This is a song about "Quarter"

Callin' her up on the phone, quarter-dime telly nigga,

Got all the black bitches mad cause my main bitch vanilla

Though surrounded by an entourage, i feel like i'm alone

I turned down a quarter mil to pitch a mobile phone

Smoking on that quarter o jay, pop a blotter

I can do that to a nigga and make a pool on her

And so the muscle flow is something you can't get no muzzel for

Be peddling on bikes to the border flipping bitches like a quarter

Oughta eat the bitch with salt and wash it down with a gallon of water

Music now days is torture,bloody knuckle with a quarter,

Fuck a quarter, i wish you well being

Shawty look half indian and never say a thing