Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Queens, artist - Pharoahe Monch. Album song Internal Affairs, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 17.10.2019
Record label: Trescadecaphobia
Song language: English
Queens |
There’s a place I know where the bitches go Where they rob you for your dough and shit on the low |
in Southside. |
Queens, Queens |
Where if you say The Ave. |
People automatically know the path |
You don’t have to do the math |
in Southside. |
Queens, Queens |
I knew this nigga named Donovan |
Astonishin the way he used to handle the pill God (word?) |
Let me speak about the way he used to dribble off his knees |
and in the middle at the same time guzzlin a beer |
like a puzzle or a riddle — discoverin his path to the hoop |
Scoop, shot, tipped up the backboard OOPS |
Son got hops, never knew he woulda grew it Cool nigga, when it came to school he blew it A scholar in acute niggarisms and metropolitans |
Get taller and yo Donovan hey come around the block |
Youngest of three sons, fuckin with coupons and refunds |
food stamps, and still he was a champ |
Time to get loot for boots and kicks now |
Fuck hoops gotta impress the chicks now |
His momma said, Donovan why are you |
on the corner of Linden and Guy R. Brewer |
He said, Momma listen close I’ma tell you one time |
You’re killin my high, plus I got a nine |
All I be doin is puttin in work |
so you can get a brand new dress for church |
I know the Devil lurks outside, man it’s cold |
But I don’t wanna get paid slow, and grow old |
like poppa — plus I’m on parole I gotta |
get paid off the streets, to make ends meet |
With the back of her hand, she smacked him in the face |
Walked out of the crib-piece, pissed with no taste |
That night, rockin Nikes, eatin Mike’n’Ikes |
Slapboxin with a dyke on a bike too small |
Thinkin, This time, next year, mom’ll be able to. |
ohhh! |
Shit from across the streets, niggaz approach — slow |
Well get the metal out, too late, the guns flash |
In the melee they wet him like Reggae Sunsplash |
Sun dashed with the quickness, back into the ride |
with a smile on his face, the picture of pride |
Blood comin from his mouth, now I’m at his side |
Kneelin over Donovan’s body before he died |
Eyes — flutterin up and down in his head |
And with his last breath this is what he said |
He said, Whyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy, whyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy? |
Then I closed his eyes |
There’s a place I know where the people go Where you can cash dough and chill on the low |
in Southside. |
Queens, Queens |
Where if you say The Ave. |
People automatically know the path |
You don’t have to do the math |
in Southside. |
Queens, Queens |
And if you got a glock, you could bust shots |
like ??, when the block be hot |
in. what we talkin bout. |
Queens, Queens |
Uhh, c’mon uhh |
C’mon. |
uhh uhh |
I know where people go. |
Where you can cash dough and chill on the low. |