"The Quiet Don" lyrics
You gotta survive, this ultimate test, 2020 been a muthafucka tho
Man we still here, and I need mines
They call me Russell cause I'm hustling, they pay tax
A fresh zip from Danny in Montana, let me face that
Heard he had a case from this place I ran way back
Turned his water off, he said some shit he can't take back
Half a mil a day from one spot, do the math, cuddie
I can never trust a man that never got a bag from me
Late brought up on these new Yeezys
I just turned another spot out, that's too easy
Watch as the empire fall apart, it's too greedy
This bag smell nuts, got my grinder all greasy
Europeans everywhere, toss me a duffel
There's bodies on this block but I brought me a couple
My hundreds smell like candy cause my bitch been getting busy
Talking numbers all day, moving money is getting tricky
I can't believe I used to wonder who my real friends are
I'm fresh off a jet, left a hundred mil in Denmark
Do I really miss a mailman? Ask again when them bails land
And I'm the one to blame when that price is gone
And they wonder why they call me the Quiet Don
I need TECs on each one, bags I keep some
30 round mag, tow tags, don't need one
We control traffic, your man can't eat none
Get your cash ready, when I land, the heat come
I need TECs on each one, bags I keep some
30 round mag, tow tags, don't need one
We control traffic, your man can't eat none
Get your cash ready, when I land, the heat come
Here we go
It's too scary and you living in a fairy tale
It all tastes the same, your bags trash and it barely sell
New shit every week, yeah they know me very well
Fucking with the plants, left resin on my steering wheel
If they set me up, then they going out like Barry Seal
Good days, barely new and I clear the mill
If we go to war then, we gon do the long game
They don't want pain, they crying over small change
I got mud on the bottom of my rare bottoms
Used to dig hoes till I found all my bread right in
We were going crazy till the feds got him
He bailed out and then his best friend shot him
Sent a bunch of raw cuts out to Mexico
Six star, nine to you, but only if the temp is low
Playing with my family, I'ma turn em to a vegetable
Top dogs style, he a whole nother level tho
Everything run through me, I'ma need my cut on each
No matter if I'm right or wrong, they all listen to the Quiet Don
I need TECs on each one, bags I keep some
30 round mag, tow tags, don't need one
We control traffic, your man can't eat none
Get your cash ready, when I land, the heat come
I need TECs on each one, bags I keep some
30 round mag, tow tags, don't need one
We control traffic, your man can't eat none
Get your cash ready, when I land, the heat come
Here we go
Man we still here, and I need mines
They call me Russell cause I'm hustling, they pay tax
A fresh zip from Danny in Montana, let me face that
Heard he had a case from this place I ran way back
Turned his water off, he said some shit he can't take back
Half a mil a day from one spot, do the math, cuddie
I can never trust a man that never got a bag from me
Late brought up on these new Yeezys
I just turned another spot out, that's too easy
Watch as the empire fall apart, it's too greedy
This bag smell nuts, got my grinder all greasy
Europeans everywhere, toss me a duffel
There's bodies on this block but I brought me a couple
My hundreds smell like candy cause my bitch been getting busy
Talking numbers all day, moving money is getting tricky
I can't believe I used to wonder who my real friends are
I'm fresh off a jet, left a hundred mil in Denmark
Do I really miss a mailman? Ask again when them bails land
And I'm the one to blame when that price is gone
And they wonder why they call me the Quiet Don
I need TECs on each one, bags I keep some
30 round mag, tow tags, don't need one
We control traffic, your man can't eat none
Get your cash ready, when I land, the heat come
I need TECs on each one, bags I keep some
30 round mag, tow tags, don't need one
We control traffic, your man can't eat none
Get your cash ready, when I land, the heat come
Here we go
It's too scary and you living in a fairy tale
It all tastes the same, your bags trash and it barely sell
New shit every week, yeah they know me very well
Fucking with the plants, left resin on my steering wheel
If they set me up, then they going out like Barry Seal
Good days, barely new and I clear the mill
If we go to war then, we gon do the long game
They don't want pain, they crying over small change
I got mud on the bottom of my rare bottoms
Used to dig hoes till I found all my bread right in
We were going crazy till the feds got him
He bailed out and then his best friend shot him
Sent a bunch of raw cuts out to Mexico
Six star, nine to you, but only if the temp is low
Playing with my family, I'ma turn em to a vegetable
Top dogs style, he a whole nother level tho
Everything run through me, I'ma need my cut on each
No matter if I'm right or wrong, they all listen to the Quiet Don
I need TECs on each one, bags I keep some
30 round mag, tow tags, don't need one
We control traffic, your man can't eat none
Get your cash ready, when I land, the heat come
I need TECs on each one, bags I keep some
30 round mag, tow tags, don't need one
We control traffic, your man can't eat none
Get your cash ready, when I land, the heat come
Here we go
