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"Q.B.G." lyrics by FUNKMASTER FLEX & BIG KAP
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"Q.B.G."
[feat. Big Kap, Kool G. Rap, Prodigy]


[Funkmaster Flex]
PRODIGY, KOOL G RAP!

[Prodigy]
Nigga, I got cash nigga
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, nigga we'll fuck you up
What be the drill, we the Queens gangstas
Infamous mobstas, you a wanksta

See it's like, twenty-inch wheels
We pull off lots wit the newest hot shit, we so ill
Spend hundreds on our meals
Thousands on our outfits, half a mil on the houses
For thrills, fuck women in they high heels
Till they max out and pass out from how it feels
My niggas 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 killed
And that's how it is, there's nothin you can do about it
Dead men tell no tales
And if you think a nigga gon' squeal, put up his bail
And twist that nigga 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 passion
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 nigga, 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, nigga we rep shit
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 Bangcock
Make the pain stop
Aim cock, 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]

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