Nas Uhh. (yeah, yeah, yeah) Q.B. since 1933 (no doubt) To nine-six (nine-six motherfucker) Check the shit Nine-six, Escobar 600 Check the shit My mind's set, son got wet, I'm vexed really They snatched off his Rolex, smacked his bitch silly Why niggas actin' illy? Word to Will, he 'bout to feel it I feel it, he shoulda been dealt with it Them niggas sour, they put to much flour in their coke And got the nerve to wonder WHY THEY'RE BROKE While we was gleamin', niggas was schemin' Seen the ill Beamers beamin' Triple-beam and doublin' cream had 'em fiendin' To get they fingers on the dosa, I called Sosa "Sosa, these niggas hit the God, bring the toaster Meet me in the Bridge, I'm bout to go loca" Left my rat beggin' me to stay and stroke her He came through with two fly bitches, Venus and Vicious With two MACs inside the Volvo, what up God, I'm still sober I need some Henn to bend me over, my nigga Hav gotta soldier It's gettin' down, it's goin' down kid (I got this, I got this) I heard he might not live, I'm holdin' back tears Told these broads to put it in gear With two females that don't smile, diggin' they style, yo What up son? These niggas done started somethin' wild You know the clique well, Rhamel with the gold in his grill Tried to get a name, holding the steel I paid attention to the females Maintained bitches when it get real Sos' pulled me close and told me the deal He said both hoes'll peel Spray shots and reload and still handle the wheel Point 'em out, smoke a Phil' then chill I laid back, Escobar status Knowin' The Firm got it cornered, we on it, shit we was born with Spark the lye, Q.B.C. yo it's do or die In this, business of trifeness I finesse this, Boyardee, we chef shit Perfect shit, Albert Einstein minds connect wit' Dangerous sons, step back let the TEC lift Lift you up, bless you with a shorty then we set you up Spark the lye, Q.B.C. yo it's do or die In this, business of trifeness We finesse this, Boyardee, we chef shit Perfect shit, Albert Einstein minds connect wit' Dangerous sons, step back let the TEC lift Lift you up, bless you with a shorty then we set you up Hold it right there, pull over That nigga right there inside the Rover I knew he'd be right here, I told you Let's get him now, look at him smile, ice Bulova Polo pullover, big links and rockin' boulders He's stuntin', after he left my man like that Without a fair chance to fight back, but I'll be right back He never seen us, Sos' gave the MAC to Venus And Vicious, lookin' delicious, handle yo' business And step to him, shake your ass, try to screw him Do what ya gotta do to get to him A tight Parasuco with young faces Can turn niggas Buttafuoco, of all ages They was amused by the way they walked, way they talked Only if they knew these girls had sprayed New York If they had to, heard him ask Venus, "Could I have you?" He jumped out a Jeep, heard her tell him "Don't grab, boo" They started chattin', was only bout a minute, flat when They jumped in the back of the Jeep laughin' We followed them pollyin', he thought the hoes were Somalian Probably when they hit the Holiday Inn I grabbed the phone and called the Mobb and them We laid low about a hour or so, these bitches movin' too slow We both holdin', what if them wild hoes started foldin'? Sosa said "Say no more", we started rollin' Before we got in they must have shot him, security wildin' There the girls go, hurry up we out In the 940, me, Sosa and two shorties The punk niggas got murdered in the orgy Spark the lye, Q.B.C. yo it's do or die In this, business of trifeness I finesse this, Boyardee, we chef shit Perfect shit, Albert Einstein minds connect wit' Dangerous sons, step back let the TEC lift Lift you up, bless you with a shorty then we set you up Q.B.C., Queensbridge motherfucker Roping niggas up Cause our clique is thick Another day, another dollar More money, more murder Fuck this shit, Q.B. up in the house