Queens - Intellectual

[Intro: Noreaga]

Outlaw, Outlaw

Uhh-uhh – yo, give me some of that haze, man, that purple haze

I don't wanna smoke that fucking haze wit' this wood no more

Hydro... shit got my hydro tasting like smydro

I'ma smoke a straight haze right now (Straight haze)

'Pone, roll up there, ya heard me?

Yo, slime, roll up there, ya heard me? Okay, slime

It's like this, yo...

[Verse 1: Noreaga]

Yo, yo, "Blood Money" is the anthem, it's never a myth

I smoke weed and I get drunk, and ride with gifts

If I don't roll, then my nigga Baby, he just twist

He rolls Phillies and he busts the big the four-fifth

See shit change, because I normally came

On the R train, now me and 5 in the Range

We used to twist Phillies and fuck hoes, switch cars and trade guns

Them Queens niggas, then we landed in the millions

Iraq and the Bridge, the only difference is the buildings

The same crime rates and the same damn killings

A slice of pizza, and quarter water of juice

But now I'm Carhartt, and bullet-proof is under my goose

And go to hell to that nigga that snitched on Deuce

The curly-haired 'fro, I cut my hair, but my beard grow

Yo, where my beers go? Send them right here, yo

Yo, party's over, tell the rest of the crew

Stash the drugs, the guns go to section two

See me, all my life, yo, I had to sell drugs

While you grew up with straight nerds, I grew up with thugs

[Chorus: Complexions]

Through the test of time, I strive to get my shine

Upon them lives, slanging rocks, 'cause the world is mine

I look out for you, and you look out for me

And we hold it down, you just wait and see

Platinum chains and Carti' frames and jewels

Now these broke niggas start to act a fool

Don't you know Thugged Out straight eat ya food

We keep guns on our sides, you know how dunn thugs do

'Cause I'll be there with my thugs

I'll be right here, waiting on you

[Verse 2: Capone]

For my niggas who bust pies

The customized 5's

To the vials, to the railroaded trials, I cuss cops

Enough shots and any generation

I spit dead, a plot in the making

I ride for every thug in the basement

My soul is cuffed to the corner, every gate, every card table

Every 'Welcome to the hood' sign

Batting good times

It's on, over the projects, a dark cloud, one-sided

'Til death, bitches burning in gossip

It's my turn to deposit

The real, the logic, no college

Just dollars and criminal knowledge

Me and my co-D's pass row D's

I flash mo' wheat, than cash Cody

Keep the MAC on me

When you stack, niggas act phony

Shit in the ghetto, I spread love and shed blood

Never swear to a dead thug

My name should be brought up in fame, never said in vain

Spread like a letter chain, in criminal slang