Q.U. Cartilage

Danny’s house of pizza fuels my rhymes
Coliseum niggas popping tools for shines
This for left rack, where niggas post up by king Rogers
Southside niggas, up top it’s been fathers
Queens New York, no talk, let the TEC blow
Shoutout to my people probably posted up on metro
Made a quarter mil, a rich man held on the low
A lot of niggas never knew that I was making it snow, uh
Corona to Woodside, we hood tied
System on, down Rockaway, pushing a good ride
Playing old 50 shit, ghetto Quran
In the desert moving deadly cause the metal is on
It’s still iced down medallions
Flush em fam, fucking with ten on Rikers Island
Take a trip to Sunnyside, make the money rise
Queens niggas sticking dicks up in your honey’s thighs
There’s no escape from the mayhem
I’m living now, tryna make it to the AM
motion, XXL, the four fifth
I keep a black Smith and Wesson in my polo jacket
Summertime, play in the strip, maybe
Jackson heights, break down and redesign yay
My mind, stray thoughts, confused by Queens' corners
In the hand, fucking with grams, with Ds on us
Keep it low key, rock a low tee, rep officially
Left this boulevard, peace god, I pull your card
Perfection’s infinity, rep like it was telling me
Get baptized by Hennessey, then catch flights to Kennedy
Police harass you, tell you freeze like a statue
A deadly hassle, I’m over by the veggie castle
Some wheat grass, lemon splashed with a dash of ginger
Hoodie on poof then I’m gone just like a ninja
In the fog or the mist, keep my timepiece swiss
Bag a dime piece swift, real niggas shine like this
Blasting Billy Holliday out the beige coupe
Came a long way from the days when we was strange fruit