Kids From Queens

Lyrics

[Verse 1: Remy Banks] Right ear still ringing, yes niggas is still hatin' Always wishing me the best but they don't wanna see me make it Fake love, I don't condone it so I brush 'em to the side Like I'm balding with no Rogaine, fans snortin' my lyrics Like they doing lines of cocaine, get they hearts pumpin' faster Reading every line like a novel, next chapter And my legacy, catch me at a party smoking Just a sip of Henessey, of course I'm repping Queens And that's from now until infinity, remember that Like a safe code, a vivid memory of when you used to sell o's Building character to stable, when the time comes I'll never fold, me and my lady just counting bank rolls Got a runway Model rolling up the Cali- smoke Sparking and put it on to the realest shit I ever wrote And there you have it, the shit so majestic Flow's so wild, it could never be called domestic [Hook] 2x Now why they hatin' on these Kids from Queens? Huh? Because we killin' 'em, goddamn we killin' em [Verse 2: Lansky Jones] I'm lyrically a knockout, like never before Like a glitch in Xbox, punch my hands through the wall I'm Box rap act's fantastic gift, always on point Like cactuses, write a 16 run the track In some 90's AirMax's, place 'em by the door I got that army of shoebox money under mattresses Anything I gotta do, I'mma do, graduate top of my classes This an uphill battle, no pacifist, word I'mma loose I go to work like a father, it bothers you, no clue Why it do, with everything I've earned I've had a lot to prove Haters I've burned, earn homie, wait for your turn I play these niggas like board games in commer's Counting All Star niggas Converse like sneakers Yo they boxed in, never seen the bloc, dead stalk Common as a G.R., I got no words I be like all courts, I think they better go soul search [Hook] 2x [Verse 3: Nasty Nigel] I swear to god with all my might I drink a case of 40's, go to your crib, and piss on site Everybody wants a nigga with malice to plot against 'em You prolly bring a wish on you, wishing for Armageddon Middle fingers for fuckers who want it for performing Remy yellin' "hit 'em guys," the feds swarming Dislike button on YouTube, I take a shit Inside of your food too, go vegetate like Fruit You Corona bread, G.O.D., I wee wee Dimes spent on A.C.T., love RV Black and red leather attire, we be the wolf pack We hear that wolf quack race of a father, chico I'm with the black Puerto Ricans, barrio you creepin' With niggas on the flip season I can't fuck with your kind, breathing Sock you in the mouth, try sneezing [Hook 2x]