Chris Faust – 54 to Barclays Lyrics

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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

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