[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, n***a, 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!