Lyrics Fast Lane - 4kmicheal , Butch Dawson

From the north side of the east district
I'm comin' live, I'm at the spot I love when the fiends visit
I seen a lot but I don't speak on it
Yeah that's my mans and we go back but I can't speak on it
I like my drugs served wit freaks on it
I ain't tryina' get high unless I end my night asleep
In it
This life it hurt me in the worst way
I rather be dead I cannot lie that's on my worst days

Comin' from the fast lane
Runnin' up a bag babe
Runnin' up this racks Ye
Stackin' off this thrax Ye
Comin' from the fast lane
Runnin' up a bag babe
Runnin' up this racks Ye
Stackin' off this thrax Ye

I be in the fast lane
Turning up in Massachusetts like a pats game
Spent five hundred on this bitch don't know her last name
When I leave she throw a fit this bitch love to complain
Louis V Umbrella it ain't gotta rain
Covered up in gold just like shabba ranks
If your girl on me I wonder what her momma think
Penetrate that pussy like I'm in the paint

Chains full of boulders
Do it for the culture
Glock with a holster
This guap look like a ogre
Got a parrot on my shoulder
Watch for the vaulters
Everything is loaded
Cant see me when I roll in

Comin' from the fast lane
Runnin' up a bag babe
Runnin' up this racks ye
Stackin' off this thrax Ye
Comin' from the fast lane
Runnin' up a bag babe
Runnin' up this racks ye
Stackin' off this thrax Ye