[Verse 1] Rest in peace to Black Just Riding through Jamaica, Queens in his black truck Timbs was 40 below, waves to the side of his dome Definition of good nigga, yo Gangsters don’t die, niggas only become immortal Angels don’t only fly, they walk right before you In front of you, it’s foul what this money could do Cash corrupts the loyal I hung with E-Money, too, the fucking truth Fucking with Stretch from Live Squad I could’ve died the same night that Stretch died I just got out of his ride He dropped me off and drove to Springfield November thirtieth, another Queens king killed It fucked me up, y’all I was just trying to make it with Steve Stoute The legal way, drug-free route Back in the days, they was sleeping on us Brooklyn keep on taking it, Manhattan keep on making it Trying to leave Queens out But we was pulling them Beems out, them M3’s out Pumping bringing them D's out Rastas selling chocolate weed inside of a weed house Colosseum downstairs, gold teeth mouth Astoria warriors, 8th Street, twin buildings Vernon, can’t even count the Livingston children Justice in Ravenswood, nice neighborhood Caught sleeping out there, be a wrap, though Bridge niggas be up in Petey’s ten racks, yo A simple bet on a serious cash flow Get money, Manolo, welcome home, Castro Queensbridge unified all I ask for Let’s do it for D.U, say what up to Snatch, yo I just salute real niggas when I pass through
[Verse 2] Niggas is very hungry for that bank robbery Bury money, trying to get to a Benz from a Hyundai The Queens Courthouse right next to the cemetery Niggas’ rap sheets look like obituaries You be starving in Kew Gardens Bolognas and milk from a small carton You could still feel chills from the team On 118, my nigga Ben fly by like it’s a dream His face on his Shirt Kings Laced in a pinky ring, in his black Benz murking Back when Black Rock & Ron was on the map Cheeba in yellow sacks, dope sold in laundromats Thugs bark, getting amped from weed Over the heart of champions, see Ever since back then, a nigga been about the dough (You all know how the story go)
[Verse 3] Any other real niggas in the world besides us, I ask? Probably is, but odds are we’ll never cross paths Put your glass high if you made it out the stash spot And here to tell a story and celebrate the glory Drinks in the air for my niggas not here This how we do, I see you D.U Queens to the heavens, salute the hood legends Crack the Patrón, Hennessy, and Glenlivets Champagne bottles drowning out the sorrows Hope the memories’ll get us through tomorrow I’m a real O.G cause back in nine-three Niggas couldn’t fuck with me, sipping 'gnac since I was little Laid back in a rental Mouth shining, Eddie’s gold caps all up in the dental Nigga getting money now, but you know I’m still mental, but not simple Put your glass high if you made it out the stash spot And here to tell your story and celebrate the glory Drinks in the air for my niggas not here This for the fallen soldiers Hold it down, I told ya Pop another bottle and keep the smoke rolling
[Verse 4] Watch the con realest channel his mom’s spirit Goosebumps cover me, mother’s here, I could feel her Blood of Christ covers me, our savior and healer Drug prices up or down, I know a few dealers And some accident murderers, they act like they killed on purpose Liars brag they put work in You ain’t mean to murk him, your gun’s a virgin Better stay on point, if not, it’s curtains Bebo Posse reincarnated through me, probably If music money didn’t stop me I never claimed to be the toughest Though I’m to blame for a few faces reconstructed It’s the game that we was stuck with Now I’m the only black in the club with rich Yuppie kids Sad thing, this is the top, but where the hustlers went? No familiar faces around, ain’t gotta grab the musket It’s all safe and sound, champagne by the bucket Where them niggas I shouted out on my first shit? Bo cooking blow, fucking slay that, where Turkey went? Old videos show niggas that was murdered since Another reason to get further bent Put your glass high if you made it out the stash spot And here to tell your story and celebrate the glory Drinks in the air for my niggas not here This for the fallen soldiers Hold it down, I told ya Pop another bottle and keep the smoke rollingTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
