| Nigga, I got cash nigga
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| I had tooken care of real quick
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| I ain’t wettin that
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| Yo what’s the deal, you a thug or what
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| We cut you up, nigga we’ll fuck you up
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| What be the drill, we the Queens gangstas
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| Infamous mobstas, you a wanksta
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| See it’s like, twenty-inch wheels
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| We pull off lots wit the newest hot shit, we so ill
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| Spend hundreds on our meals
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| Thousands on our outfits, half a mil on the houses
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| For thrills, fuck women in they high heels
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| Till they max out and pass out from how it feels
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| My niggas win their appeals (why?)
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| Cuz high-paid lawyers get broke wit big bills
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| Stash boxes conceal the big mills
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| So if we got problems, somebody get killed
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| And that’s how it is, there’s nothin you can do about it
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| Dead men tell no tales
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| And if you think a nigga gon' squeal, put up his bail
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| And twist that nigga when he touch down, huh
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| For real, I don’t need no sh-ells
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| I got guns, and M-6 peel, y’all best chill
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| I’m grown from blastin
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| You cartoon goons wit no room for ration
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| Flippin the soonest fashion
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| Booms in the room is flashin
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| Sip to your tune wit a passion
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| Zoom in a action, doom wit a Mac 10
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| Neighbors tune into the booms when I clap at their men
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| But I ain’t goin back to the penn
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| You witness me nigga, I’m clappin again
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| Knock your brain right on your wrap fringe, lappin
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| Make em crawl out the back of the Benz like Jacklyn
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| FBI we bafflin
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| Grab the straps get the gaffling
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| BGF Click, nigga we rep shit
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| Respect it, before your whole squad get deflected
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| My tec spit, leave you runnin wit chest hits, red drips
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| Fallin like rain drops, when them things pop
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| We bang Glocks like we coming from Bangcock
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| Make the pain stop
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| Aim cock, flame at your top till your frame drop
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| You and your name in the lot, flat on the strange block |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song QBG , by - Funk Flex. Song from the album The Tunnel, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп