[Intro]

You know it's Queens all day!

Shout out to the Tribe!

Q-Tip, Jarobi!

Busta Rhymes, Ali Shaheed Muhammad!

Rest in peace to Phife Dawg, Linden Boulevard

You know what it is! Litro, what up?

Let's go!

[Verse]

Yo, no slightin' to these younger rappers

But I'm the worst nightmare for a mumble rapper

Cuz every time I rap, it makes their head spin

That's why I catch more bags than overhead bands

That when the drought ends, then I'm Ieavin' New York

And you can find me on a leisure resort

Cuz my features got me featured on The Bleacher Report

Cuz the scene that I discovered was the key to the sport

So I treat competition like a no-look pass

Cuz you ain't gettin' no looks, so I pass in the past

I kept a pistol in my parka

But lately I been thinkin' 'bout the future like Larsa

A microphone monster, so respect the drugs

And anyhow your bush is whacker than Luke and Butch

The win gon' never look like Luke and Laura

Cuz a gorilla pimpin' out boots to Dora

A tanned down arena's how I'll kill DeLaura

And that's another feather in my cap, a fedora

So why you reward her with gifts and heavy bags

I've been in the gym getting it in on that heavy bag

Safe to say, until the ock is gone

Then life is just a fight inside the Octagon

And I been rockin' strong since black rock

We're all going off like a bomb, indeed, that's the cause

[Interlude]

You know it's Queens all day

Check it

Ohh!

[Verse 2]

I might not have got rich but Rich in the Creep Squad

But now we run the game to the point I'm starting to breathe hard

Cuz these dogs are all bark and no bite

Get they heart broke for takin' home a strobe light

I need a Coors Light to toast with my core fans

And a promo code to order more Vans

I'm the man like Seth Rollins

Who only got more checks once he left pieless

Coming once, yes, you better do the knowledge

Or, get the demo, take the mileage

Or get a balance on your college tour

'Bout a connoisseur who's kind of sore

That I ain't get the proper kind of shine before

So, all hail or all hell will break loose

Over these great beats that came from the great duke

Shoot, after this loop, I need a shooter bad

'Bout to book the scene, put up the line no one look to have

Ha, cuz all I make is classes

Give hold the classic

Known to stretch a dollar like Mr. Fantastic

Known to stretch a dollar like it's made out of elastic

Another ghetto bastard

Yeah, shout out to Trigger Treach

I know a bunch of Internets that deserve the trigger next

See I'm the bigger threat to the powers that be

If you ever been in debt, you know to take to that leave

So as soon as the leaves abound the fall and autumn

I look down to plead against any foe who afford 'em

Every code they taught 'em stuck with me, Velcro

Went from railroad to Melrose

Silver shells toll to the bell toll

This is Queens, nigga, let's go!

[Interlude]

I'm not finished yet

Nah, nah, I'm not finished yet

Uh-uh, I'm not finished yet

Let's go!

Yo!

[Verse 3]

I'm a backpack rapper so backtrack the statements

All you trap rappers should look on in amazement

It took hearts, the basement, and a crackhead landlord

The fool who got the props like fuck y'all would've danced for

I'm who they go ham for like the cast of Hamilton

You paying for the box just like shipping and handling

And gambling at the wrong poker table

I'll keep it sterile in this bitch like a horse stable

Remain faithful to all these worried marriages

It's worth working out because I've seen worse marriages

Become horse and carriages, as long as you a strategist

Whose flow is known to decompose all these savages

Man, listen, I was a savage at 21 like 21 Savage

I guess I had to make a lane like 8-track pants

Playin' in the streets tryin' to keep an A average

But the latter of the two of 'em made my momma panic

Because the morgue had more and more bodies

I'm just a soul inside of a mortal body

So I hope you get the picture and the photocopy

I've been with the shits like a port-a-potty

So once I've got Ferraris and Lambos

You know them automatics spilled out with ammo

You get the clips to your head like some lawn's cover

Trust me, I ain't the one you want to cross, brother

I've seen kids get killed for talking out across color

I've suffered the same fate as Trill Sammy

Trust me, I know how it feels, family

I know how it feels when you've got the same will as Uncle Phil's family

For real, that's why I've got the balanced bars

Yep, yep, and I can move an onion like a salad bar

With y'all watching my bread like I'm about to count a car

As we count it off

One for the top shots and stolen cars

And the girls at the top shop with stolen cars

Givin' top in the drop top with no regard

While we scream from a drop top the world is ours

So to see you play and hatin' this is so bizarre

'Cause had you would've welcomed us with open arms

You would've known the heat was coming like a smoke alarm

But I've been typecast like a broken arm

But that ain't mean I'ma be broke for long

Cuz despite all the BS and broken bonds

The Tribe came back strong and that's word to bond

[Outro]

Queens all day! Holler at somebody real!