Ayyo, Queens get the money, niggas still screaming paper chase.
But presidential candidates is planning wars with other nations, over state with Masons.
Pregnant teens give birth to intelligent gangsters, they daddy's faceless.
Play this by your stomach, let my words massage it and rub it.
I be his daddy if no one is there to love it.
Tell him his name Nasir, tell him how he got here.
Mama was just having fun with someone above her years.
Niggas is still hating.
Talking that Nas done fell off with rhyming, he rather floss with diamonds.
They pray, "Pleased God, let him spit that oozie in the army lining. "
That shorty do-op rolling ooh-ops in the park reclining.
Take 27 emcee's, put them in a line and they out of alignment.
Nas - Queens Get The Money Lyrics
Nas - Queens Get The Money Lyrics
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Ayyo, Queens get the money, niggas still screaming paper chase.
But presidential candidates is planning wars with other nations, over state with Masons.
Pregnant teens give birth to intelligent gangsters, they daddy's faceless.
Play this by your stomach, let my words massage it and rub it.
I be his daddy if no one is there to love it.
Tell him his name Nasir, tell him how he got here.
Mama was just having fun with someone above her years.
Niggas is still hating.
Talking that Nas done fell off with rhyming, he rather floss with diamonds.
They pray, "Pleased God, let him spit that oozie in the army lining. "
That shorty do-op rolling ooh-ops in the park reclining.
Take 27 emcee's, put them in a line and they out of alignment.
But presidential candidates is planning wars with other nations, over state with Masons.
Pregnant teens give birth to intelligent gangsters, they daddy's faceless.
Play this by your stomach, let my words massage it and rub it.
I be his daddy if no one is there to love it.
Tell him his name Nasir, tell him how he got here.
Mama was just having fun with someone above her years.
Niggas is still hating.
Talking that Nas done fell off with rhyming, he rather floss with diamonds.
They pray, "Pleased God, let him spit that oozie in the army lining. "
That shorty do-op rolling ooh-ops in the park reclining.
Take 27 emcee's, put them in a line and they out of alignment.
Writer: JOHN JAMES POWELL, NASIR JONES
Copyright: Lyrics © Warner/Chappell Music, Inc., Universal Music Publishing Group
Copyright: Lyrics © Warner/Chappell Music, Inc., Universal Music Publishing Group