Ninety-five, keep it live Yeah to make papers, knahmsayin? Motherfuckin Kool G. Rap and B1 and my motherfuckin man Grimm Just comin with somethin to keep the brainstem
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[B1] It's Big 1 son, Jamaica Queens is the turf And I'ma exploit, heaven and earth, for what it's worth It's the MC extrordinaire, the jewels glare The God is rare, I'm takin bitches back to my lair I want mines and yours, strippin niggaz to they drawers No probable cause, with the chrome double 4's It's the Queens New Yorker with a bulletproof parka In eighty-four, it was Calvins and British Walkers Now I'm sippin Harvey's Bristal Cream with the glock 17 as the sirens race to the scene Tryin to get dough, like Pablo, today, fuck tomorrow Seats for carro, as I recline in Monte Carlo I got the game down to a science, it's the clients that turn small time hustlers into giants Three course meal, waitin for my appetizer Blowin like a geyser, time only makes me wiser Paraphenalia, and material, makes the crew imperial I put the fear in you, sippin beer with two Handlin business properly, form a monopoly Storefront property, if not, another robbery I'm puttin forth the effort, murder's the method The steak is peppered Son when I let off you meet your Lord and shepherd Bloody money gets niggaz deaded and wetted Don't forget it, money's the metal and my hand is magnetic
