Queens Get The Money

Eh yo

Queens get the money

Niggas still screaming

Paper chasing

Where presidential candidates is planning wars with other nations

Over steak with Masons

Pregnant teens give birth to intelligent gangsters

Their daddy's faceless

Play this, by your stomach

Let my words massage it and rub it

I'll be his daddy if there's nobody there to love it

Tell him his name's Nasir

Tell him how he got here

Mama was just having fun with someone above her years

Niggas is still hating

Talking that Nas done fell off with rhyming

He'd rather floss with diamonds

They pray "please God let him spit that Uzi in the army linen

That shorty doo-wop rolling oo-wop in the park reclining"

Take 27 emcee's put them in a line and they're out of alignment

my assignment since he said retirement

hiding behind 8 Mile and The Chronic

Gets rich but dies rhyming

This is hot science

Now add 23 more from Queens to B-more

I've over their heads

Like a bulimic on a seesaw

Now that's 50 porch monkeys ate up at the same time

Nasty Nasdaq

Y'all going to bow holmes, it's Dow Jones

.80 cal chrome

Needed time alone to zone

The mack left his iPhone and his 9 at home

My queen used the milkshake to bring y'all to my slaughter houses

I do this for the group home kids in boarding houses

This is that nigga shit that's on the album

For the niggas inside the chalk line in 40 houses

Bring back Arsenio

Hip-hop was aborted

So Nas breathes life, back into the embryo

Let us make man in our image

Spit it, I'm Huey P in Louis V throwing Molotov for Emmit

You aint as hot as I is

All of these fake prophets are not messiahs

You don't know how high the sky is

The square milage of Earth, or what pi is

I'm the shaky hand that touched Geogre Foreman in Zaire

The same hand that punched down devils that brought down the towers