Ninety-five, keep it live

Yeah to make papers, knahmsayin?

Motherfuckin Kool G. Rap and B1

and my motherfuckin man Grimm

Just comin with somethin to keep the brainstem



..



[B1]

It's Big 1 son, Jamaica Queens is the turf

And I'ma exploit, heaven and earth, for what it's worth

It's the MC extrordinaire, the jewels glare

The God is rare, I'm takin bitches back to my lair

I want mines and yours, strippin niggaz to they drawers

No probable cause, with the chrome double 4's

It's the Queens New Yorker with a bulletproof parka

In eighty-four, it was Calvins and British Walkers

Now I'm sippin Harvey's Bristal Cream with the glock 17

as the sirens race to the scene

Tryin to get dough, like Pablo, today, fuck tomorrow

Seats for carro, as I recline in Monte Carlo

I got the game down to a science, it's the clients

that turn small time hustlers into giants

Three course meal, waitin for my appetizer

Blowin like a geyser, time only makes me wiser

Paraphenalia, and material, makes the crew imperial

I put the fear in you, sippin beer with two

Handlin business properly, form a monopoly

Storefront property, if not, another robbery

I'm puttin forth the effort, murder's the method

The steak is peppered

Son when I let off you meet your Lord and shepherd

Bloody money gets niggaz deaded and wetted

Don't forget it, money's the metal and my hand is magnetic



Chorus: Grimm, B1