 mean you either roll up or roll out

Chorus: P.L.O. style, Buddha monks with the Owls P.L.O. style, Buddha monks with the Owls P.L.O. style, Buddha monks with the Owls P.L.O. style... Verse One: Method Man Here comes the ruckus, the motherfucking ruckus Thousands of cut-throats and crumb-snatching fuckers Straight from the brain, I'll be givin you the pain, anger Coming from the 36th Chamber, Bang! Tical, hitting with the Buddha-Fist style Shotgun slamming in your chest piece, plow! Brain, is blown all over the terrain Like a man without no arms you can't hang Time for a change of the guard You've been arrested for lyric fraud now you barred For real, check it, I pull strings like B.B. King on guitar I'm the true fist of the North Star! Verse Two: Carlton Fisk, Method Man Ooooooooh! What a tangled web we weave When first we practice to deceive Guns be clicking, running with my clan we be sticking Whatever, my street family stays together Represent what I invent, Killah Hill Resident, rest in peace to my nigga Two Cent The street life is the only life I know I live by the code style it's mad P.L.O... Iranian thoughts are covered like an Arabian Grab the nigga who on the spot and put a nine to his cranium I.can't... get no satisfaction, niggas won't be lasting Long, unless they get protection, for real Strong, coming with my clan so what's happening Commercial rap, hate it with a passion The M-E-T-H-O-D got me drinking O.E. all night in a M.P.V. Just maxing, looking for hoes, you know relaxing Bitches know the hour it be time for some action P.L.O., peace to that nigga Barryano Word up, let's take him to the bridge, Verrazano Chorus