Uhh.. (yeah, yeah, yeah)
 Q.B. since 1933 (know dat)
 To nine-six (nine-six motherfucker)
 Check the shit

 [Havoc]
 Nine-six
 Escobar 600

 [Nas]
 Check the shit
 My mindset, son got wet, I'm vexed really
 They snatched off his Rolex, smacked his bitch silly
 Why niggaz actin illy word to Will he bout to feel it
 I feel it, he shoulda been dealt wit it
 Them niggaz sour, they put to much flour in they coke
 And got the nerve to wonder WHY THEY BROKE
 While we was gleamin, niggaz was scheamin
 Seen the ill Beamers beamin
 Triple-beam and doublin cream, had em feenin
 to get they fingers on the dosa, I called Sosa
 Sosa, these niggaz hit the God, bring the toaster
 Meet me in the 'Bridge I'm bout to go loca
 Left my 'rat beggin me to stay and stroke her
 He came through with two fly bitches, Venus and Vicious
 wit two macs inside the Volvo, what up God, I'm still sober
 I need some Henn' to bend me over
 My nigga Hav got a soldier
 It's gettin down it's goin down kid (I got this, I got this)
 I heard he might not live, I'm holdin back tears
 Told these broads, to put it in gear
 with two females that don't smile diggin they style yo
 Whattup son, these niggaz done started somethin wild
 You know the clique well, Ramel with the gold in his grill
 Tried to get a name holdin the steel, I paid attention to the females
 Maintain bitches when it get real
 Sos' pulled me close and told me the deal
 He said both hoes'll peel, spray shots and reload
 and still handle the wheel, point em out smoke a Phil' then chill
 I layed back Escobar status, knowin The Firm got it cornered
 We on it, shit we was born wit

 Chorus: Havoc

 Spark the lye, Q.B.C. yo it's do or die
 In this, business and trifeness
 I finesse this, for R.D., we chef shit
 Perfect shit, Albert Einstein minds connect wit
 dangerous sons, step back let the tech lift
 Lift you up, bless you wit a shorty then we set you up
 Spark the lye, Q.B.C. yo it's do or die
 In this, business and trifeness
 We finesse this, for R.D., we chef shit
 Perfect shit, Albert Einstein minds connect wit
 dangerous sons, step back let the tech lift
 Lift you up, bless you wit a shorty then we set you up

 [Nas]
 Hold it right there pull over
 That nigga right there inside the Rover
 I knew he'd be right here, I told ya
 Let's get him now, look at him smile, ice Bulova
 Polo pullover, big links and rockin boulders
 He's stuntin, after he left my man like that
 without a fair chance to fight back, BUT I'LL BE RIGHT BACK
 He never seen us, Sos' gave the mac to Venus
 and Vicious, lookin delicious, handle yo' bidness
 and step to him, shake yo' ass try to screw him
 Do what ya gotta do to get to him
 A tight parasuco, with young faces
 can turn niggaz Buttafuco, of all ages, they was amused
 by the way they walked, way they talked
 Only if they knew these girls'd spray New York
 if they had to, heard him ask Venus, "Could I have you?"
 He jumped out a Jeep, heard her tell him, "Don't grab Boo"
 They started chattin, was only bout a minute, flat when
 they jumped in the back of the Jeep laughin
 We followed them pollyin, he thought the hoes were Somalian
 Probably wanted to hit the Holiday Inn
 I grabbed the phone and called the Mobb and them
 We layed low about a hour or so, these bitches movin too slow
 We both holdin, what if them wild hoes started foldin?
 Sosa, said say no more, we started rollin
 Before we got in they must have shot him, security wildin
 There the girls go, hurry up we out in
 the 940, me Sosa and two shorties
 The punk niggaz got murdered in the orgy

 Chorus 1/2

 [unknown lady - not credited]
 Q.B.C.
 QueensBridge motherfucker
 Ropin niggaz up
 Cause our click is thick
 Another day another dollar
 More money, more murder
 Fuck this shit, Q.B. up in the house