What the fucks up? Q.U. nigga

[Chorus]
Yo, they just don't know, they just don't know
We do or die for the dough, whether friend or foe
From Queens to BK to Uptown we flow
Yo, they just don't know, they just don't know

Yo, pins and needles, needles and pins
Peoples and friends
Plain clothes D's on the bench
I figure niggas is with me or either against

I'm speakin' sense to the derilics
Intelligent, get ya'll broken up quick if ya delicate
Smokin' better shit than the average do
I travel to Two Fifth and Madison Avenue

That will do, I'm gettin' high with a rat or two
So what's next?
If she don't have an attitude? rough sex
I seen some sects throw it up, some get robbed

They show love just to those on their side
Some rely on their instincts
Young and deadly delinquents
It goes beyond me, so what's it gon' be?

Why would niggas call it drama if it don't involve heat?
That nigga Robby and Dotty too
Before they starve me I'd rather wild out and be in ICU.

[Chorus: x2]

All these novice niggas
Nowadays I don't even notice niggas
Why Black? too many bogus niggas
I represent that clique that you wit' since you was younger

The one with gun wounds in our armor
Since rich days my shit sprays, ya'll gon' pay
Fuck bein' nice for too long I kept my niggas at Bay
Now I'm right up on that ass

Red light up on that ass
Murder, then I'm'a catch a flight up on that ass
No more playin', ya'll know the routine, the resume
Catch atleast two to your spleen, but hey

The other Ten's for your other Mens
Shit I'm'a go hard, I'm thinkin' kill ya'll and cop another Benz
My shit tight like mouths on BK kids
The gutter still lives in BR won't nothin' give

And of course it the one that talks shit
The one that chalks shit then comes back around the way and reinforce shit
Y'all niggas lost it and can't face up
So we bought mad C4 to blow the place up

Fuckin' with Black you fuckin' with cake
Fuckin' with Madd you fuckin' with Nate
Either way it's all great.

[Chorus: x2]

I write verse after verse until I perfect it
I'm sick with it kid, infected
Come inside the paint and get your shit rejected
Feelin' just a little mad and disrespected

Bring your best 16's, 24's, 32's
All soloists, duo's and three man crews
It's simple math, me minus you
T minus two, one, blast off

Hit the L twice then pass off
Snatch your bitch then jacked your whip and dashed off
You got too comfortable kid, you asked for it
You just like your bitch, in your jeep, shoes off, feet all up on your

Dash board
You're jackin' off, slackin' off
My Four-Four bust and you backin' off
I told you Man

Game on the line, I'm the go-to Man
Shit never changed, don't let me hold two grand
Don't make this ugly
I need cash, I don't care if you love me

Took the wrong road maybe 'cause Moms didn't hug me
And Pops bounced
Found out dough is what counts
It's all about the Benjamins baby in large amounts

When it comes to bricks I flip like acrobats
When it comes to hits I spit like Platinum plaques
Crazy cat, no need to ask who's track is that
'Cause y'all are real life haters, I just act like that.

[Chorus: x4]

Writer : ANGELETTIE, DERIC MICHEAL/ROSS, ROBERT
Copyright : Lyrics © EMI Music Publishing, Universal Music Publishing Group