Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song A Queens Story, artist - Nas. Date of issue: 31.12.2011
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
A Queens Story |
| Rest in peace to Black Just |
| Riding through Jamaica, Queens in his black truck |
| Timbs was 40 below, waves to the side of his dome |
| Definition of good nigga, yo |
| Gangsters don’t die, niggas only become immortal |
| Angels don’t only fly, they walk right before you |
| In front of you, it’s foul what this money could do |
| Cash corrupts the loyal |
| I hung with E-Money, too, the fucking truth |
| Fucking with Stretch from Live Squad |
| I could’ve died the same night that Stretch died |
| I just got out of his ride |
| He dropped me off and drove to Springfield |
| November thirtieth, another Queens king killed |
| It fucked me up, y’all |
| I was just trying to make it with Steve Stoute |
| The legal way, drug-free route |
| Back in the days, they was sleeping on us |
| Brooklyn keep on taking it, Manhattan keep on making it |
| Trying to leave Queens out |
| But we was pulling them beams out, them M3's out |
| Pumping bringing them D’s out |
| Rastas selling chocolate weed inside of a weed house |
| Colosseum downstairs, gold teeth mouth |
| Astoria warriors, 8th Street, twin buildings |
| Vernon, can’t even count the Livingston children |
| Justice in Ravenswood, nice neighborhood |
| Caught sleeping out there, be a wrap, though |
| Bridge niggas be up in Petey’s ten racks, yo |
| A simple bet on a serious cash flow |
| Get money, Manolo, welcome home, Castro |
| Queens-bridge unified all I ask for |
| Let’s do it for D. U, say what up to Snatch, yo |
| I just salute real niggas when I pass through |
| Niggas is very hungry for that bank robbery |
| Bury money, trying to get to a Benz from a Hyundai |
| The Queens Courthouse right next to the cemetery |
| Niggas' rap sheets look like obituaries |
| You be starving in Kew Gardens |
| Bolognas and milk from a small carton |
| You could still feel chills from the team |
| On 118, my nigga Ben fly by like it’s a dream |
| His face on his Shirt Kings |
| Laced in a pinky ring, in his black Benz murking |
| Back when Black Rock &Ron was on the map |
| Cheeba in yellow sacks, dope sold in laundromats |
| Thugs bark, getting &ed from weed |
| Over the heart of ch&ions, see |
| Ever since back then, a nigga been about the dough |
| (You all know how the story go) |
| Any other real niggas in the world besides us, I ask? |
| Probably is, but odds are we’ll never cross paths |
| Put your glass high if you made it out the stash spot |
| And here to tell a story and celebrate the glory |
| Drinks in the air for my niggas not here |
| This how we do, I see you D. U |
| Queens to the heavens, salute the hood legends |
| Crack the Patron, Hennessy, and Glenlivets |
| Ch&agne bottles drowning out the sorrows |
| Hope the memories’ll get us through tomorrow |
| I’m a real O. G cause back in nine-three |
| Niggas couldn’t fuck with me, sipping 'gnac since I was little |
| Laid back in a rental |
| Mouth shining, Eddie’s gold caps all up in the dental |
| Nigga getting money now, but you know I’m still mental, but not simple |
| Put your glass high if you made it out the stash spot |
| And here to tell your story and celebrate the glory |
| Drinks in the air for my niggas not here |
| This for the fallen soldiers |
| Hold it down, I told ya |
| Pop another bottle and keep the smoke rolling |
| Watch the con realest channel his mom’s spirit |
| Goosebumps cover me, mother’s here, I could feel her |
| Blood of Christ covers me, our savior and healer |
| Drug prices up or down, I know a few dealers |
| And some accident murderers, they act like they killed on purpose |
| Liars brag they put work in |
| You ain’t mean to murk him, your gun’s a virgin |
| Better stay on point, if not, it’s curtains |
| Bebo Posse reincarnated through me, probably |
| If music money didn’t stop me |
| I never claimed to be the toughest |
| Though I’m to blame for a few faces reconstructed |
| It’s the game that we was stuck with |
| Now I’m the only black in the club with rich Yuppie kids |
| Sad thing, this is the top, but where the hustlers went? |
| No familiar faces around, ain’t gotta grab the musket |
| It’s all safe and sound, ch&agne by the bucket |
| Where them niggas I shouted out on my first shit? |
| Bo cooking blow, fucking slay that, where Turkey went? |
| Old videos show niggas that was murdered since |
| Another reason to get further bent |
| Put your glass high if you made it out the stash spot |
| And here to tell your story and celebrate the glory |
| Drinks in the air for my niggas not here |
| This for the fallen soldiers |
| Hold it down, I told ya |
| Pop another bottle and keep the smoke rolling |