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Yeah, nigga, yeah, south suicide Queens That's right, Q U, nigga, yea yea Shit like that, know what Im sayin', put these drinks up Ya heard? Let's do this right, what? Yo Hold up, this is for my thugs on the block For my one stop niggaz that be huggin' the spot Sittin' on crates, gettin' loaded, get that cake Dodgin' drinks, spit and hafta cover they face Kick some tye, big truck with tricks inside In too deep, tryna sell bricks from the side See no games, with real niggaz from other hoods Car titles get lost, some niggaz get jooked But God forgive me if a nigga cross the fam Holdin' the heat, the streets'll make me force ya hand From my wild crew, sets the new guns off the roof To them slick dudes, hot and they workin' the phone booth 'Cuz Lord, knows, I'm gonna reload and bust back Incredible gats, indicted for a federal rap They ain't duck low enough, shots shredded they hat Murdered and gone, nigga, it's a medical fact Hold up, this is for my gangsta team And my dime little mamis rockin' timbs and jeans When it's on, know, we ain't afraid to clap them things In the club, gettin' bent, goin' crazy Hold up, this is for my gangsta team And my dime little mamis rockin' timbs and jeans When it's on, know, we ain't afraid to clap them things In the club, gettin' bent, goin' crazy Hold up, this is for my chicks in the spot All my bus stop bitches that be pushin' them drops Playin' the gate, get it ma, get those papes Hustle that face, seven G's below ya waist Project chick, dippin' whips, cruisin' the strip Gettin' money for tuition, go to school and she strip Kill in the club, when niggaz dicks get hard Murda mami, set you up and niggaz bricks get robbed Help her soul if a chick try to set my team I'm tying her up, rep till the death of Queens All my staircase niggaz keep flippin' the jun's All my outta state niggaz keep gettin them ones Guns in the air, hit you with invisible glocks That mean you never see it comin' nigga, fifty two shots I'm takin' ya block nigga, if you like it or not You either roll or get rushed, I guess not Hold up, this is for my gangsta team And my dime little mamis rockin' timbs and jeans When it's on, know, we ain't afraid to clap them things In the club, gettin' bent, goin' crazy Hold up, this is for my gangsta team And my dime little mamis rockin' timbs and jeans When it's on, know, we ain't afraid to clap them things In the club, gettin' bent, goin' crazy Sticky fingaz, the nigga that be stickin' them spots For all my gun-cock niggards, that be bustin' off shots Lay in the straight, black mask raidin' ya gate Show me ya safe before I put two in ya face Dirt on my kicks, hoodies all lookin' for whips Catch a rat nigga, leave his Bentley sittin' on bricks Bloody ice-pick fights in the yard Ten times outta ten, step to me and ya life get scarred Shoot outs in broad daylight, bustin' at feds Dirty cops with a ki of coke, bring 'em out dead For my jail niggaz, stashin' bangers deep in they cots For my grimy niggaz, hidin' under cars from cops Empty the glock, hitchu with disposable gats Bust you, wipe it off, throw it away, it's a rap What nigga? I see you back in the hood scrap Turn ya Benz to a coffin nigga, straight like that Hold up, this is for my gangsta team And my dime little mamis rockin' timbs and jeans When it's on, know, we ain't afraid to clap them things In the club, gettin' bent, goin' crazy Hold up, this is for my gangsta team And my dime little mamis rockin' timbs and jeans When it's on, know, we ain't afraid to clap them things In the club, gettin' bent, goin' crazy Hold up South suicide Queens, enjoy South suicide Queens, enjoy
Writer(s): Kejuan Waliek Muchita, Fredro Starr Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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