Funkmaster Flex - QBG lyrics

(Feat. Big Kap, Kool G. Rap, Prodigy) (Funkmaster Flex) PRODIGY, KOOL G RAP (Prodigy) n***a, I got cash n***a I had tooken care of real quick I ain't wettin that (Chorus x2: Prodigy) Yo what's the deal, you a thug or what We cut you up, n***a we'll f** you up What be the drill, we the Queens gangstas Infamous mobstas, you a wa*ksta See it's like, twenty-inch wheels We pull off lots wit the newest hot sh**, we so ill Spend hundreds on our meals Thousands on our outfits, half a mil on the houses For thrills, f** women in they high heels Till they max out and pa** out from how it feels My n***as win their appeals (why?) Cuz high-paid lawyers get broke wit big bills Stash boxes conceal the big mills So if we got problems, somebody get k**ed And that's how it is, there's nothin you can do about it Dead men tell no tales And if you think a n***a gon' squeal, put up his bail And twist that n***a when he touch down, huh For real, I don't need no sh-ells I got guns, and M-6 peel, y'all best chill (Chorus x2) (Kool G Rap) I'm grown from blastin You cartoon goons wit no room for ration Flippin the soonest fashion Booms in the room is flashin Sip to your tune wit a pa**ion Zoom in a action, doom wit a Mac 10 Neighbors tune into the booms when I clap at their men But I ain't goin back to the penn You witness me n***a, I'm clappin again Knock your brain right on your wrap fringe, lappin Make em crawl out the back of the Benz like Jacklyn FBI we bafflin Grab the straps get the gaffling BGF Click, n***a we rep sh** Respect it, before your whole squad get deflected My tec spit, leave you runnin wit chest hits, red drips Fallin like rain drops, when them things pop We bang glocks, flight be comin from Bangco*k Make the pain stop Aim co*k, flame at your top till your frame drop You in your name in the lot, flat on the strange block (Chorus x4: w/slight variations)