Q.U. Cartilage - Meyhem Lauren, Buckwild, P.F. Cuttin

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