I rap for listeners, blunt heads, fly ladies and prisoners Henessey holders and old school niggas, then I be dissin' a Unofficial that smoke woolie thai I dropped out of Kooley High, gassed up by a coke head cutie pie Jungle survivor, fuck who's the liver My man put the battery in my back, a difference from Energizer Sentence begins indented, with formality My duration's infinite, money wise or physiology Poetry, that's a part of me, retardedly bop I drop the ancient manifested hip-hop, straight off the block I reminisce on park jams, my man was shot for his sheep coat Childhood lesson make me see him drop in my weed smoke It's real, grew up in trife life, did times or white lines The hype vice, murderous night times, and knife fights invite crimes Chill on the block with Cognac gold strap With my peeps that's into drug money, market into rap No sign of the beast in the blue Chrysler, I guess that means peace For niggaz no sheisty vice to just snipe ya Start off the dice-rollin' mats for craps to Ceelo With side bets, I roll a deuce, nothin' below (Peace God!) Peace God, now the shit is explained I'm takin' niggas on a trip straight through memory lane It's like that y'all, it's like that y'all "Now let me take a trip down memory lane" "Comin' outta Queensbridge" "Now let me take a trip down memory lane" "Comin' outta Queensbridge" "Now let me take a trip down memory lane" "Comin' outta Queensbridge" "Now let me take a trip down memory lane" "Comin' outta Queensbridge" One for the money Two for pussy and foreign cars Three for Alize niggas deceased or behind bars I rap divine Gods check the prognosis, is it real, or showbiz? My window faces shootouts, drug overdoses Live amongst no roses, only the drama, for real A nickel-plate is my fate, my medicine is the ganja Here's my basis, my razor embraces, many faces Your telephone blowin', black stitches or fat shoelaces Peoples are petrol, dramatic automatic fo'-fo' I let blow And back down po-po when I'm vexed so My pen taps the paper then my brain's blank I see dark streets, hustlin' brothers who keep the same rank Pumpin' for somethin', some up-rise, plus some fail Judges hangin' niggas, uncorrect bails, for direct sales My intellect prevails from a hangin' cross with nails I reinforce the frail, with lyrics that's real Word to Christ, a disciple of streets, trifle on beats I decipher prophecies through a mic and say peace. I hung around the older crews while they sling smack to dingbats They spoke of Fat Cat, that nigga's name made bell rings, black Some fiends scream, about Supreme Team, a Jamaica Queens thing Uptown was Alpo, son, heard he was kingpin, yo Fuck 'rap is real', watch the herbs stand still Never talkin' to snakes cause the words of man kill True in the game, as long as blood is blue in my veins I pour my Heineken brew to my deceased crew on memory lane "Now let me take a trip down memory lane" "Comin' outta Queensbridge" "Now let me take a trip down memory lane" "Comin' outta Queensbridge" "Now let me take a trip down memory lane" "Comin' outta Queensbridge" "Now let me take a trip down memory lane" "Comin' outta Queensbridge" The most dangerous MC is, me number won, and you know where me from