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RU: 0-9 А Б В Г Д Е Ж З И К Л М Н О П Р С Т У Ф Х Ц Ч Ш Щ Э Ю Я
EN: A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z

Текст (слова) песни: Lord, Black, Littles, Craig G., Chaos - QB Finest * Queensbridge: The Album

[Intro]
G.O.D. What`s up man?
Word up son
I`m goin uptown. What you doin?
I`ma leave this motherfucking money
That`s hot shit
Let`s go son
QB shit
Fuck everybody

[Black]
Who make a better entrance than a QB squad
From guns, cracks to tracks we some QB stars
Ain`t no question `bout who we are
Straight poems from Shae, Nas to the bar we keepin` the hood glowin
It`s Mecca how the hood`s glowin and lives changin`
Little dunns runnin` the streets with Macs blazin`
Young cats runnin` the streets with soap blazin`
Now y`all know why the biggest hood could be labeled amazin`
We stand up running songs we step to the plate
Guaranteed to make ya hot like Kuwait
I went from toppin` on plates
to hittin` the Ave. and puttin up A
Now it`s thoughts, pencils, and papers provin` I`m great
Same nigga in the hood or tourin the states
Violator have to raise the crime rate, check my mind state
you could see it`s on a whole different level
It`s Ill Will I front Queensbridge rebel...

[Littles]
A `78 baby comin` up in the hood crazy
Watchin` crack bubblin` in mid-80s now I live it daily
Young ones with guns cockin the hammer
Speakin` hood grammar hustlin` cracks dodgin` the slammer
All 31s get funds runnin` raps for they dunns
Quiet Storm so you won`t hear it come heavy metal excident
I got some seditives to make ya`ll start relaxin`
Ill Will now waitin` for the chance to keep the dough stackin`
QB niggas waitin` for they anthem
Look black play the cut like the phantom out front niggas
Catch me on the 40 sideway to blunt have some liquor in a cup
Crime Fam` livin` up this beat is excellent I feel it too much
Fuck around somebody might get touched
I`m bravehearted you get tackled on the fifty line yardage
If you come against my whole team of starters mic murder slaughters

[Lord] (Chorus)
We grow grey in the same place
Walk the same block, squeeze the same glock
We gotta eat for niggas that don`t sleep
We hustlin` in sleep catch you permanent creeps
We brake bread from fucking the same bitch
We reppin` the same clique for that QB shit
We mos` real my people is mos` ill
Nigga take it how you feel get shot for real

[Chaos]
I tripped and fell many times but rose to my feet
Fo-fo longs concealed in my no face sleeves
To my life slip away one step from a grave
And steady took away my youth for locked me in a bink
Man, I was too young to understand what life means
See y`all gon` understand a story of thug that like things
Can`t express the rush I get when busting Macs
How adrenaline flows when the hammer kicks back
I know it`s more than life in the hood
But I still spit stories of my past ways
It`s like a glass maze
Six blocks caged in I was razed in
The illest of fond, the realest in dunns
QB to the death of me, I suerve and ride
Till` my physical is stiff and my sould is on the other side
Mo` money, mo` murder, mo` homicide
Fuck wit` QB man you better have that allibi

[Craig G.]
I`m from a planet called QB where drama runs deep
And gunshots wake you up out of your sleep like an alarm clock
In `84 top ten that was a bomb spot
Practiced playin` ball in the wrist I have a strong shot
At 4 o`clock I`ll rob you under the tressle
Came from out of town actin` special
That`s why I see you fake leaders, and snake breaders
Shit me and the Bravehearts go back like saint weeders
Ball bustaz and brain beaters
You ain`t worth the coins in the change meter
On every block and bridge we flame heaters
Hollow points for you laying cheaters
Waiting till` your main day needers
Shit, Craig G.
Naturally and tragically obligated to bust ass
In the clutch like Kurt Warner throwin` touch pass
Don`t believe anything that you read inside them smut rags
Half of these rappers sound like smoke twenty dust bags
Probably did, you ain`t holdin` the kid that`ll bust back
When drama is on I know for a fact so trust that

 

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